[SYSTEM INITIATING]

  The dimly luminous words appeared in front of his eyes again. Even as David looked up at it, a box flickered around them and stuttered. The English was replaced by weird characters that reminded him of the symbol the Herald had insisted he focus on. The framing stuttered wildly before vanishing, then reappeared with a new message.

  [SYSTEM INITIATING] [ERROR: CORRUPTION DETECTED] [REPA... ERROR]

  [REBUILDING...] [REBUILDING...] [...] [REBUILDING...]

  David's stomach dropped. A corrupted system? After everything he'd just survived?

  Was it out of juice? He hadn't done what the Herald had asked; maybe it needed some of the mana that filled his body? With nothing better to do, David tried to push mana toward the orb behind his solar plexus.

  Nothing happened.

  He tried again. And again. After a dozen attempts, all as useless as the last, he stopped to think his way through the problem.

  David was pretty sure that freaking out was the appropriate response to this latest disaster, but he was just too exhausted. He still hadn't recovered from the ordeal with the possessor whose ghost now…

  The ghost. He could feel it there, sullen and bound, circling somewhere in the periphery of his consciousness. Not speaking, not exactly present, but undeniably there. Like a word on the tip of his tongue or a shadow at the edge of his vision. It seemed almost smug in the way it lurked, as if taunting him for messing with forces he didn't understand.

  Still, apply logic. Then it hit him.

  Taking a deep breath and focusing his intent, David spoke while visualizing pushing energy into the ball the sigil had folded itself into. "Initiate. Start. Power up. Rebuild. Work, dammit!"

  That seemed to help. He felt a fresh surge of weakness as the cascade of rebuilding notifications accelerated and he felt gnawing hunger, emptiness, something from his stomach where the ball sat. Out of pure spite, he gave a tug on the link to the ghost, trying to pull mana from it instead of himself.

  To his surprise, that did the trick. The tether shortened abruptly, and the ghost fell into the hungry pit in his chest with an almost satisfying clunk. The ghost's presence shifted from peripheral to integrated; still there but no longer separate. Contained.

  [INTEGRATION COMPLETE] [SYSTEM PROCESSING] [ANOMALOUS MANA STRUCTURE DETECTED] [PROCESSING...] [CALCULATING INITIAL STATUS]

  [STATUS AVAILABLE] [QUEST SYSTEM AVAILABLE] [EXPERIENCE SYSTEM AVAILABLE] [LEVELING INITIATED] [SKILL SYSTEM UNLOCKED] [TITLE SYSTEM ONLINE] [PATRONAGE SYSTEM... ERROR] [PATRONAGE SYSTEM CORRUPTED] [ANOMALY DETECTED] [CALCULATING...] [ANOMALY QUANTIFIED AS MUTATION] [REASSIGNING...]

  [BLOODLINE ASSIGNED: ???]

  David gaped. Being called a mutant and corrupted didn't sound great. And patronage sounded like free stuff, which he couldn't get if it was broken. But a bloodline? That sounded... significant.

  The strange space he'd been trapped in was changing. The darkness turned red—the red seen through closed eyelids when facing the sun. With color came sensation, and what sensation it was.

  Every muscle screamed in protest—stiff, sore, and cold. He'd been lying on concrete for... how long? The realization hit him like ice water as he struggled to open his gummed-up eyes. He reached up, sending shooting cramps through his arms, to rub at his face. His skin felt tight and hot, almost sunburned.

  Groaning, David struggled to sit up. The bus stop bench was beside him. His phone lay next to him, screen dark and lifeless in the morning light.

  Everything looked normal but felt catastrophically wrong. A pulsing sensation emanated from behind his solar plexus, right where the sigil had condensed into that ball of energy. So it hadn't been a hallucination.

  Ding.

  Words appeared in front of him, translucent blue text hanging in the air.

  [CONGRATULATIONS!] [YOU HAVE DEFEATED AN ENEMY BEFORE COMPLETING INITIATION] [EXPERIENCE EARNED] [TITLES EARNED: 2] [WARNING: EXPERIENCE OVERFLOW] [RANDOM ASSIGNMENT OCCURRED] [LEVEL UP: SYSTEM INITIATE]

  Another notification immediately followed:

  [CONGRATULATIONS!] [YOU HAVE ABSORBED SUFFICIENT MANA TO INITIATE THE SYSTEM] [ABSORB MORE MANA AND INTEGRATE IT WITH YOUR PERSONAL SYSTEM TO GAIN FURTHER REWARDS] [TITLE EARNED]

  Then another:

  [CONGRATULATIONS!] [YOU HAVE SURVIVED THE INITIATION OF YOUR WORLD] [TITLE EARNED]

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  David's blood ran cold. It was apparently an achievement just to survive being initiated. How many didn’t?

  A final notification flashed urgently across his vision in angry red text:

  [NEW QUEST: REACH SAFETY] [THE NEWLY INITIATED WORLD IS A DANGEROUS PLACE] [REACH ONE OF THE HERALD'S BEACONS IMMEDIATELY] [REWARD: SAFETY, INFORMATION, AND TRAINING] [BEACONS ARE MARKED BY PILLARS OF LIGHT] [WARNING: THE WORLD IS AWAKENING AND BECOMING MORE DANGEROUS AS MANA SATURATION INCREASES]

  With that ominous message hanging in front of his eyes, David tried to see past it. He attempted to swipe the message away like a phone notification. Nothing. He tried waving his hand through it. Still nothing.

  Finally, having mustered enough spit to speak, he croaked, "Go away, dammit."

  To his surprise, it vanished. Only to be immediately replaced:

  [INTERFACE CUSTOMIZATION AVAILABLE] [CALL UP STATUS TO BEGIN]

  So voice commands worked but gestures didn't. Interesting. Maybe it was tied to intent and will, like everything else in that initiation space. Speaking required conscious thought and intention, while hand-waving could be accidental.

  After several seconds of experimentation—trying "Help," "Exit," "Cancel"—David cleared his throat, shocked by how parched he was.

  "Status."

  An actual window expanded, mostly blocking his view:

  David's analytical mind kicked in. The system didn't even know his name. This wasn't some omniscient force. The numbers suggested experience had overflowed into his System Initiate title, explaining the 1,100. But what did any of it actually do?

  More concerning was that bloodline. ??? He could feel the ghost bound within him, sullen but obedient. What exactly had he turned himself into? This is all your fault he thought at the silent presence snippily.

  "Close Status," he said, relieved when his vision cleared.

  David finally looked around properly. The street where he'd collapsed at the bus stop was completely silent. No cars moving. No people. No lights in windows. Nothing but eerie stillness.

  "Hello?" he called out, his voice cracking. "Is anyone there?"

  His words seemed to die just feet from his mouth, swallowed by the oppressive quiet.

  He stood on shaking legs and checked the nearest parked car. Empty, no surprise there. The house across the street was still and dark. Nothing out of place but curtains closed. Were they always that way? He couldn’t remember.

  His laptop. The thought struck him suddenly. Fumbling with his bag he found it intact, thank god for expensive padding. He pulled it out and powered it on. After a few seconds of whirring, the lock screen appeared.

  David's blood turned to ice.

  According to the laptop, it was 9:17 AM. But the date... the date was wrong. He'd been unconscious for just over two days.

  Two days. Lying on a sidewalk. And nobody had helped him.

  The pieces clicked into place with horrible clarity. His dehydration. The sunburn on his face. The gnawing hunger that was only now fully registering. He'd been lying there for two entire days while the world... what? Ended? Transformed?

  "Oh God. Oh God, OH GOD!"

  David clutched the laptop, spinning around wildly as some desperate part of his brain searched for signs this was all an elaborate prank. But the evidence was undeniable. He'd been unconscious for two days. He'd received a title for surviving the initiation.

  Was everyone else dead?

  He sat heavily on the bus stop bench, hyperventilating. His mind raced in circles. Then, as if responding to his distress, he felt something shift inside him. The ghost. It seemed to pulse with cold amusement at his panic.

  Not alone, came the faintest whisper, though David couldn't tell if it was mockery or comfort.

  Strangely, even mockery from a bound spirit was better than total isolation. His breathing slowed.

  As his panic receded, practical concerns asserted themselves. He was desperately thirsty. He pulled his water bottle from his laptop bag, miraculously unbroken, and drank greedily. The water hitting his parched throat was almost painful in its relief. He forced himself to stop after draining half, saving the rest.

  Food. He needed food.

  Looking up at the sky for the first time, David saw two things that made his situation clear. First, the sun was low in the east toward downtown, still morning. So the rules of the world still applied and his laptop wasn’t just freaking out. Second, there was an enormous pillar of light in that direction, like a solid beam of luminescence stretching from earth to sky. Others dotted the horizon, possibly ringing the city.

  The beacon. The quest wanted him to go there immediately for safety. But...

  David took inventory. Work clothes, dead phone, laptop with maybe two hours of battery, half a bottle of water, and whatever junk was in his laptop bag. His stomach cramped with hunger. He wouldn't make it downtown in his current state. The beacon might be safety, but he needed supplies for the journey.

  His apartment had little; he didn’t really cook and had needed to pick up more snacks so coffee, beer, bottle of nice wine in case he got lucky and he blanked not actually remembering having any actual food at home right now. Maybe emergency mac and cheese or something in the freezer? Were there any takeout leftovers? No, he finished them for dinner. Not good enough. But wait, the CVS three blocks away would have been open 24/7. If people were just unconscious like he'd been, there would be someone there to check on. Plus food, water, and supplies.

  The beacon could wait an hour and he could always retreat to his apartment if things got dicey. He needed to be smart about this.

  David set off toward the CVS, hyper-aware of every sound in the unnatural quiet. His footsteps seemed to echo off the empty buildings. No cars on the street, either in motion or crashed. Still that could mean anything until he got to the main road past the CVS.

  He paused at an intersection, looking down an even smaller residential street, no movement. He looked into each parked vehicle he passed. No bodies, but also no signs of life. Where was everyone? The word "initiated" kept echoing in his mind. He'd survived it, gotten a title for it. What happened to those who didn't survive?

  The ghost stirred again, and for just a moment, David could have sworn he heard distant whispers. Not from the spirit bound to him, but from somewhere else. Many somewhere elses. The air itself seemed to whisper with newfound strangeness.

  Magic had come to the world. David was beginning to suspect he was one of the very few awake to witness it.

  He picked up his pace toward the CVS. The pillar of light loomed in the distance, patient and waiting. But first, he needed supplies and human contact.

  The empty city stretched before him, transformed by two days of abandonment into something alien and threatening. David pulled his laptop bag tighter against his side and moved forward into the silence, the ghost's cold presence his only companion in this brave new world.