Dylan Hayes died brushing his teeth.
Not in a fire. Not during a heroic save. Just a slip, a crack, and blackout.
He'd lived 22 years as a dropout, gamer, and self-taught coding nerd. Then his skull met the edge of a toilet bowl at the wrong angle. Crack.
No light at the end of the tunnel. No angelic chorus. Just...
Nothing.
Then, breath. His own. Shaky, ragged. Cold air scraped past his lips like dust. A sharp pain throbbed behind his eyes.
He opened them.
Reddish sky. No clouds. No sun. Just flat, oppressive light. Like a filter laid over reality. He was lying on cracked earth, surrounded by scorched brush and distant howls.
His brain kicked in:
Arms? Yes.
Legs? Working.
Blood? None visible.
Clothes? Different. Not his pajama bottoms. Sturdy boots, dark pants, strange material.
He sat up slowly. The air smelled like metal and ash.
Then it happened.
Text. White. Floating.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED]
He blinked.
More text followed.
[HOST IDENTIFIED: DYLAN HAYES]
Dylan sat up and took it all in.
No clouds. No structures. No movement.
He tried a thought: Status.
The system answered instantly:
[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Dylan Hayes
Level: 1
Class: Shadow Monarch
HP: 100
MP: 100
Fatigue: 0
Strength: 10
Agility: 10
Perception: 10
Vitality: 10
Intelligence: 10
Control: 10
Stat Points: 0
Shadows: 0 / ∞
Inventory: —
Equipment: —
Skills: —
Shadow List: Empty
He thought: Skills.
A new panel.
[SKILLS]
Scan
He closed the panel with another thought.
Inventory. Empty.
Equipment. Empty.
Map. Nothing.
Help. No reply.
He kept walking. The landscape dipped and rose again, a fractured ridge ahead.
A lizard-like creature darted across the path. Dylan paused.
Scan.
[ENTITY: Scavenger Lizard]
Level: 1
HP: 20
Abilities: Heat Resistance (Minor)
Status: Passive
It hissed and ran.
"Okay. So that works."
The system gave basic info if the target was weak and close. Logical.
The creature paused a few feet away. Dylan picked up a stone.
One throw. One hit. It dropped.
Dead.
He thought: Shadow Extraction.
Nothing happened. Just a faint pulse of resistance.
[Extraction Failed: Target willpower exceeded threshold]
He narrowed his eyes.
So even trash mobs could resist. Or maybe his level was just too low.
He crouched beside the corpse. The body twitched faintly, and then stilled.
Dylan stood up. "Shadow Monarch with no shadows. Perfect."
But he had one data point: Control mattered. He'd increase it.
One failure didn't mean the system was broken.
It meant it was strict.
He looked to the distance again. Past the next ridge.
The world was waiting.
And he was just getting started.
The ridge was steeper than it looked.
Dylan half-slid down the slope, loose dirt kicking up behind his boots — or whatever passed for boots here. The fabric was rough, mismatched, stitched like military surplus, but breathable. Definitely not what he died in.
"System doesn't care about wardrobe," he muttered.
At the bottom of the ridge, he paused. Wind scraped across dry stone. The sky was still that hazy, ember-red, with no visible sun. Just light. Just enough to see by. Just wrong enough to make your skin itch.
He crouched low near a cluster of rocks — cover, just in case — and called up the interface again.
[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Dylan Hayes
Level: 1
Class: Shadow Monarch
HP: 100
MP: 100
Fatigue: 0
Strength: 10
Agility: 10
Perception: 10
Vitality: 10
Intelligence: 10
Control: 10
Stat Points: 0
Shadows: 0 / ∞
Inventory: —
Equipment: —
Skills: —
Shadow List: Empty
[SKILLS]
– Scan
No cooldown. No MP cost. Just… there. A thought away.
"Useful," he said. "Too bad I've got nothing to use it on."
As if the world heard him, something shifted nearby.
Crunch.
A soft, dragging noise over dirt. Followed by another. Then silence.
Dylan froze.
Something was moving.
He crouched lower, eyes narrowing. No HUD popped up. No [Warning: Enemy Nearby]. No handy arrow pointing to danger.
He peeked around the rocks.
There it was.
Something… humanoid. Gaunt. Too long. Its skin gray and stretched like dried leather. Arms down to its knees. Head tilted sideways like it didn't quite know what a neck was for. It moved with erratic jerks, sniffing at the dirt, dragging one clawed hand through the dust.
Dylan didn't move. Not even a breath.
"Scan," he thought.
[TARGET SCAN COMPLETE]
Race: Wretchspawn
Type: Feralspawn – Tier 0
HP: 70
MP: 20
Abilities: Enhanced Hearing
Known Skills: —
Threat Level: Low
Low.
That was new.
"So the system does assess," Dylan whispered. "Even if it's vague."
The creature jerked its head up — too fast. Too sudden. It hadn't heard him. Just… twitched. Its jaw cracked open slightly, showing teeth that weren't quite human, weren't quite animal.
It moved again — away from him.
Dylan watched it go, tension still wound tight.
One thing was clear now — this wasn't Earth. And whatever this thing was, it probably wasn't alone.
"Let's try something," he whispered.
He picked up a sharp, fist-sized stone and waited until the creature was twenty feet off. Then he stood. Threw the rock.
It hit square in the back of its skull.
The Wretchspawn whirled — fast, eyes glowing faint blue — and shrieked.
It charged.
Dylan didn't flinch.
He waited until it closed half the distance. Then rolled sideways, grabbed a longer shard of rock, and drove it straight up into the thing's gut.
The scream it made was gurgling. Wet.
It collapsed on top of him, twitching. Foul-smelling liquid seeped onto the dirt.
Dylan shoved it off. Wiped his hands on the grassless soil.
[XP GAINED: +10]
[LEVEL UP: 2]
[UNASSIGNED STAT POINTS: +3]
"Okay," he muttered. "That's fast."
He opened the window.
[STATUS WINDOW]
Level: 2
Stat Points: 3
Everything else was the same.
He didn't spend the points yet.
Instead, he stared at the body.
Still warm. Still bleeding.
"Shadow Extraction."
He thought the phrase.
[SHADOW EXTRACTION: INITIATED]
Target: Eligible
Shadow Creation – FAILED
Control stat too low
"Huh."
So it wasn't just kill-and-raise. He needed more Control. Or maybe luck. Or both.
Still, he'd confirmed something important: Shadow Extraction wasn't free.
And now he had a body.
He crouched again, took in details.
The creature had worn nothing — not even cloth. Its limbs were too long for clothes. Its nails had grown like curved bone. The face looked stretched, like the skin was molded over a skull never meant for humanity.
"Feral world," Dylan whispered. "No civilization. No signs. Just monsters."
He looked at the blood staining his forearms.
And grinned — just slightly.
"Perfect place for a kingdom."
The system stayed quiet. As always.
But in the corner of his vision, the XP bar nudged forward.
He still had 90 XP to go.