Max had just lost the last round against his sister, Kaitlyn. He wasn't upset—if anything, he was grinning. The score was now tied going into the lunch break, and that meant bragging rights were still up for grabs.

His team—made up of older siblings and younger parents from town—were all trying to apologise for the loss.

"Sorry, Max. I just didn't get my gun up in time," said one portly twenty-five-year-old, who happened to be Kaitlyn's friend's brother.

"Don't worry about it, Stan," Max said, waving off the apologies. "We'll crush them after lunch."

Kaitlyn's victory had come down to luck—and the fact that two of her teammates were in the Army Reserve.

Across the field, Max spotted his mum climbing onto the makeshift stage. He could tell by the way she adjusted the microphone that she was about to call everyone over for lunch—and probably remind them to wash their hands, too.

Then he noticed a car pulling into one of the last free parking spots. A late arrival. Max squinted. He recognised the car—it was Oscar's from Bunnings.

He started making his way toward it when a strange weight pressed down on the air. The music cut off mid-beat.

Silence.

Not the usual quiet you get between songs or announcements—a real silence. No birds, no cicadas, not even the low hum of the two generators that powered everything. Just… nothing.

Then came the sound of startled gasps. Adults stumbling back, some even yelling in confusion. A few clutched their heads or rubbed their eyes like they'd been hit with a flash of light.

Max froze, heart pounding.

He looked around until he spotted Kaitlyn standing beside their dad across the field. Their eyes met—and instantly, the strange connection the twins shared kicked in.

No words, just instinct. She didn't know what was happening either. They both needed to get to Mum. And yes—she should drag Dad along, no arguments.

Max pushed his way through the crowd. People were talking over each other, shouting, or staring blankly into space. Someone was crying. Someone else was swearing. He ignored them all and kept moving.

By the time he reached his family, he caught the tail end of his mum and dad's hushed conversation.

"So you got the same message?" Mum was saying. "The one about the System—and three extra levels?"

"Yeah," Dad replied grimly. "And I've got a list of… stats, I think?"

Max came to a stop beside them, glancing from one to the other.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Emma looked up at the sound of Max's question. Before answering, she scanned the crowd. Most faces were frozen between shock and fear, though the younger ones just looked confused. Right, she thought grimly. Turning to her twins, she said,

"I don't know what's going on, but your dad and I will find out. Please—stay right here where I can see you."

She didn't give them a chance to argue. Instead, she grabbed Liam—her husband, and unfortunately, the town's mayor—by the arm and started shoving him toward the stage.

"It's time to do some of that leadership thing," she muttered.

Liam just grunted but climbed up onto the makeshift stage anyway, Emma following close behind.

He took one look over the restless crowd, cupped his hands around his mouth, and bellowed, "COO-EE!"

The old bush call cut through the confusion like a whip crack. Conversations died mid-sentence. Heads turned. When people recognised him—Mayor Liam Carter, father of the birthday twins—their confusion turned to shouting.

"What's going on?" "Why's there blue text in my vision?"

"why am I suddenly so hungry?" "Did you see—"

"NO! JUST—NO! I mean it!" Liam's voice thundered, raw and commanding. "All of you—just fucking shut up!"

That did it. The crowd froze. The shock of hearing their mild-mannered mayor swear like that was enough to pull everyone to a halt.

Liam didn't waste the moment. "Okay. I don't know what's going on either. But I'm going to tell you what happened to me, and then Emma will do the same. So everyone—just listen, and we'll figure this out together."

The murmurs died down to a cautious hush. Emma stood beside him, scanning the crowd, keeping one eye on Max and Kaitlyn near the front.

"I felt… an oppressive pressure, just before the music stopped. And the generators," Liam began.

"Yeah, my phone's dead too!" someone yelled from the crowd.

Within seconds, everyone was checking their phones—pulling them from pockets, tapping screens, shaking them as if that would help. Not a single one worked.

A piercing whistle from Emma—sharp enough to cut through steel—snapped the crowd back to attention.

"Thank you," Liam said dryly. "Then the pressure vanished, and I got a blue text box. In my head."

That got murmurs again—whispers, exclamations, people testing the air in front of them, muttering under their breath.

"From what I can tell," Liam went on, louder this time, "we—everyone on Earth, apparently—are now part of something called the System. It gives us stats, levels, and points to spend. There was also a message about… champions? Battling for us? Whoever they are, they earned us three extra levels and some other what seems like awesome benefits."

That sparked another round of chatter—half disbelief, half excitement. Then a voice near the front called out, "I spent my extra points! You just use your finger on the little plus boxes next to your stats!"

Dozens of people immediately started poking at the air in front of them.

"STOP!" Emma shouted, stepping forward. "Don't spend your points yet! We need to know what they actually do first!"

Most of the crowd froze. A few sheepish faces looked up, caught mid-tap. But others just kept going, jabbing at invisible menus until their nine stat points were gone.

Emma groaned quietly, rubbing her temples. "Oh, for heaven's sake…"

Kaitlyn stood in her slightly too-big army boots she had gotten online on the soft grass, her camo-painted hand gripping Max's tightly. She kept her eyes fixed on their parents up on the stage, trying to make sense of the shouting, the frightened voices, and the strange blue text boxes she couldn't see.

Everyone was talking about messages, levels, and something called "skills." But neither she nor Max had seen anything. No glowing text, no weird blue boxes—nothing. Just confusion.

Max fidgeted beside her, tugging against her grip. "I'll be right back," he whispered. "I just want to find Sam."

Kaitlyn tightened her hold until her knuckles went white. "Mum told us to stay where she can see us. And I'm not making her upset just because you can't stand still."

Max pouted, but didn't pull away again. Around them, people were whispering, testing invisible menus, and comparing notes like they'd all suddenly joined the same video game. The air buzzed with tension—half excitement, half fear.

It wasn't long before their friends found them—Sam, Mia, and tall Hayden—slipping between the adults to get to their side.

"I don't have any messages," Sam whispered, wide-eyed. "Did you guys?"

Kaitlyn shook her head. Max mirrored her.

"No, nothing," Mia said, her voice barely audible. "Mum's freaking out though—she says she saw numbers floating next to people when she blinked."

Before Kaitlyn could respond, a familiar voice rang out from nearby—June, the woman from the servo.

"Tarni—uh, Mr. Walker—said to me yesterday that if anything weird happened today, we were supposed to head to the Riders' property! Isn't that close to here?"

Emma turned toward her from the stage. "Yes," she called back, raising her voice so all could hear. "It's about four clicks that way." She pointed west, past the treeline. "Bell and Lily said something similar to me yesterday when I saw them in town."

That got the crowd going again. Voices rose—half shouting, half arguing.

"Zane said something about that too!" "Didn't Kai warn everybody in the Pub about this?" "Maybe they knew!"

It felt like the whole field was vibrating with noise, fear, and questions no one could answer. Kaitlyn could tell her mum was trying to calm everyone, trying to get them organised—to move toward the Riders' place, maybe—but no one was really listening anymore.

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Then the first scream tore through the air.

It started somewhere near the back of the crowd—a high, ragged sound that cut through the chatter and froze everyone where they stood.

For one breathless moment, the world went silent again. The kind of silence that hurt to listen to.

Then came the second scream—louder, closer—and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.

Kaitlyn's hand found Max's again, this time without thinking.

"Max," she whispered, voice trembling, "something's wrong."

Yosef's flight was going great. No turbulence, no screaming babies, the flight crew moving with practiced grace up and down the aisle. For once, everything felt normal—except for the gnawing in his gut. His instincts screamed that something was very, very wrong.

He'd already done a full circuit of the plane under the pretense of stretching his legs, scanning every face, every movement. Nothing suspicious. No one out of place. Satisfied—at least outwardly—he'd returned to his seat, buckled in, and tried to rest.

That was when it hit him. The unmistakable, icy feeling of being sighted through a sniper scope.

Every muscle in his body locked tight, his mind flashing through a thousand drills, escape scenarios, counters—none of which helped him now. He was thirty thousand feet over open ocean. There was nowhere to go.

Then came the sound. A rising, whining pitch from the engines. The sudden, stomach-lurching drop.

The cabin erupted into chaos—screams, loose objects flying, passengers without seatbelts slamming into the ceiling as the aircraft pitched into a violent glide. The whine grew louder, more erratic, until Yosef recognised the noise for what it was.

The turbines are spinning backwards… wind-driven. The engines were dead.

He gripped the armrest, forcing his breathing to steady as the world tilted around him. He'd accepted the thought that this was it—when something impossible appeared before his eyes.

A translucent blue window. Floating in the air.

SYSTEM MESSAGE

Congratulations, Yosef Cohen. Your world (Earth) has been fully initialised into the SYSTEM.

A Random Skill has been selected for you.

Due to the efforts of five champions, you have been granted 3 levels and the following global integrations:

Skill proficiency now increases through use

Party system unlocked

Map system unlocked

Item drop rate increased

Safe Zone created (Future Safe Zones can be established)

Bag of Holding

added to loot tables

Job Classes and Crafting Skill Sets added to Skill Tree

Guild & Quest System unlocked

Soul-Bond Companions (1 in every 100,000)

Quality-of-life improvements to the System interface

You have 9 points to spend. Class: Basic Human +3 Points per level Level: 3

Stats Strength: 8 Dexterity: 8 Constitution: 9 Intelligence: 7 Wisdom: 8 Charisma: 3

Titles: Nil Skills: Aqua Breath — You can breathe underwater for 1 minute per point in Constitution.

Gear: Nil

Yosef blinked, trying not to glance out the window at the ocean rising fast to meet them. Stats. Points. A system. None of it made sense—but the dread that had haunted him since takeoff… was gone.

Training took over. He assessed the situation, calculated the odds, and decided in seconds.

Impact in forty-five seconds. If he survived the hit, he'd be underwater. With no power, no rescue. The stronger his body, the tougher his lungs, the longer he'd live.

He moved his focus to the glowing numbers. So used to using a touch screen, he raised his hand and tapped the plus button 9 times

The window shimmered, updating.

Constitution: 18

A strange calm settled over him as he tightened his seatbelt and braced for impact. If this System is real, he thought, then I've still got a chance.

The nose dipped further. The blue sky vanished behind a wall of roiling sea. And then the world went white.

The ocean rose up like a living wall. There was no time to pray, no time to think—only the terrible moment when gravity forgot what direction it was supposed to pull.

Then the world hit.

Metal screamed. The cabin ceiling exploded into white froth. Yosef's seatbelt crushed into his chest, and the air fled his lungs in a single brutal gasp. The sound wasn't one noise but hundreds—tearing metal, shattering glass, the thud of bodies, the animal panic of people too afraid to die quietly.

For a heartbeat, he was sure he was gone. Then the pain hit, hot and sharp, and the System chimed.

[-123 HP] Current HP: 57 / 180

"Still alive," he croaked, more to convince himself than anything.

Water roared through the fuselage, turning the world sideways. The plane was sinking nose-first. The light from the outside world flickered out completely, leaving only the surreal blue glow of the System window hovering in the dark.

Yosef reached up, unclipped his belt, and braced himself as another jolt ripped through the frame. His training, from his time in the IDF—came back in fragments: orient to light, move with the current, conserve breath.

But now…

He remembered the words. Aqua Breath: one minute per point in Constitution.

Eighteen minutes. That'll do.

He dove.

The water was freezing—shocking even through his clothes. Pressure punched at his ears as he pushed toward where the plane's skin had torn open. Bodies drifted past, arms and seatbelts tangled, eyes open but unseeing. He didn't let himself stop.

the flickering light of the surface gave him his heading. The water outside was a storm of bubbles and twisted debris, the once-mighty plane coming apart in slow, silent ruin.

He kicked free through a jagged hole, his lungs still calm, still drawing invisible air through the water. The skill was real. It was actually working.

He looked up. The surface shimmered far above—a silver mirror.

He started to swim.

[Skill: Aqua Breath — Proficiency +1%] [You have survived a lethal impact. Passive Endurance unlocked.]

New Skill: Iron Will — Panic effects reduced by 30%.

For the first time since the engines failed, Yosef laughed—short, cracked, and wild. The System wasn't just a hallucination. It was real enough to keep him alive.

A shadow passed overhead—massive and silent. For a heartbeat, he thought it was wreckage. Then the shape moved against the current.

Something was in the water with him.

He froze, every instinct screaming again—the same way it had before the fall. His mind reached for the calm the System had given him, but even it couldn't suppress the chill crawling down his spine.

He turned toward the faint light of the surface. The shadow followed.

And Yosef began to swim.

Jimmy exhaled and pulled his helmet off, running a hand through sweat-damp hair. Langley grinned faintly, the kind of grin that said we made it again.

"Tea time, yeah?" Langley offered.

"Yeah," Jimmy said, forcing a smile. "Tea sounds bloody perfect."

That's when the background noise of the city of Kabul, the cars, the trucks, the music floating on the air all just stopped.

The silence hit like a wall.

Engines, music, shouting — everything stopped. Even the constant drone of the generators, that familiar hum of safety, went dead.

The world just… switched off.

Jimmy froze, rifle halfway to his shoulder. "Sarge?" he muttered. His own voice sounded wrong, too loud, too sharp in the still air.

"Command, this is Harrow patrol," Doyle barked into his radio. "Base, come in—"

Static. Then nothing. Not even the click of a dead signal. Just silence.

"Jesus," Langley whispered. "Did we just lose power or—"

The air shimmered, and a faint chime rang inside Jimmy's skull.

SYSTEM MESSAGE

Congratulations, James Harrow. Your world (Earth) has been fully initialised into the SYSTEM.

A Random Skill has been selected for you.

Due to the efforts of five champions, you have been granted 3 levels and the following global integrations:

Skill proficiency now increases through use

Party system unlocked

Map system unlocked

Item drop rate increased

Safe Zone created (Future Safe Zones can be established)

Bag of Holding

added to loot tables

Job Classes and Crafting Skill Sets added to Skill Tree

Guild & Quest System unlocked

Soul-Bond Companions (1 in every 100,000)

Quality-of-life improvements to the System interface

You have 9 points to spend. Class: Basic Human +3 Points per level Level: 3

Stats Strength: 7 Dexterity: 8 Constitution: 8 Intelligence: 8 Wisdom: 6 Charisma: 5

Titles:

Nil Skills: Stone skin — +1 to defence. This is a passive skill and will always be active when the stamina pool is not empty

Gear: Nil

What the actual fuck," Doyle growled, ripping off his headset. "Langley, Patel — report. You seeing this?"

"Yes, sir!" Langley shouted, batting at the glowing blue box floating inches from his face. "It's just… there!"

Before anyone could respond, another sound cut through the air — a deep, distant roar, like thunder rolling over the desert. The earth trembled under their boots.

"What the hell was that?" Patel whispered.

"Back to base," Doyle snapped. "Now!"

They ran.

The base was chaos when they arrived. Men were shouting, banging on dead radios, trying to start trucks that wouldn't even cough. Someone yelled that the satlink was fried. Another screamed that even the flashlights weren't turning on.

Then came the scream from the guard tower — short, sharp, and final.

Every soldier swung their rifles toward the gate.

Shapes moved in the shimmering heat — not men. Not animals. Hulking, broad-shouldered things with skin like dark stone and eyes that glowed faintly amber.

Dozens of them. Then hundreds.

"What are those?" Langley breathed.

Doyle raised his rifle. "Open fire!"

Click.

No report. No recoil. Just the empty metallic click of a dead trigger.

Jimmy checked his safety, smacked the side of his rifle, tried again. Click click click.

Nothing. No spark. No powder. Like the bullets themselves had forgotten how to explode.

"Guns are dead!" someone screamed. "Everything's dead!"

The first of the creatures hit the wall — and climbed.

"Grab something sharp!" Doyle bellowed, ripping his combat knife free. "If it's metal, wood, I don't care — make it kill!"

Jimmy tore the bayonet from his pack, jamming it onto the useless rifle like a spear. Around him, men were doing the same — ripping open crates, pulling machetes, wrenches, anything they could use to fight.

The hobgoblins came over the wall in a wave of roars and clattering armour.

The first one hit the ground inside the wire — and kept coming, even after being stabbed twice. Jimmy met it head-on, driving his blade into its throat. Hot, dark blood sprayed across his arm.

It went down thrashing, and the blue text flashed again.

[You have slain a Hobgoblin (Lv. 2)] +20 EXP

"Use the points!" Patel yelled, his face streaked with dirt and blood. "Use them! It makes you stronger!"

Jimmy didn't stop to think — he focused on the floating stats in his mind, shoved every point into Constitution and Strength, and felt a jolt like static running through his veins.

His breath steadied. His arms felt lighter. He moved faster.

For a heartbeat, he almost believed they could hold.

Then the second wave came.

The walls buckled under the sheer number of bodies. Spears and crude blades flashed in the dust. The men fought with bayonets, entrenching tools, bare fists — anything to stay alive.

Langley was dragged down screaming. Patel went silent mid-cry. Doyle broke three skulls before a blade buried itself in his chest.

Jimmy kept swinging long after his arms went numb, blood — his and theirs — slick on his hands.

When the sun finally slipped below the horizon, the base was a graveyard.

Bodies littered the sand. Just cold, black smoke and the smell of death.

Jimmy staggered through the ruins, his bayonet broken, his face cut and swollen. He fell beside the body of Sergeant Doyle and looked up at the dark sky.

Blue light shimmered faintly in the air.

[Objective Failed: Hold the Forward Operating Base] [Survival Bonus: 900 EXP Awarded] [Level Up — Level 4]

He coughed, blood on his lips, and let out a hoarse laugh.

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