Chapter One: The Scroll and the Screen
2025 – Chicago, Illinois
The glow of Logan's phone screen flickered across his sharp cheekbones, casting a dim blue light over the otherwise shadowed apartment. His muscular arms were folded behind his head as he lay on the worn leather couch, eyes scanning rapidly between reels of social media nonsense and the digital pages of his latest obsession—the Architecture Series.
Outside, the winds of early spring scraped against the window like distant claws. Chicago's skyline was mostly still, except for the flicker of a passing train and the buzz of distant streetlamps struggling to hold back the dark.
Logan Cameron was 24 years old and sculpted like the kind of guy a fitness app would beg to sponsor. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and usually shirtless around the apartment, he moved like someone who could bench press a motorcycle—and probably had. But tonight, even with a set of weights in the corner calling his name, Logan was deep into something else entirely.
His thumb scrolled downward slowly now. Social feeds were the same garbage: influencers showing off rented cars, talking heads ranting about AI ethics, and apocalyptic weather trends. None of it compared to Architecture, the eBook currently burning a hole in his mind.
It wasn't about buildings. Not really.
The Architecture Series was something else. A modern world twisted by anomalies—hidden monsters living under urban skylines, brutal conspiracies involving ancient blueprints and esoteric math equations that could reshape reality. In the story, every city held secrets: whole dimensional pathways disguised as hospitals, monsters trapped inside subway tunnels, and architects trained in more than just design—they were warriors, guardians, the last line of defense against creeping urban rot.
Logan had reached Chapter 11. The protagonist, Orin Kessler, had just discovered the Rift Engine buried under Vienna, hidden beneath an abandoned opera house. A door to something not meant for human eyes.
He stopped reading, staring up at the cracked ceiling. The fiction always pulled him in like gravity. It was better than the world he lived in. More real, somehow.
Buzz.
A notification lit up. New message. From someone named MarionGhost7.
> "You see it yet?"
Logan blinked. Who the hell—?
Another ping.
> "Page 256. There's a map. Zoom in. Now."
Curious, Logan tapped into the eBook and jumped to the page. Sure enough, there was a sprawling blueprint-style map, thin lines inked like veins, connecting cities across the globe. Tokyo. Cairo. Berlin. Chicago.
He zoomed in.
There—just at the lower right corner—Chicago had a mark on it. Not a dot like the other cities. A spiral. A symbol. He leaned in closer.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated harder than usual. The screen flickered—then went black.
"What the f—?"
He sat up. The lights in the apartment dimmed for a second, then stabilized. The phone was dead. Entirely unresponsive.
And then, from the hallway beyond the living room, there came a sound.
Not from the walls.
Not from upstairs.
From inside the apartment.
Scrape.
Logan rose quietly, eyes narrowing. His muscles tensed like coiled steel, every nerve on alert. That wasn't the furnace. That wasn't the neighbors.
That was something new.
And as he stepped closer to the hallway's dim mouth, he remembered something Orin Kessler said in the last chapter:
-------
The thick Architecture Series: Vol. IV cradled in one arm. The scent of old paper and polished floors filled the corridor.
Then—fswooh.
A shimmering pulse of energy rippled through the air, warping the corridor like heatwaves on asphalt. Logan didn't even have time to flinch.
Reality bent.
The world twisted sideways, colors smeared, sound dulled into silence—and in the blink of an eye, gravity reclaimed him.
He fell.
No time to scream. Just a rush of wind and light.
Then—
THUD!
He crashed through layers of canopy, snapping branches and smacking into rough bark before slamming onto a soft, moss-laced forest floor. Leaves fluttered down around him like green confetti.
Groaning, Logan rolled onto his side, the Architecture book still miraculously clutched in his bruised hand.
Above, thick trees stretched impossibly high, blotting out much of the sky. Strange chirps echoed in the distance. The air smelled of damp soil, sap, and something faintly… electrical.
Logan sat up slowly, blinking.
"Where the hell am I?"
The forest didn't answer. But something out there was watching. Something… ancient.
------
Logan brushed the leaves and dirt off his black-and-red jersey, adjusting the matching shorts and flipping his backwards cap tighter on his head with a flick. The thick Architecture Series book now hung awkwardly from one hand, but Logan wasn't fazed. Not even when the forest shook.
Trees groaned. Birds scattered.
Then, from behind a ridge of moss-covered boulders, it emerged.
A massive green dragon, as tall as a skyscraper and as wide as a football field, lumbered into the clearing. Its scales were layered in leaves, vines twisted down its neck like braided cords of jungle, and glowing emerald eyes settled directly on Logan.
The dragon tilted its head, its voice deep and rumbling like thunder rolling across mountains:
"Oh? A human? Are you from another universe or something?"
Logan stared, blank-faced. "…Bruh."
He took one step back, scanned the towering creature up and down, then rolled his eyes.
"Okay. Hold up. First of all—where the heck am I? Second, who the heck is this big walking lettuce doing in the middle of a bootleg Jumanji map?"
The dragon blinked—then chuckled. The earth itself seemed to rumble with its amusement.
"I am the Dragon Lord of Plant. Keeper of Verdant Realms. Master of the Wild Growth. You stand within the heart of the Verdant Region, outsider."
He leaned in slightly. "You remind me of those... online travelers."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Bro, what? What do you mean, 'online travelers'—what, like Discord mods in chainmail? Man, tell me what's goin' on, 'cause one minute I'm on campus, next minute I'm getting tree-smacked in some prehistoric huge a** forest."
The Dragon Lord chuckled louder. "This is the planet Caelus—sometimes called the Elorian World, a realm within the natural universe."
Logan squinted. "This some isekai garbage, ain't it? Lemme guess—some Japanese shut-in gets killed by truck-kun and wakes up surrounded by elves and magic spells?"
The Dragon stared blankly.
"…What is 'Japan'?"
Logan sighed. "Never mind."
The Dragon nodded. "Though you are correct. Elves do exist—far in the frostbitten land of Eris, ruled by the Ice Queen herself."
A faint green pulse lit up across the dragon's chest—like a glyph blooming on bark. The Dragon paused, as if listening to distant voices.
"I must go. The other Dragon Lords summon me. But here—"
He lowered a giant claw and placed a glowing scroll on the ground. A shimmering world map unrolled, levitating just above the forest floor, revealing continents, realms, and kingdoms all drawn in beautiful living green ink.
"Explore. Survive. Learn."
With that, the massive Dragon spread its vine-laced wings. The wind howled as it lifted off into the sky, bursting through the treetops in a flurry of leaves and swirling petals.
Silence returned to the clearing.
Logan just stood there.
Hat tilted. Book in hand. Jersey still dirt-streaked.
"…Bruh."
He looked around.
"…I need Wi-Fi or a monster repellent. Whichever comes first."
....
Logan pushed past another low-hanging vine, muttering to himself as he trudged through the vast, wild forest. Massive trunks surrounded him like ancient pillars, each one dripping with moss and buzzing with insect life. The air was damp and thick, full of unfamiliar scents—earth, bark, and some kind of floral spice.
Birds cawed overhead. Leaves rustled in strange rhythms.
"This place really is some fantasy cosplay forest," Logan mumbled, glancing left and right. "Where the heck's a big a** Starbucks when you need one?"
CRACKLE.
A rustle to the right.
Then a blur—something leapt from the bushes.
A tiny, snarling creature—roughly the size of a toddler but shaped all wrong—lunged at him. Its twisted wooden body creaked with unnatural movement, yellow glowing eyes locked in rage. Jagged fingers like roots stretched forward as it let out a high-pitched, demonic screech.
Logan flinched, stumbling back—then his eyes narrowed.
"Oh, you tryna jump me?"
He balled his fist—
BAAM!
The punch landed square in the imp's jaw, sending a crack through its barklike skull as it collapsed into the dirt with a grunt.
But Logan wasn't done.
With a quick step forward, he ran up and kicked the stunned creature, launching it like a football. It flew through the air, hit a tree with a brutal SMACK, and dropped like a sack of mulch.
[DING!]
Suddenly, a glowing blue panel shimmered into the air in front of him like a hologram:
---
🌟 SYSTEMATIC GUIDE SYSTEM 🌟
🗡️ Achievement Unlocked:
MONSTER SLAYER
"You decked a demon with your bare hands. Respect."
---
Logan blinked at the screen.
"…Yo what in the Elden Ring knockoff—?"
He waved his hand through the screen. It flickered a bit, then stayed solid.
He cracked his knuckles. "Alright, if there's a system… that means this world's got levels, loot, and probably more of those little tree gremlins."
Logan looked ahead, adjusting his backwards cap.
"Cool. Let's go full DLC on this world."
And with that, he walked deeper into the woods, the Achievement still glowing proudly behind him.
--------
Logan pushed through the thick underbrush, branches scratching his arms as he ducked under twisted limbs and stepped over gnarled roots. The deeper he went, the darker it got—sunlight filtering only in slivers through the high forest canopy. Somewhere nearby, something growled.
He stopped.
Then—
rustle… rustle… SNAP.
From the shadows, dozens of glowing yellow eyes lit up like tiny lanterns.
A whole hoard of demon imps crawled out from the foliage, snapping twigs beneath clawed feet. Their bark-like bodies twisted and cracked with every step. Some were barely knee-high—but a few stood nearly four feet tall, snarling and flexing their sharp wooden limbs like weapons.
Logan narrowed his eyes and cracked his knuckles.
He spat to the side. "So we doin' this now, huh? Bring it on, you walking lawn gnomes."
He took a step forward, planted his feet wide, and raised his fists in a loose stance—shoulders relaxed, grin cocky.
"Y'all about to catch these bare hands in HD."
The imps screeched and charged.
One lunged—SMACK! Logan sidestepped and palm-striked it in the face, snapping its head back as it crumbled.
Another leapt from a branch—Logan grabbed it mid-air and suplexed it into the ground with a CRACK.
Three more surrounded him, slashing—Logan ducked under one, elbowed the second in the ribs, then used the third as a blunt weapon, swinging it around like a club to knock the others back.
The taller ones came next—snarling, more intelligent. Logan dropped into a crouch and swept one's legs out with a low kick, then popped up and drove his fist into another's chest, splitting it in two.
Wooden shards and green sap flew through the air. Demonic squeals filled the forest.
Logan twisted, leapt off a fallen log, and axe-kicked the last of them right on its crooked head.
CRUNCH.
Silence followed. Dozens of demon imps lay scattered across the clearing, twitching or fully unconscious, their bodies splintered like firewood.
Logan straightened up, breathing steady.
"…And that's why you don't mess with a Jersey kid."
Suddenly, another Systematic Guide screen popped up in the air:
---
🔥 COMBAT STREAK UNLOCKED 🔥
Bare-Handed Brawler
"Defeated 20+ enemies without a weapon. Who needs swords when you've got fists?"
Reward: +2 Strength | +1 Reflex | New Ability Unlocked: Momentum Combo
---
Logan grinned as he wiped sap off his arms.
"Now we're talkin'. Where's the boss fight?"
And with that, he marched forward, ready for whatever Caelus threw at him next.
-----
Logan stood in a quiet clearing, surrounded by shattered imp bodies and dappled beams of light breaking through the high forest canopy. He exhaled, rubbing his shoulder with a lazy shrug. The adrenaline had worn off. The silence was getting… boring.
He glanced up.
"Alright, let's see what this fancy fantasy HUD can really do."
He raised his hand, and like before, the Systematic Guide shimmered to life—a glowing, translucent screen floating mid-air. This time, he tapped through the options.
[Settings] > [Interface Appearance]
A color wheel popped up, and Logan smirked.
"Let's give this thing some flavor."
He dragged the sliders, picking a deep electric blue for the main panels, with bold streaks of black and red lining the edges. Flames animated gently at the borders—stylized, not over-the-top. Like a boss menu in a sci-fi game.
"🔥 There we go. Now it looks like something I'd actually use."
Then he noticed more tabs:
Investigation App
Analyze Mode
Camera Function ("Yo this camera clean—wait is that night vision?")
Danger Alert
Civilization Radar (currently blank: "No known settlements nearby")
Search Bar
Logan raised a brow. "Man, this is straight-up ChatGPT with DLC."
He tapped the search bar. "Music."
A list opened up, surprisingly rich:
Mystic Trap
Caelus Synthwave
Elven Choir Mixes
Deep Forest Beats
Instrumental Hip-Hop Pack [Offline Ready]
Logan whistled. "Not bad for a magic tree-world."
He reached into his shorts pocket, pulled out his phone—battered but alive—and checked it. "Still got 67%? Bet."
A prompt popped up:
Would you like to link device to Systematic Guide?
> [YES]
Syncing…
Connection established.
Logan grinned, scrolled to his saved playlist, picked a gritty instrumental hip-hop beat with a heavy bassline, and hit Play.
The beat kicked in, smooth and steady.
Drums. Echoes. Flow.
With the music pulsing in his ears, Logan adjusted his cap again, slung the Architecture book under one arm like it was a shield, and started walking—through brambles, past strange trees, vibing like he was on a casual hike rather than a surreal forest crawl.
"Alright, Caelus," he muttered, "let's see how deep this rabbit hole goes."
The forest loomed ahead. Shadows shifted.
But Logan walked like he owned the place, the beat trailing behind him like a victory anthem.
------
Logan, still bobbing his head slightly to the instrumental beat in his ears, spotted something strange through the thinning trees ahead—a shimmering, stone-framed structure embedded in the roots of an enormous tree. A portal, circular and humming with energy, stood right in the middle of the forest clearing.
He blinked. "The hell is that?"
Opening his Investigation Information Provider, a calm, robotic voice whispered into his mind:
> [Identified: Central Transfer Gateway – Leaf Dragon Domain Portal Hub]
"Shortcut route to Central World Continent – access open. Tap once for transfer."
"Shortcut, huh? Easy hop?" Logan muttered, walking toward it. "Say less."
But as he moved closer, his finger accidentally brushed the glowing center glyph.
FWOOSH!
The world bent again—wind rushed past, his body turned light, and suddenly:
BAM—
Logan dropped flat into soft leaves and loamy soil, in a wide clearing surrounded by thicker trees and distant mountains. Birds chirped. Soft lights hovered in the air like will-o'-the-wisps.
New Region: Stonebark Expanse – Central Woodland
Logan groaned and stood, brushing dirt off his shorts, cap still tilted sideways.
"…Alright. Where the hell am I now?"
All around, other people were scattered.
Some looked like normal humans in hoodies and sneakers. Others had animal ears—demi-raccoons, demi-foxes, and demi-cats, each with twitching tails and otherworldly fashion. Some wore armor. Others had glowing tattoos. They were murmuring, trading, sharpening weapons, or fiddling with the same floating Systematic Guides.
Then—Logan spotted him.
In the distance, a tall, sharply dressed man stood perfectly still. His aura was quiet, yet unnerving. He wore a sleek black tuxedo, a white-and-black mask covering his mouth, and dark sunglasses that hid his eyes completely. His name drifted above his head in faint letters.
Rambo.
Next to him stood two instructors.
—Aelun Lighthollow, a golden-haired, androgynous boy with a flowing robe of blue and gold, radiant and soft-spoken.
—Mirella Glimmershade, a stern-looking woman with shimmering blue robes, calm but clearly evaluating everything.
Aelun stepped forward with a friendly expression, offering a hand to help Logan up.
"Hmm… what's someone like you doing in the deep woodland region?" Aelun asked, voice melodic. "You don't seem to carry any burden of society's rejects. No signs of systemic pressure. You don't even look… unwell."
Rambo tilted his head slowly. Then he spoke, voice low and measured.
"He's not from here. He's not even from this universe."
Mirella blinked. "A world-walker?"
Aelun looked at Logan with a new, glinting curiosity. "How did you get here?"
Logan, still brushing moss from his knees, raised a brow. "I don't even know, bro. I touched some fancy forest button and now I'm surrounded by freaking fox girls and mystical crossdressers. Where the hell am I again?"
Rambo nodded calmly. "This is the Central Traveler Zone. The Starting Point for most Chosen Travelers."
Mirella stepped forward, speaking clearly.
"Travelers—those who couldn't thrive in society. High house prices. Crushed dreams. No job. No degree. No place left."
Aelun added, "This realm is their new beginning."
Mirella's gaze settled on Logan. "Would you like to join the Travelers' Program? Training, shelter, progression. A purpose."
Logan shrugged. "Pfft, why the heck not. Beats writing papers and dodging rent."
Aelun smiled and extended their hand toward Logan's floating system panel. With a shimmer of light, a new contract glyph appeared between them.
"By joining, I'll connect your profile to the Central Systematic Guide Grid."
[SYNC COMPLETE]
User: Logan Cameron – Registered Traveler
> Traveler Tier: Unranked
Starting Location: Stonebark Expanse – Camp Thalorin
Logan stretched his arms. "Cool. So... y'all got food? Or a vending machine at least?"
Rambo chuckled quietly under his breath. Aelun smiled wider. Mirella just sighed.
The journey had officially begun.