It was a day like any other. I was walking home from high school; the air had that lazy, late-summer warmth and the sky was the color of ember as the sun readied to set. Just an average afternoon.
I was with my friend. We had crushes on each other, but neither of us was brave enough to say it.
I don't remember much after that—the world went dizzy. The last clear thing I remember: she'd left her bag with me. I was carrying it for her—playing the hero, like always. She spun playfully and I smiled. Then she was pulled into something like a portal. I lunged to catch her and got dragged in too.
I clung to her bag; items spilled everywhere. I managed to save the notebook. Over the roar I heard a voice—cold, mechanical:
"PREPARING TO FORMAT THE USER'S BRAIN…"
Then a glitch:
REVERTING CHANGES…
FAILED TO REVERT THE CHANGES.
I tried to scream—tried to tear the sound out of me. It felt like drowning in a bottomless sea. When I finally crawled onto solid ground, a table had appeared in my head:
NAME: UNKNOWN
LEVEL: 1
EXP: 1
I reached for it, but my hand passed through. I couldn't touch it.
I blinked and found myself on green grass. The air smelled sharp, like wet metal after rain. Wind tugged at my clothes. A villager stood nearby with a shovel, squinting as if at a wild animal. He muttered, "Time for fooood…" like some sleepy prayer.
Before he closed the distance, something buzzed in my skull—louder than an alarm.
BUZZZ
QUEST 1: PICK A NAME.
Pick a name? Run? Hide?
He lunged before I could decide.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!! I screamed.
A notification pinged in my head:
QUEST COMPLETED: "YOUR NAME WAS CHANGED TO 'AAAAAAAAAA!' SUCCESSFULLY."
+1 EXP
"Oh my God, you scared me!" the villager said. His clothes were humble and dusty, not filthy. "Who are you, boy? What brings you to this village? I know every face here."
My stomach betrayed me with a loud, hungry growl. I punched my belly to quiet it. Shh. Not now.
The villager chuckled. "Oh, you're hungry, right? Come—let's eat." He started walking, feet uneven as if he'd had a drink. I didn't entirely trust him, but who else was there to trust? Inside his house a greyhound and a talbot trotted past. Weird, I thought—Talbot hounds felt like something out of a cartoon.
"What d'you want to eat, fella?" he asked, shaping dough with rough hands. He leaned close. "First of all… what's your name, boy? I should get familiar with it."
I opened my mouth and told him the truth.
AAAAAAAAAA!!