The streets of New York were a graveyard of the world I used to know. Skyscrapers, once gleaming symbols of ambition, now stood like cracked tombstones, their glass facades shattered by shockwaves from the Integration. Cars piled into chaotic barricades, some still smoldering from whatever cosmic force had flipped reality upside down. The air reeked of ozone and blood, and screams echoed from every corner as people ran, fought, or died. The System had arrived, and it didn't care about rush hour or rent payments.
I pedaled my beat-up bike through the madness, weaving between abandoned taxis and overturned food carts. My heart hammered, not just from the sprint but from the blue screen still burned into my retinas.
[System Notification: Welcome to the Integrated World. Earth has been selected for assimilation into the Multiversal System. All inhabitants will receive a Status Sheet. Adapt or perish.]
That was an hour ago. Since then, I'd seen a barista hurl fireballs at a winged lizard, a cab driver summon a glowing shield, and a kid—couldn't have been older than ten—turn invisible to escape a claw swipe. Me? I got this:
[Status Sheet: Alex Thorne]
• Level: 1
• Class: Hunter (C-Rank Potential)
• Primary Ability: Replay (Unique). Rewind personal timeline by up to 5 minutes. Cooldown: 1 hour. Uses per day: 3. Note: This ability does not affect global events or other entities directly.
• Stats: Strength 8, Dexterity 10, Intelligence 12, Vitality 9, Magic 5
• Skills: None
• Inventory: None
C-Rank. Bottom of the barrel. And Replay? Five minutes of do-over time sounded like a prank in a world where people were tossing lightning or growing claws. But I wasn't dead yet, thanks to that first desperate use of it.
A tentacle monster—some slimy, level 3 horror the System labeled a "Voidspawn"—had snagged me mid-ride, its pseudopod coiling around my ankle like a living noose. I'd activated Replay on pure instinct, and the world had blurred backward. Suddenly, I was back on my bike, five minutes earlier, the monster's attack just a memory. I'd veered into an alley, heart pounding, as the thing grabbed someone else instead. Guilt gnawed at me, but I wasn't a hero. Not yet.
I needed a weapon. My bike wasn't cutting it, and my fists sure as hell wouldn't. Ahead, a hardware store loomed, its neon sign flickering "OPEN" like a cruel joke. The glass door hung ajar, looted already. I ditched the bike, its front wheel wobbling from a earlier crash, and slipped inside.
The store was a mess. Shelves toppled, hammers and screwdrivers scattered across the floor like shrapnel. A flickering fluorescent bulb cast eerie shadows, and the air smelled of sawdust and panic. I scanned for anything useful—nail gun, maybe? No luck. Most of the good stuff was gone, probably snatched by someone with a better ability than mine.
In the back, I found a crowbar, its cold steel heavy in my hands. Not a sword, but it'd do.
[Item Acquired: Improvised Crowbar (Common). Durability: 50/50. Damage: Low.]
Low damage. Great. The System wasn't exactly handing out legendaries to C-Ranks. I gripped it tighter, testing its weight. My old life—bike courier, occasional gamer, perpetually broke—hadn't prepared me for this, but I'd played enough RPGs to know the drill: gear up, grind, survive.
A crash from the front snapped me out of it. Glass shattered, and a creature burst through the window—a goblin, maybe, but uglier. Green skin, jagged teeth, eyes like oil slicks. The System tagged it: Goblin Scout, Level 2. It hissed, claws glinting, and lunged.
I swung the crowbar, pure adrenaline. Missed by a mile. The goblin's claw raked my forearm, pain flaring like a hot wire.
[Debuff Applied: Minor Wound. -10% Dexterity for 10 minutes.]
Blood dripped onto the floor, warm and sticky. No time to think. I activated Replay.
The world lurched, colors smearing like a bad paint job. Suddenly, I was back at the moment I grabbed the crowbar, the goblin's entrance seconds away. This time, I noticed its snarl—right claw twitching before it struck. I sidestepped, swung again. Clang. The bar hit its shoulder, but it barely flinched, counterattacking with a slash to my thigh.
[Debuff Applied: Minor Laceration. -5% Movement Speed for 15 minutes.]
Son of a—Replay again.
Back to the crowbar moment. My arm and thigh ached with phantom pain, but the wounds were gone. This time, I adjusted my stance, feet wider, like I'd seen in some YouTube krav maga tutorial years ago. The goblin lunged; I dodged left, swung for its neck. Thud. It staggered, dazed, but lashed out, grazing my ribs.
Replay. Last one for today.
Back again. Crowbar in hand, heart pounding. I'd seen the goblin's moves three times now. Right claw, snarl, slight lean before the lunge. I exhaled, steadied my grip, and waited. It burst in. I sidestepped, pivoted, and brought the crowbar down with everything I had, aiming for the base of its skull. Crack. It dropped, twitching, then stilled.
[Enemy Defeated: Goblin Scout (Level 2). XP Gained: 20.]
I leaned against a shelf, panting. Blood pounded in my ears, but a grin crept onto my face. Three tries, but I'd done it. Replay wasn't flashy, but it worked. The System pinged again.
[Skill Acquired: Basic Melee (Novice - 5% Mastery).]
Five percent? I'd swung that crowbar dozens of times in those loops, iterating on every miss. The System must've counted the rewinds as practice. A spark of hope flared. If I could compress hours of training into minutes…
Outside, the chaos hadn't slowed. Portals pulsed in the sky, spitting out more monsters. Screams mixed with the crackle of magic—fireballs, ice shards, some guy summoning a freaking spectral wolf. I bandaged my arm with a rag from the store, wincing as the fabric tightened over the shallow cut. No healing powers for me, just good old-fashioned first aid.
I stepped back into the street, crowbar slung over my shoulder. A group of survivors had formed a makeshift defense nearby, barricading an intersection with cars. A woman with glowing hands patched up a bleeding man, while another guy—built like a linebacker—smashed a minivan into a wall to block a portal's line of sight. They were adapting, fast. Envy twisted in my gut. Why couldn't I have gotten something like that? Fire, flight, invulnerability?
Because you're C-Rank, Alex. Deal with it.
Then I saw them: a family trapped in a sedan, surrounded by three goblins—levels 2 and 3. The mom shielded her kids in the backseat, the dad banging on the horn like it'd scare the things off. The goblins clawed at the windows, cracking the glass. No one from the barricade was moving to help—too busy holding their own line.
I tightened my grip on the crowbar. Three on one, with no Replays left. Stupid move. But I couldn't just watch. I sprinted over, shouting to draw their attention. "Hey, uglies!"
The goblins turned, hissing. The level 3 was bigger, its claws longer, a crude bone club in one hand. I had maybe ten seconds before they overwhelmed me. No do-overs. Just what I'd learned.
First swing: aimed for the smallest, level 2. It dodged, but I anticipated it from my store fight, pivoting to catch its side. Crack. It screeched, stumbling. The other two charged. I ducked the level 3's club, but the second level 2 raked my shoulder.
[Debuff Applied: Minor Laceration. -5% Strength for 10 minutes.]
Pain seared, but I kept moving. Swung again, clipped the second goblin's leg. It fell, and I finished it with a desperate overhead strike.
[Enemy Defeated: Goblin Scout (Level 2). XP Gained: 20.]
Two down, one to go. The level 3 roared, swinging its club. I rolled, barely, the weapon grazing my backpack. My ribs ached—phantom pain from earlier Replays mixing with real bruises. I couldn't keep this up. Then I noticed the car's cracked windshield. An idea hit.
"Hey!" I yelled at the dad. "Floor it when I say!"
He nodded, eyes wide. I baited the goblin, feinting left, then right, leading it in front of the car. "Now!"
The sedan lurched forward, smashing into the goblin. It crumpled, pinned against a lamppost. I ran up, crowbar raised, and slammed it into the creature's skull.
[Enemy Defeated: Goblin Brute (Level 3). XP Gained: 30.]
The car stopped, and the family spilled out, the mom sobbing as she hugged her kids. "Thank you," the dad said, gripping my hand. "You're a hero."
"Nah," I muttered, wiping blood from my face. "Just stubborn."
A new ping interrupted my thoughts.
[Skill Progress: Basic Melee (Novice - 10% Mastery).]
Ten percent already? The System was definitely counting my mental rehearsals from the Replays. This was huge. If I could grind skills in loops, I could outpace anyone, even A-Ranks. But I was out of Replays for the day, and my body felt like it'd been through a meat grinder.
The barricade group waved me over. A woman in her thirties, with short-cropped hair and a glowing staff, approached. Her System tag read: Mira, Level 4, Healer Class. "Nice work," she said, eyeing my crowbar. "You got a guild yet?"
"A guild?" I blinked. "This started, like, an hour ago."
She smirked. "Things move fast now. We're forming a safe zone here. Join us, or you'll be monster chow by morning."
I hesitated. Groups meant safety, but also politics. I wasn't ready to commit. "I'll think about it."
"Suit yourself." She handed me a water bottle. "Name's Mira. Find me if you change your mind. Or if you need that arm patched up."
I nodded, grateful but wary. As she walked away, I caught a glimpse of a tattoo on her wrist—a symbol like a fractured clock. Weird. No time to dwell, though. The System pinged again, this time with a flicker—a glitch, like static across my vision.
[Hidden Notification: Anomaly Detected. Replay Origin: Unknown Source. Compatibility: High. Warning: External Observation Detected.]
External observation? My skin prickled. Was someone—or something—watching me? The text vanished before I could process it, leaving only questions. No one else seemed to notice anything odd when I glanced around. Just me, then.
Night was falling, the sky a bruised purple streaked with portal glows. The barricade group had secured the intersection, and Mira's healing kept injuries at bay. The family I'd saved joined them, safe for now. I found an empty apartment in a nearby building, its door kicked in but defensible. Barricading it with a couch, I slumped onto the floor, crowbar beside me.
My mind raced. Replay wasn't just a reset button—it was a training hack. Those goblin fights proved it. I'd turned sloppy swings into precise strikes in minutes. What if I practiced other skills? Parkour, lockpicking, even talking my way out of trouble? Five minutes at a time, I could master anything.
But that glitch… "Replay Origin: Unknown Source." The System wasn't supposed to glitch, right? And "External Observation"? That sounded like someone knew about my ability. Hunters? A faction? Something worse?
I pulled up my status again, checking for changes.
[Status Sheet: Alex Thorne]
Level: 1 (XP: 70/100)
Class: Hunter (C-Rank)
Primary Ability: Replay (Uses: 0/3 remaining today)
Stats: Strength 8, Dexterity 10, Intelligence 12, Vitality 9, Magic 5
Skills: Basic Melee (Novice - 10% Mastery)
Inventory: Improvised Crowbar (Common, Durability: 45/50)
Seventy XP. One more fight, and I'd level up. The wounds stung, but Mira's water helped. I sipped, staring at the crowbar. Tomorrow, I'd test Replay again—maybe practice dodging, or aim for weak points. If I could grind skills faster than anyone, C-Rank wouldn't hold me back.
As I drifted toward sleep, the glitch's words haunted me. External Observation Detected. Someone was out there, watching. And I had a feeling they weren't friendly.
[System Update:]
• Current Level: 1
•Skills Mastered: Basic Melee (Novice - 10% Mastery)
• Replay Uses Remaining: 0/3 (Reset at dawn)
• Recent Buffs/Debuffs: Minor Wound (-10% Dexterity, 8 minutes remaining), Minor Laceration (-5% Strength, 7 minutes remaining), Adrenaline Rush (+5% Dexterity for 30 minutes)
• XP Gained: 70 / 100 to Next Level
Flavor Text: "Time bends for the persistent. Keep swinging."