Chapter 1: A New Dawn

The bitter cold clung to Faisal's skin as he gasped for breath, his vision swimming in and out of focus. Every nerve in his body screamed, and the unfamiliar weight of the freezing mountain air stung his throat. His chest heaved as he struggled to push himself up from the jagged rocks beneath him.

This wasn't the city where he'd last closed his eyes.

The sky above him was streaked with hues of red and orange, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, casting long shadows across the rugged landscape. Jagged peaks pierced the heavens like ancient sentinels, towering over the world. Beneath them, valleys and ridges twisted through the land, all covered in a dull, ashen palette of stone and snow.

For a moment, Faisal thought he was dreaming. How had he ended up here?

One second, he had been at his desk, reviewing some coding work late into the night. The next, he was sprawled out in the middle of nowhere, like some cosmic joke. He sat up slowly, clutching his temples as a wave of nausea hit him.

"This… this can't be real," he muttered to himself, his voice raspy.

The air smelled of earth and pine, sharper than anything he'd ever encountered. No city smog. No background hum of electricity. Only the distant howl of the wind and a few echoing bird calls from somewhere within the wilderness.

Shivering, Faisal looked down at himself. His clothes—torn, modern fabric, clashed with the primitive surroundings. He pulled his thin jacket tighter, the chill of the morning air biting into his skin. He had no phone, no GPS, no way to contact anyone. His modern world, the comforts of technology he had taken for granted, had vanished in an instant.

As he rose shakily to his feet, the disorientation struck again. "Where… am I?"

His gaze swept over the vast expanse before him. Mountains. Nothing but mountains as far as the eye could see. Steep slopes led down into shadowy valleys, and here and there, he saw plumes of smoke rising. Settlements? People? He had to find out.

Just as he took his first step, a voice echoed in his mind.

[SYSTEM ACTIVATING.]

Faisal froze. "What the—?"

Before he could react, a wave of information flooded his brain. It wasn't just an ordinary voice—it felt mechanical, cold, and omnipresent, as though it wasn't part of his consciousness but something external, invading his mind. Words, diagrams, and strange symbols flashed before his eyes, too fast to comprehend.

[Welcome, User. You have been integrated with the "Technology System." Your current mission: Lead, Conquer, and Progress. Failure to do so will result in termination.]

"What?! Termination?!" Faisal's pulse quickened, panic seizing him. "What does that even mean?"

But there was no answer—just the stark, empty silence in the back of his mind.

For a moment, his vision blurred as data continued to stream in—blueprints of early industrial tools, firearms, steam engines, even agricultural implements. It was as though an entire library of technological knowledge had been uploaded into his consciousness.

The implications were staggering. If this was real—if this "system" was real—then Faisal now held the keys to technology that was far beyond this world's reach. But where exactly was he? And when?

He needed to find people. Fast.

The sound of hooves.

Suddenly, Faisal's ears picked up the dull thud of horses moving across the rocky terrain. A group of riders appeared from around a nearby cliff, descending from the high ground. There were five or six of them, dressed in rough, old-fashioned garb, their clothes mismatched, some wearing tattered robes, others leather armor. They carried spears, swords, and what looked like crude muskets strapped to their backs.

Bandits, Faisal realized with a start. And they were heading his way.

Instinct kicked in. Run.

He bolted down the slope, his feet slipping over the loose stones, barely keeping his balance as he scrambled for cover. His breath came in ragged gasps, heart pounding as the rough terrain shredded his shoes. The riders' voices echoed behind him, barking orders in a language he couldn't fully understand but recognized as Pashto, one of the languages spoken in Afghanistan.

Afghanistan? His mind raced. He had somehow ended up in 18th-century Afghanistan.

The world was chaotic here—a land of warlords, tribal conflict, and foreign interference from expanding empires. And he was alone, defenseless, and in immediate danger.

The bandits' laughter grew louder as they closed the distance, their horses faster than his clumsy escape. Faisal darted behind a large boulder, crouching low, sweat pouring down his face despite the cold. He needed a plan.

His system buzzed to life again, this time more intrusive, more urgent.

[New Mission: Survive. Time limit: 30 minutes.]

"Not helping!" Faisal muttered through gritted teeth, trying to catch his breath.

But then something else appeared before his eyes—an interface, hovering in his vision like a hologram. It was translucent, barely noticeable, but filled with icons and text. One icon flashed: 'Basic Tools'.

With nothing to lose, Faisal focused on the icon. The interface expanded, showing a list of crude weapons—knives, bows, a single pistol.

A pistol. He seized the mental image of it, and suddenly, in his hands, there it was—a flintlock pistol, real and solid.

His mind reeled from the impossibility of it, but there was no time for questions.

The bandits were close. He could hear the horses' snorts, the creak of leather saddles, the low murmur of their speech. Taking a deep breath, Faisal peered around the boulder, aiming the pistol at the nearest rider.

Crack!

The flintlock discharged, the kick of the weapon almost knocking Faisal off his feet. Smoke curled in the cold air, and one of the bandits slumped from his saddle, the bullet striking true. Chaos erupted among the remaining riders.

Shouts echoed across the slope as the bandits scrambled to figure out what had happened. Faisal didn't wait. He reloaded the flintlock with shaky hands, his heart pounding in his ears, and aimed again. Another shot rang out, dropping a second rider.

The rest scattered, cursing and retreating, clearly not expecting resistance. The few remaining bandits galloped off into the distance, their figures shrinking as they disappeared beyond the mountains.

Faisal exhaled sharply, adrenaline coursing through him. His hands shook as he lowered the gun, sweat dampening his brow despite the cold. He had survived.

[Mission Complete. 10 System Points earned.]

The voice in his head was back, calm and indifferent, as though he hadn't just fought for his life.

Panting, Faisal dropped to his knees, overwhelmed by the events of the last hour. He had no idea what the "points" were for, no real understanding of how the system worked yet, but one thing was clear.

He wasn't in the 21st century anymore. And if he wanted to survive in this brutal, mountainous land, he needed to use the system to its fullest potential. This was his only chance to reshape his fate—and the fate of this ancient world.

For now, though, Faisal allowed himself a moment to breathe.

The sun had risen fully, casting a harsh, golden light over the mountain peaks. Somewhere below him lay villages, cities, and warlords fighting for control of the land. Somewhere far off, empires were scheming, their eyes set on this region.

And here he was—armed with the technology of the future, but with a long, perilous journey ahead.

End of Chapter 1