Everett, although still confused by the events that had dragged him into a realm of frost and riddles, made a decision: he wouldn't stay still. He would walk forward—because in stories, people who stay in place die of cold, boredom, or narrative irrelevance.
And so began his uneventful journey—with a cube humming by his side like a motivational paperweight.
Some time passed, and as Everett trudged across the shimmering frost-sand, his frozen boots finally scraped against something new: structure. A city. No—something more surreal. Sharp crystalline towers jutted out like frozen lightning. Bone-like arches stretched across roads paved with geometric glyphs. It looked like an architect had thrown a tantrum inside a snow globe.
Everett's heart raced. He was cautious, but also genuinely thrilled. Civilization meant information. Information meant answers. And hopefully, answers didn't come with teeth.
As he crept in through the outer alleyways, he saw them—inhabitants. Creatures of all shapes and biological opinions filled the cold streets: Towering reptiles walking upright like bipedal thunder. Giants tall enough to use buildings as chairs. Ghost-like entities that shimmered with no bodies, only swirling robes. Alien forms—too strange to compare, too real to ignore.
It was Everett's first time seeing true interdimensional diversity.
"...As expected of aliens," he muttered, half-joking.
And then came the weirder part—he could understand them. A pair of hulking lizardfolk chatted by a hovering soup stall:
"This year's participants seem like weaklings."
"There's too little meat. I bet the Realm Culls will finish in record time."
Everett gulped.
-----
🧊 Class Profile Update: Cube of Becoming
Status: Confirmed
Class Type: Unique / Singular
Designation: Anomaly Class – 001
Description: You are not a warrior, mage, or assassin. You are something new. You are the first and only known wielder of the Cube-Class. A living progression system bound by emotion, narrative weight, and the whims of the world's script. Your class evolves, not levels up.
Confirmed Traits:
Evolving Form: The cube changes to reflect surrounding phenomena (i.e., red moon imprint).
Language Comprehension (Passive): Understands all known languages in the Realm of Frost.
Mystery Slot [LOCKED]: Activation condition unknown.
Narrative Alignment: Class progression tied to emotional or plot-relevant actions.
Current Quests:
Survive 24 hours in the Realm of Frost.
Discover Cube-Class Functionality.
Do not die before anything cool happens.
-----
Everett tucked himself into a narrow alley.
As he walked out of the alley, he found a small stall.
A 10 cm tall dwarf stood behind it, perched atop a canister like it was a throne. The dwarf squinted up at him and replied, "Hey, a skinny Cercopithecidae! I haven't seen one of your kind."
"What is your kind called?"
"Me? My kind is called human."
"Hummannn, huh?" the dwarf cackled. "So you're this time's participant, huh."
"Yes, good sir," Everett said, keeping polite, "can you tell me what's this all about? This second phase, or first trial, if you can?"
"Hmm. You're quite polite for a skinny candidate," the dwarf said, stroking a tiny beard like he was considering a business proposal. "So I, the great Grimbleshank Ironpocket, shall answer you!"
The dwarf—Grimbleshank Ironpocket, as he so grandly introduced himself—adjusted his posture on his canister-throne and leaned in with theatrical seriousness.
"In our endless cosmos," he began, his voice unexpectedly deep and solemn for a ten-centimeter-tall being, "life is both the most precious… and the least precious thing."
Everett raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt.
"The resources of existence—matter, energy, habitable zones, even metaphysical constants—they can be said to be endless. But also… too few. Too scattered. Too desired." Grimbleshank's tiny eyes gleamed with the weight of cosmic knowledge. "And what do mortals do when they all want the same shiny thing?"
"They fight," Everett replied quietly.
"Exactly!" Grimbleshank shouted, waving a soup ladle like a war banner. "They fight. Wars, conflicts, dominions rose and crumbled. Civilizations ascended to stellar heights, only to collapse into radioactive ash. The strong enslaved the weak. The cunning devoured the naive. Entire species were tossed into war machines like kindling into fire."
Everett swallowed hard. The frostbitten city around him suddenly felt older. Deeper. Haunted by eons of bloodshed.
"This cycle continued for eras beyond counting," Grimbleshank continued, his voice lowering. "Eras where heroes were born—champions who dared to defy the system. And eras where those same heroes died—buried beneath the very conflicts they tried to stop."
Everett didn't move. He barely breathed.
"And then… after infinite dust had settled," the dwarf whispered, "a being was born. No one knows what they were—not a god, not quite mortal. But it is said they were the kindest and the cruelest. The most divine… and the most broken."
"What did they do?" Everett asked.
"He saw the endless cycle and wept. Not for himself—but for the lives lost. For the dreams shattered. For the peace that never came. So… he sacrificed himself. Gave his essence, his laws, his everything—to create a structure. A lifeform that could span the cosmos. That could learn, adapt, and rewrite its own limits. A system of trials. A Game of Realms."
And Everett Miracle, a skinny human with frozen boots and a glowing cube, had just entered the first round.