Before the skeleton, before the system, before anything took form, there was the Void. A dimensional space in between, vast yet confined, eternal yet static. In the Void, time held no sway, only space existed, and within this space, the soul lingered, suspended in timeless stillness.

  At some indeterminate point, the soul within the Void stirred, as if prompted by an unseen force.

  Once more, an immeasurable span of time elapsed in the boundless expanse of the Void. In this uncharted duration, the soul experienced its second awakening. However, this time, a transformative shift occurred.

  Unbeknownst to the master, the sensation hit him as if the ritual had just concluded mere seconds ago.

  "It worked? Well, of course, it did. I wasn't meant to fail," he mused as he regained consciousness. "Now, let's see... What is this? Are those skeletons in the distance? What is happening right now? Is this some illusion? Sailas? Disciple?" The master feebly raised his voice, seeking answers.

  The marching skeletons in the distance continued, creating more confusion. The master's inquiries multiplied as a blue screen materialized in front of him, rendering him immobile while a cascade of notifications flooded the display.

  He found himself unable to move or see beyond the flashing screen blocking his sight, and panic slowly began to creep in. The transparent blue screen dominated his vision, diverting his attention from the marching skeletons. As the screen ceased its incessant flashing, he felt the freedom to move return.

  "Haah, a hallucination?" he questioned, attempting to dismiss the surreal experience as a byproduct of the ritual or adapting to a new vessel. "I'll play along for now. This is new, though. I don't recognize these words. 'Fused' to a skeleton minion? What does that mean?"

  But as the realization dawned, he uttered in disbelief, "Wait, waaait... This isn't a hallucination?" The master comprehended that what he was witnessing was, in fact, very real, and something had gone terribly wrong with the ritual. His tower was nowhere in sight, and Sailas was conspicuously absent. Panic surged once more as he looked down at his bony hands.

  "Oh no, nonono, what is this? Where is my skin, where is my bloody skin? It's all bones, bones and-

  A prompt appeared:

  -bones!”

  “What?”

  Collapsed to his knees, the master felt the overwhelming surge of information threatening to make his head explode once again.

  "What's this now?"

  Taking a deep "metaphorical" breath, Bones, the master in his skeletal form, tried to process and make sense of the situation he found himself in.

  "Skeletons walking? Sure, why not?! And why wouldn’t I also be one?" Bones exclaimed sarcastically. "I was already old enough and one foot in the grave anyway!" An angry outburst of hallowed sound came out of Bones.

  "What have I gotten myself into… This isn’t the new beginning I hoped for. Is this even the same world anymore?"

  Everything was different. His voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well. There was a slight echo in it and it sounded more mechanical than human. He looked down, not sure even how, but he could see the whiteness of his bones and the dirt smeared on them. He could hear the rustling of leaves in the trees on a breezy night. He didn’t understand how his senses worked, and he couldn’t wrap his head around it. His mind was entirely focused on the blue screen in front of him. He felt dizzy.

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  Reading again through the notifications, he stopped at the status one.

  "Status?"

  As he said the words aloud, another pop-up appeared.

  He took a moment to gather himself, attempting to process the perplexing information before him.

  "Is this supposed to be me? Words and numbers, a collection of data written on the sheet by this...blue screen of death?" Bones mumbled, his voice carrying a groan of discomfort.

  "My name is…" Another groan escaped him.

  “Race undead? What’s an undead?” Bones questioned the unfamiliar term.

  No class, same as a profession. What is a class anyway? Attributes? Strength, agility… "Ah, I see." He concluded that these attributes applied to his physical form, or more precisely, to the physical attributes of these skeletons.

  Intelligence and wisdom at five? “That’s insulting. I find myself to be rather intelligent and with old age - even wiser.” Clearly, a mistake was made.

  As he focused his attention on his race again, more detailed information about it appeared on the screen.

  "I'm not entirely sure what to make of all this, but for now, my priority is to leave this place. Where in the world am I, anyway?"

  Glancing north, where hundreds of skeletons marched in the wake of a necromancer, was not an appealing option. "The other figure left east. I guess I'll head west then."

  And so the three characters and an army of skeletons went their separate ways, traversing the forest surrounding what was once a battlefield, venturing into the unknown. Bones struggled to move on the uneven ground, swaying through tall grass and occasionally missing a step. Nevertheless, he made his way to the forest and continued deeper, navigating the abundant vegetation. The towering trees above and all around him drew his attention—truly massive trees that surpassed any he had seen in all his years of being alive. As he walked, he refocused on the notifications. Achievements... what were those perks he gained?

  He stopped next to a tree, leaned against it, arms crossed, and pondered his next steps.

  "Achievements?"

  A screen listing his achievements opened up, and he perused the applied perks.

  "Right, right. I see how it is."

  "Perks."

  The descriptions of the so-called perks demanded careful consideration, each word a puzzle piece forming a perplexing picture. Bones, having absorbed the information, stood frozen, still leaning against a tree. His mind, now a void, struggled to grasp the enormity of what had transpired. After what felt like an eternity, but was only a few minutes...

  “It was supposed to be hours... at best! How could thousands of years have passed? Not one, but plural? More than one…?” He questioned the time warp that had ensnared him. "No, wait, wait, wait, it doesn’t change a damn thing, except for being a skeleton in the middle of a forest, talking to myself.”

  “Not a different world, then. The same world? What in the world happened then?” Bones crumbled down to a sitting position, his hand clamping around his head. Laughter bubbled up at the absurdity of the situation. Immortal? That was something he wished for. To become powerful. Now? He was immortal... immortal... he repeated the word like it was his mantra.

  He slapped his non-existent cheeks, snapping out of it. A bit different than what he expected, but this was just the chance he needed. A chance to start anew, to choose a different path to the power he so much yearned for. Maybe this system could provide him with the means! He refocused on the screen and attempted to say "Inventory," an option currently locked to him, but it echoed back empty.

  Bones fiddled with the status screen for a few more minutes. Seeing no point in dwelling, he got up and continued clumsily walking, still adjusting to the absence of flesh and muscles. A few hours in, the sun was high, barely piercing through the canopy of overhanging trees with its rays. The forest hummed with birdsong and the distant roars of beasts. It was going to be a long walk, but something to look forward to.

  Fiddling about, he slowly adapted to the persistent presence of the screen and its enigmatic functionalities. "Most peculiar system," he thought, wondering about its origin. Hopefully, he'd find answers soon. For now, he would continue inspecting what the system had to offer, including the intriguing array of skills.

  “Skills.”

  Exploring the newfound skills, Bones marveled at the gift of "Mana Vision" that allowed him to see and hear from the moment of his awakening. Racial skills, automatically bestowed. Intrigued, he pondered the potential for acquiring additional skills. Only time would unveil those possibilities. "Calm Mind, Mana Manipulation, and Mana Sense... Not bad at all. I can work with this!"

  Bones centered his thoughts and honed his senses to the mana-rich surroundings. The energy was denser, far beyond what he had experienced before. It flowed in intricate patterns, ever-changing, never settling.

  "What? How is it so dense…?" Bones uttered in disbelief.

  With determination, he envisioned drawing the mana toward himself. Initially, nothing happened, but gradually, he felt the subtle pull, drawing tendrils of mana to his being. Extending his arm, palm skyward, he imagined a small vortex of mana forming above it. Concentrating for a minute, a gentle bluish vortex materialized, swirling gracefully atop his palm.

  These were the basics, the same techniques he had used to manipulate mana in his previous life – through visualization. In those days, it took him considerable time to master. Now? It felt like second nature, akin to riding a bike after a long hiatus. A bit wobbly initially, but with practice, it became automatic. After a few hours of refining his mana manipulation, the air resonated with the familiar ding sounds of incoming notifications.

  As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the forest into shadow, Bones continued his journey. Having walked for more than half a day, he noticed distinct sounds not typical of the natural ambience – deep raspy voices and an unintelligible speech. A small camp came into view, a bit over forty meters away. Drawing nearer, Bones, realizing his almost weightless state as a skeleton, stealthily approached the source of the noise.

  Within the dim light, he identified the source: Kobolds. While not his first encounter with these creatures, they seemed different this time – taller, standing on two legs, and oddly buffed. Dressed in crude animal parts with small weapons, or perhaps claws, in hand, they appeared stronger than the kobolds he remembered.

  Observing the camp, he noted only four of them, spaced far apart. An opportunity for a stealthy approach presented itself. A thought crossed his mind – should he leave them be? There was no apparent reason to kill them, yet no reason not to either, and that was enough for Bones. In his living days, he often ventured out to clear the nearby woods of threats, and this would be his first encounter since becoming a skeleton. His plan was simple: sneak upon them and dispatch them one by one.

  Taking his time to observe the kobolds, Bones contemplated their weaknesses. He knew they had keen night vision and their scales provided some defense. One of them had approached his hiding spot, seemingly oblivious to the lurking danger. Bones attributed this to his fleshless state, making him less noticeable. After all, who would suspect a set of bones silently maneuvering through the shadows?