Max quickly learned that a body made of stone didn't sleep. There was no drifting in and out of dreams, no blinking awake, no groggy haze. His awareness simply remained… present, floating inside the weight of unmoving mineral.
Oddly enough, the constancy didn't bother him. It was almost peaceful. A calm he hadn't felt in years, maybe longer. He didn't have assignments, shifts, alarms, deadlines, or late fees. His thoughts drifted at their own pace while the Idle System quietly accumulated progress.
The energy that flowed through the earth became his companion. Qi drifted in lazy, invisible currents around him, brushing against the cracks and imperfections that formed the equivalent of veins in his stone body. Each time that faint warmth slipped inside, he felt the system respond—numbers shifting upward, tiny changes happening without pain or effort.
> Idle Qi Absorption (F): 17%
Idle Tempering (F): 10%
Idle Insight (F): 8%
The progress wasn't fast, but it was steady, rhythmic, like listening to waves you couldn't see. He'd spent so much of his former life chasing time that the idea of letting time work for him still felt unreal.
He could almost picture a past version of himself scoffing at how lucky he'd become.
The world outside never stayed still long enough to let him drift completely. Max began to define time by vibrations—by the life that walked, stalked, and slithered across the surface.
Small creatures dominated the lighter patterns: dozens of tiny impacts skittering in zigzags across the forest floor. Their steps were quick and nervous, always ready to dart. Sometimes one of them passed so close above him that Max could feel individual paw taps.
Larger animals walked with a slower, more deliberate cadence. Their weight pressed deeper into the soil, creating ripples that shivered through Max's awareness. Some padded with grace, almost silent despite their size. Others stomped with a kind of casual arrogance, the forest bending beneath them.
And then there were the monsters.
The first time Max felt one—really felt it—he thought the sky must have fallen.
A single step landed with a force he could only liken to a meteor impact. The ground trembled so violently that fine cracks splintered along the edges of his stone form. Soil shook and shifted as if trying to flee.
Max froze.
He couldn't see it, but he could picture it through instinct alone: something huge, powerful, unconcerned with everything around it. Each footfall came with such weight and confidence that Max could feel nearby roots snapping under the pressure. When the creature paused, the earth compressed until Max's body creaked.
His awareness tightened, every part of him screaming the same silent plea: Don't step here. Don't step here.
The monster lingered. Sniffed. Shifted. For a moment, it felt like it would dig into the ground or stomp in frustration.
Then the pressure lifted. Heavy strides moved on. The tremors faded, slow and steady.
Max remained paralyzed long after they disappeared.
In life, he'd feared debt collectors, failing exams, disappointing professors. This world redefined terror without ever letting him see the thing giving him nightmares. It humbled him. Reminded him how utterly fragile he was in this form.
And yet… he wasn't helpless.
He had time. He had growth. He had a system designed to reward patience.
As long as nothing crushed him first.
Max let the system continue its cycle. Slowly, imperceptibly, his density rose. His internal structure tightened. The warmth inside his core grew stronger and more controlled.
Idle Insight sharpened as well. At first, all tremors had felt similar—ripples through earth with little distinction. But now Max could sense differences: the tension in a predator's steps, the uneven rhythm of something wounded, the rapid heartbeat of prey running for its life.
Soon he noticed something stranger—something more structured and intelligent than anything he'd felt so far.
Footsteps. Human footsteps.
They were lighter, more balanced, more controlled. Each impact fell with intention. The cadence was neither frantic nor predatory; it was measured, like someone sweeping the area or patrolling.
Max focused with all the awareness he could muster. The footsteps came closer, moving past tree roots and patches where the soil was thin. Their weight distribution was different from beasts—heel-to-toe, heel-to-toe, steady and patient.
A second pair followed. Then a third.
A small group.
They didn't run. They didn't stalk. They walked with a kind of confidence that only came from strength—the kind he associated with cultivators in stories.
Max strained to pick up more. Occasionally one of them spoke, but the vibrations were too muffled for him to interpret. Even so, the tone carried curiosity, sometimes caution. They were searching for something.
For a terrifying moment, one set of footsteps stopped directly above him.
A person crouched.
Max felt a hand or palm press gently against the soil. A thin wave of energy washed downward—Qi, but controlled, refined, deliberate. The cultivator was scanning the ground.
His core tightened. If they sensed him—felt even a hint of spiritual energy in the earth—they might dig him up. A spirit-bearing stone wasn't just unusual; it was valuable. Max could easily end up crushed, taken, refined, or used as cultivation material before he ever got the chance to evolve.
He quieted himself—dimmed his internal Qi circulation, suppressed even the tiniest resonance of thought. He forced himself to become still in a way he hadn't since awakening.
The hand lingered for several seconds that felt like hours.
Then the pressure lifted. The footsteps moved away, the conversation picking up again.
Max was alone once more.
Relief trickled through him like cool water. At the same time, a sobering thought settled deep in his core: Humans exist here. And they're strong. Strong enough to sense things in the earth.
He needed to evolve. Or at least grow fast enough that his spiritual presence didn't scream "harvest me."
The Idle System chimed softly.
> Idle Insight (F) – 14% → 15%
Comprehension increased.
For the first time since waking in this strange world, Max didn't only feel his situation.
He understood part of it.
This place—this forest—wasn't some peaceful beginner-friendly zone. It was active, wild, and dangerous. The number of footsteps above told him that powerful creatures ruled entire territories. The presence of humans meant cultivators moved through the area with purpose. Maybe hunting. Maybe patrolling. Maybe searching for rare resources.
And Max, in their eyes, would be exactly that: a resource.
Not a person. Not a soul with memories. Not a human displaced by death.
Just a stone with Qi.
His system responded, almost as if driven by his fear.
> Idle Qi Absorption (F): 27%
Idle Tempering (F): 20%
He hadn't known stones could feel determination, but something like it pulsed through him.
He wouldn't stay helpless forever. He wouldn't be a pebble waiting to be kicked aside by beasts or picked up by cultivators. If this world gave him a system meant to evolve him, then evolution would become his shield, his weapon, his path forward.
He focused on cultivating harder—if "harder" even made sense for an idle skill. He extended his awareness toward distant tremors, letting his mind stretch until the soil's slow heartbeat felt natural. He embraced the stillness, letting the currents of Qi flow deeper into his fractures and channels.
Time—or whatever passed for it underground—continued.
At some point, the muddled sounds above were replaced by a strange quiet. No footsteps. No scurrying. Not even wind.
The forest held its breath.
Then the earth shook.
Not like before. Not the heavy stomp of a lone monster. This was faster, repeated, rhythmic.
Running.
A creature sprinted across the forest floor with frantic speed. The vibrations grew stronger with every step, getting closer to Max's location. It leaped, landed, scrambled—before sliding down a crack in the earth directly toward him.
Max didn't have time to think.
A small body collided with him—a warm, trembling creature. Fur brushed against his side. Tiny claws dug into the dirt as it wedged itself behind him, quivering with ragged breaths.
A prey animal. Terrified. Hiding.
Max tried to sense what it was running from, but he didn't have to wait long. The ground above convulsed as something far larger approached. Its steps were sharp, quick, scraping the earth with digging claws. The vibration was wrong—hot, crackling faintly. Something infused with fire Qi.
A predator.
It paused right above Max. Sniffed. Scraped at the soil. The pressure of its presence made Max feel brittle, fragile, dangerously exposed.
He couldn't run. He couldn't roll. He couldn't even shift an inch.
But he wasn't entirely defenseless.
Vibration Pulse—his only active skill—hummed weakly in the back of his awareness, a pulse of pure kinetic force he could trigger at will.
He didn't know if it could do anything. The predator felt small enough compared to the giant beast from before, but still far stronger than his current form.
And behind him, the tiny creature trembled, heartbeat pounding a rapid, terrified rhythm.
Max focused. Gathered what little internal energy he had. He aimed upward.
And he fired.
The shockwave blasted upward through the soil in a burst of force. Dirt erupted, showering the predator's face. The creature screeched in fury and recoiled.
The small animal behind him darted forward, bold now that it had a chance. It jumped from Max's surface and latched onto the predator's snout with desperate courage.
The predator thrashed. Soil shifted violently. The tiny creature was thrown off—but only for a moment.
Max had no time to hesitate.
He fired Vibration Pulse again—twice as strong, sharper, fueled by every scrap of fear he could muster.
The pulse struck the predator squarely. The tremor of impact traveled through Max like a drumbeat. The creature staggered. Its weight collapsed forward. It hit the ground with a final, heavy thud.
Silence followed.
The system chimed.
> You have slain: Ember-Fanged Weasel (Lesser Beast)
EXP +18
Residual Qi detected. Absorb?
Max accepted without hesitation.
The fiery Qi surged into him. It was hot—almost painfully so—but invigorating. His channels expanded. His density increased. Almost immediately, Idle Tempering seized the new energy and refined it into something smoother, purer.
Durability increased.
Internal warmth deepened.
Awareness sharpened.
The small creature—the one Max had indirectly saved—returned briefly. It tapped his side once, a soft, grateful vibration, before scampering off into a narrower tunnel.
Max let the moment settle through him.
He wasn't just surviving.
He was participating in the world, even if only by accident. Even if only barely.
His system chimed again.
> Idle Tempering (F): 32%
Idle Qi Absorption (F): 41%
Idle Insight (F): 21%
Evolution 1: Progress advancing smoothly.
He wasn't strong yet. Far from it. But the forest was beginning to feel less like a grave and more like a proving ground.
And Max, buried deep in the soil, felt something he hadn't felt in years—something he'd nearly forgotten.
Momentum.
The quiet world beneath the forest continued to shift around him, life flowing endlessly above and below. And Max, for the first time since waking as a rock, believed he could change his place within it.
The Idle System wasn't just a second chance.
It was a way forward.
And he intended to climb it. One patient, silent step at a time.