Pilot

It was just another Monday morning, The ocean crashed against the shore, its roar pounding in Michael's ears. Sunlight forced his eyes open as he trudged into the sparkling sea, still half-asleep and grumbling.

Lately, Michael had forced himself into a new routine—waking up early, wading into the cold waves, and letting the shock jolt him awake.

The water was crisp against his skin, cooler than he'd like, but refreshing enough to shake off the morning grogginess

Michael takes a deep breath and dives. The cool, salty water stings his skin, waking him instantly. For a moment, the world is quiet beneath the surface—until something shifts. A strange hum vibrates through the water, deep and distant. He shakes his head, surfacing quickly. Probably nothing.

Rising above the water, he glances towards his watch as he walks to the shore, on his way home. Adding a bit of a skip to his step as he sees the time.

The rare swim in the waves cooled Michael's Monday jitters before work. Salty water dripped down his legs as he breathed in deeply, his sinuses clearer than usual. The brisk ocean air felt invigorating, and even his usual morning grogginess seemed to fade.

Reaching his house just across the beach. Michael shakes his head in annoyance as he takes a bite of his apple, shoving discarded clothes scattered back into his kids bedroom, 

I'll deal with that when I get home, Michael sighs as he has a quick shower, ignoring the reminiscent ring of his left hand.

Getting out and wrapping a towel around himself, Michael wipes the steam off the mirror as he dries off his chubby frame—a body shaped by long hours of binge-watching, too many takeout meals, and one-too-many late-night beers. His kids always teased him about his 'dad bod,' poking at his belly with mischievous grins. 'Gotta keep up with us, Dad!' they'd laugh. But as he changed for work today, something caught his eye.

He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His stomach, his shoulders—something looked... different. Leaner, maybe? He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Probably just the morning swim working its magic, he thought with a small smile.

Walking down to his car, Michael wonders whether anything interesting was happening today. Maybe one of his customers may give him some food?

Three years in, and the job still felt the same. He'd started right out of high school, wiring homes and businesses, drilling, installing cables—nothing exciting, but not exactly boring either.

Michael's job wasn't exciting, but it wasn't dull either. Long hours in the sun gave him a mix of chatty customers and awkward silences. Some days were fun; others were just him, his tools, and his Bluetooth playlist.

The drive to work was mostly uneventful, aside from the occasional ping of notifications from coworkers interrupting his classic guitar playlist on Bluetooth. Most of the messages were the same—questions, requests for help, or complaints he wasn't in the mood to deal with.

Michael's mouth twitched, forming a frown. He felt different today and not in a bad way, more like his body was a bit more loose and less sore, the grogginess of last night's activities is gone…Weird.

Parking across the street, Michael ponders the beauty of this suburban high tech house, the street was filled with old fashioned simple houses creating a quaint feeling of simplicity.

But this house fits that stereotype of laid back outback look. It had sleek, high-tech cameras scanning back and forth, with tall black fences with bushes surrounding it, the house itself was beautifully made, it was a nice white tall wooden house with a second story and a pool out back.

Knocking on the door, he waited as even the wooden door was niche and expensive with dense wood and electric hinges moving the door automatically as the customer came into view.

The door swung open, revealing a tall, blond-haired kid barely out of high school. He didn't greet Michael—just leaned lazily against the frame, arms crossed, eyes flicking up and down like he was assessing something beneath him.

The boy seemed to have a natural talent for organizing, though he never looked Michael in the eye. He rattled off instructions with a casual arrogance, hands tucked into the pockets of his designer jeans

Clearly the boy thought he was above menial work, despite being so wet behind the ears.

As soon as the boy left, Michael got a proper look at the problem. No matter how much the kid claimed to know about his own house, Michael wasn't about to take his word over an expert's—especially when that expert was him.

The day was hotter than normal, a good thirty-eight Celsius, causing Michael to talk to the boy a couple times about getting water, no matter how annoying that kid's smug smile was, he needed to drink. 

Despite the rising heat, Michael found himself taking fewer breaks for water and rest. While maintaining the same intensity off when he started, as he completed a 6-hour job normally on a cool day in 4 hours, "God, I need those morning swims more often, I feel amazing after them" Michael mumbled quietly to himself, keeping note of it for later.

This boy was definitely not giving him any food. Michael grumbled, his hand reaching to pick up his tools and laptop.

Michael had always been an extroverted guy that enjoyed meeting new people, he was the type to never care about the group's opinion of him and disregard all but his own, causing him to always be this super independent person but that may also be the reason that he only has his few remaining school mates.

Yawning softly, Michael finishes up his paperwork as he calls for the customer to finish up for today. He grabs a sip off his drink bottle, before placing it down on the floor.

Michael frowned. The water in his bottle trembled—small, rhythmic ripples expanding outward. He pressed his palm against the ground. A faint hum vibrated beneath his skin. What the hell? Maybe a generator underground? He glanced towards the kid, but he didn't seem to notice

"Thank you, hope you have a great day to you sir" as Michael glared spitefully at the boy, only to receive a smug smile in return and a "Well, finally. I thought professionals were supposed to be quicker."

Michael grumbled, clenching his fists at the kid's arrogance. 'You're saying I'm lazy? Come here… you—' the words died in his throat.

His breath hitched. His vision blurred.

Darkness bled into the edges of his sight, curling and twisting like ink in water. Words flickered—jagged symbols, pulsing erratically, shifting as if they weren't meant to be read by human eyes. A sharp ringing filled his ears, almost deafening. His breath came in short gasps. This wasn't normal.

He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing them hard. Nothing changed. The glowing symbols pulsed—hovering in the air, seared into his mind.

A startled yelp snapped his focus. The spoiled brat staggered backward, wide-eyed and pale.

He sees it too. As the text floods his vision, seeming to writhe and shift as it finally became legible:

S#ST#M #NITI#ALIS#TI-ION *E#ROR

SYST#M INT##LIZATION *INSUFFICIENT MANA

*ERROR* FILING WORLD KNOWN AS EARTH-27 WITH MANA

INSUFFICIENT WORLD MASS

USING SURROUNDING PLANETS TO FACILITATE GROWTH

SENTIENT-SPECIES KNOWN AS HOMO-SAPIENS FOUND**

TUTORIAL WILL NOW BEGIN

Welcome to the System

"SURVIVE. NO MATTER THE COST"