Kael Renar knelt by the stream, his hands trembling as he adjusted the fish trap's vines. The jungle's dawn pressed against him, heavy with the scent of damp earth and the metallic tang that clung to Eryndor's air. Four days in this alien world had carved lines into his face—hunger, exhaustion, and the constant threat of monsters left no room for rest. His tattered hoodie hung loose, his sneakers were more holes than leather, and his blistered hands ached from weaving vines and wielding the scavenged rod. The rod, with its faint hum and erratic sparks, was his only real tool, a lifeline in a world that seemed designed to kill him. Yesterday's discovery on the beach—the boulders' glowing veins reacting to the rod—had lit a spark of hope, but hope was a luxury he couldn't afford when his stomach was a gnawing void.
The outcrop, his new shelter, was a step up from the hollow: a stone overhang shielded by woven vines, offering a narrow view of the jungle's approach. His satchel held a meager stash—six tart berries, a pile of fish bones, and a gourd of sweet stream water. The fish trap was producing, but barely enough to keep him alive. The rift in the sky, flickering each night above the ocean, loomed in his mind. Its violet glow was sharper now, a silent warning of something coming. The cliffside ruins, with their console's talk of an Astral Compass and Nexus, promised answers, but the winged beast patrolling them made that a suicide mission. For now, Kael's world was the jungle, the stream, and the beach boulders, where the rod's hum hinted at secrets he was determined to crack.
"Day four," Kael muttered, his voice a hoarse rasp. "Eat, build, learn. Don't die." His coder's mindset—break problems into functions, test, iterate—was all that kept him sane. The rod was his input, Eryndor the output, and he was stuck debugging without a manual. He stood, wincing as his knees protested, and grabbed the rod. Its warmth steadied him, a reminder that it was more than metal. Today, he'd return to the boulders. If they were part of Eryndor's arcane-tech web, they might reveal more than sparks.
The trek to the beach was a familiar gauntlet. The jungle buzzed—chittering insects, vines that twitched like nerves, and distant roars that tightened Kael's grip on the rod. He marked trees with notches, a habit from coding sprints where every step was tracked. The stream glittered as he passed, its fish trap holding two small, silver-scaled fish. He reset it, noting the water's glow, brighter today, like the motes were alive. Another mystery, but survival trumped curiosity. He'd eat tonight, but only if he didn't get eaten first.
The beach stretched before him, its sand grinding under his fraying sneakers. The ocean churned, its waves flecked with unnatural light, and Kael kept his distance. The shapes in the water—sinuous, too large—were a problem for another day. The boulders loomed ahead, their metallic veins dull in the violet-gold sunlight. Kael approached the largest, a slab etched with faint runes, and touched the rod to its surface. The hum surged, and the veins flickered, a pulse that echoed in his chest. His coder's instincts screamed: this was a node, a connection point. He pressed harder, willing the rod to respond as it had with sparks.
The air thickened, a static hum building. The rod vibrated, almost slipping from his grip, and a voice—cold, synthetic—cut through his mind: "Interface detected. Initiating protocol… User: Anomaly. Designation: Kael Renar. Activating System."
Kael stumbled back, the rod searing hot. The voice wasn't just in his head—it resonated through the sand, the air, his bones. A translucent panel flickered into view, like a debug window hovering in the air. Words scrolled across it, sharp and unyielding:
System Online. Welcome, Kael Renar. Class Assigned: Game Guider. Level 1 (F-). Stats Initialized: Strength 4, Agility 6, Intellect 9, Endurance 5. Skills Unlocked: Spark (Novice), Scavenge (Novice). Quest Log Activated. Primary Objective: Seek the Astral Compass to restore Nexus functionality. Secondary Objective: Survive.
Kael's breath caught. The panel was a UI, raw and minimalist, like a game's alpha build. He reached out, half-expecting it to vanish, but it stayed, tethered to his gaze. "System?" he croaked, feeling absurd. The panel pulsed: Query acknowledged. The System governs Eryndor's essence, balancing chaos. As Game Guider, you shape its flow. Functions locked until progression.
He exhaled, a shaky laugh escaping. "Isekai'd into an RPG. Figures." But Eryndor's reality—its hunger, its monsters—grounded him. The System wasn't a cheat code; it was a tool, and tools had limits. He studied the panel. Game Guider was cryptic, hinting at guiding others, maybe players, but offering no immediate power. Spark (Novice) formalized his rod's ability, Scavenge (Novice) his knack for finding berries and bones. The stats were pitiful—Intellect 9 was his only decent score, fitting his problem-solving brain.
A notification blinked: Experience Gained: 3 XP (Boulder Interface Activation). Level Progress: 3/200. Kael frowned. Three XP? For triggering a world-altering System? The grind to level 2—200 XP—felt like a slap. If this was the pace, reaching level 100 would take years, or hundreds of tasks. But the System's structure was familiar: stats, skills, quests. He could work with that, optimize it like code.
He dismissed the panel and gripped the rod, its hum now sharper, synced to him. He aimed at a pile of seaweed, willing a spark. The arc was weak, flickering, but it singed the edges. The System chimed: Skill Used: Spark (Novice). Proficiency +1/100. No XP, and the dizziness hit harder than before. Kael cursed under his breath. The System was stingy, its rewards a trickle. He'd need to grind every action—sparks, scavenging, survival—just to inch forward.
Hunger pulled him back to the present. The System didn't feed him or shield him from monsters. He trekked back to the outcrop, collecting his fish and checking the stream's glow. The motes were denser, almost forming patterns. He filed it away, too tired to speculate. At the outcrop, he sparked a fire, the effort leaving him woozy. Skill Used: Spark (Novice). Proficiency +1/100. Still no XP. He cooked the fish, their flaky meat barely denting his hunger, and ate in silence, the System panel hovering like an unwelcome guest.
Kael toggled through the UI. The Quest Log listed Astral Compass (no progress) and Survive (daily reward: +2 XP). The Skills tab showed Spark and Scavenge, their proficiency bars crawling. The Stats tab hinted at growth through effort, but raising Strength or Endurance meant physical grind, not just XP. A locked Functions tab taunted him, marked Requires System Upgrade (10,000 XP). Kael snorted. Ten thousand? He had three. This was a marathon, not a sprint.
He leaned back, the stone cool against his spine. The Game Guider class nagged at him. Guiding what? The console had called him an anomaly, non-native. Were natives out there, or was Eryndor waiting for others—players, like an MMO? The rift's growing brightness suggested a trigger, maybe tied to the System's activation. Kael's coder brain spun: if players were coming, he'd need to be ready, not a level 1 nobody scraping by on fish.
The afternoon was spent reinforcing the outcrop. He wove thicker vines, piled stones, and cleared debris, each task a slog. The System chimed once: Experience Gained: 2 XP (Shelter Improvement). Level Progress: 5/200. Five XP total, after hours of work. Kael gritted his teeth. The grind was brutal, but he'd debugged worse. He tested Spark again, targeting a dry leaf. The arc was steadier, but the System gave nothing—no XP, just Proficiency +1/100. He stopped, head spinning. Overusing Spark was like overclocking a CPU—it burned him out.
Dusk settled, and Kael sat by the fire, the rod across his lap. The System panel glowed faintly, a map of his constraints. Level 1, F-, with a class that promised more than it delivered. The Astral Compass was a distant goal, tied to the Nexus and his isekai. He'd chase it, not for glory, but because it was a puzzle, and Kael Renar solved puzzles.
The ocean's hum sharpened, and Kael glanced skyward. The rift was there, its violet light pulsing like a signal. It was brighter, closer, and faint shapes flickered within—humanoid, maybe, or something else. His grip tightened on the rod. The System knew something he didn't, and time was running out. Two days, maybe less, and Eryndor would shift. Kael wasn't ready, but he'd survive, grind, and turn this world's code against itself, one meager XP at a time.