The system didn't give me time to breathe.
[All participants, gather at the nearest plaza.]
[Scenario condition: Survive the first wave.]
The text blinked in front of me, as cold and impersonal as a corporate memo.
The next moment, my body jerked forward. Not by choice. The floor twisted beneath me, reality tugging me like a puppet on strings.
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my dingy apartment.
I was standing in the city square except it wasn't a square anymore.
✦
Hundreds of people had been dragged here, dumped in a circle like cattle awaiting slaughter. Office workers in suits, college kids still clutching backpacks, even a grandmother clutching her groceries.
All of us frozen. All of us terrified.
And at the center, the system message hovered:
[Welcome, players.]
[Survive the First Hour.]
[Monsters approaching in 3… 2… 1.]
The countdown hit zero.
And the hounds came.
✦
They were wrong. That was my first thought.
Wrong shapes, wrong mouths, wrong legs. Half-wolves, half-nightmares, too many eyes glowing like shards of broken glass. They bounded from the edges of the plaza, jaws snapping.
The crowd screamed.
One man bolted for the street. The hound was on him in seconds, teeth sinking into his back. The crunch echoed, followed by a notification:
[Participant 1,232 eliminated.]
The number of survivors on my HUD ticked down. Again. And again.
My stomach twisted. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a game.
This was a slaughter.
✦
"Move!"
The voice cut through the chaos like steel.
I turned.
A young man strode forward from the crowd, black hair streaked with silver, eyes sharp as blades. Unlike the rest of us trembling in panic, he moved like someone who had done this a thousand times before.
The hounds lunged.
He met them with nothing but his bare fists.
And he won.
One punch crushed a wolf's skull. A kick sent another flying into the pavement, bones snapping. His movements weren't just strong they were practiced. Too practiced.
The system rewarded him instantly:
[Participant Kael Arathis has earned Title: Hero of the First Hour.]
A cheer rose from the survivors. Hope sparked.
And my stomach sank.
Because if Kael was the "Hero," then what the hell was I supposed to be?
✦
While everyone rallied around him, I slipped toward the edge of the plaza. My instinct wasn't to charge headlong like Captain Edgelord—it was to survive.
That's when I saw it.
A weapon half-buried beneath rubble.
It looked pathetic. A rusted dagger, thin as a broken pen. Honestly, it looked like something you'd find at a flea market for five rupees.
But the system pinged anyway:
[Item Acquired: Nameless Growth-Type Weapon (Grade ???)] [Growth Condition: Rewrite alongside its wielder.]
I blinked. "Wait… growth-type?"
It pulsed faintly in my hand, warm.
Kael slaughtered monsters like a demigod. And me? I was holding what looked like my old fountain pen had been melted down and forged by a drunk blacksmith.
"Fantastic," I muttered. "He gets 'Hero of the First Hour.' I get stationery."
Still… I gripped it tighter. Because it was all I had.
✦
The hounds broke through the panicked crowd.
Screams tore the air. Blood splattered across concrete. Kael roared, tearing through them like a living storm, his fists now glowing faintly as if even the system itself bent to his presence.
Meanwhile, a hound lunged straight at me.
My new "weapon" trembled in my grip.
Panic flared and then the familiar editor window popped up.
[Sentence: The hound ripped through Ishaan Reed before he could defend himself.]
>[ Rewrite? (Y/N)]
My heart pounded. My breath hitched. And with shaking hands, I jabbed at Y.
The sentence flickered, shifted:
[Sentence: The hound stumbled, leaving its throat exposed.]
My body moved before my brain did.
The dagger-pen sank into the monster's neck.
There was no resistance. No physics. Just… the story changing because I said so.
The hound collapsed in a heap, lifeless.
And in my hand, the weapon pulsed its rust flaking away, the blade glowing faintly like fresh ink.
✦
A system message rang out:
[Participant Ishaan Reed has earned Title: The Lone Quill.]
The announcement echoed across the plaza. Heads turned. Survivors stared. Even Kael's sharp eyes flicked toward me, narrowing.
The gods were watching.
And for the first time, I realized this wasn't just about survival.
This was about stories.
And mine had just begun.