1. The forest of Mehr

A lush green forest.

A man opened his eyes, staring up at the sky. His breath was slow, steady, until it wasn't.

His chest heaved, and he shot upright, gasping like he had just crawled out of drowning waters.

The last thing he remembered were glaring lights. The blinding white of headlights cutting through the night.

A truck.

His hand instinctively flew to his head. The memory echoed in his mind, foggy but undeniable. He had died.

That much, he was sure of.

So where the hell was he?

He staggered to his feet. All around him were trees. Endless trees. Towering, untouched by civilization. This wasn't right. There weren't forests like this near his home, just highways, amusement parks, and cheap hotels built over whatever greenery had existed before.

His fingers twitched. Something was here. Floating through the air. He could almost see it, faint flickers of purple, mixing with the air itself. He squinted, trying to focus, but the glow faded just as quickly as it appeared.

Must've gotten CTE.

Regardless, he needed to get home. He had work tomorrow.

...Wait.

His steps slowed. It was morning. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, golden and warm.

He was already late.

Shit.

He started running, feet slamming against the forest floor. For a second, he felt light. Like he was gliding. Like the years of back pain, leg cramps, and exhaustion had been wiped clean.

But no matter how far he ran.

No roads.

No houses.

Not even the distant honking of cars.

Nothing.

His pace slowed. The purple light came again. This time, it moved.

It flew through the air like a whisper, forming a faint, glowing trail.

His gut told him to ignore it, to keep moving, keep searching for a way out.

But something deeper—something instinctual—told him to follow.

His legs carried him forward. Leaves crunched underfoot. Branches snapped against his arms. The glow grew brighter, leading him through the dense underbrush until—

It stopped.

Just short of a small clearing in the forest, surrounded by enclosing trees.

A squeak.

Then—

A snarl.

His breath hitched. He stepped back, eyes darting between the trees. Something was there. Watching him.

He could barely see it, just a dark blur in the canopy. His pulse quickened as he tried to focus, to make out what it was.

Cold metal slid into his flesh.

A sharp piercing pain ran through his body.

His gaze dropped.

A goblin.

Small, hunched, its greenish skin blending into the scenery. Beady eyes locked onto him with hunger.

He fell to one knee. The goblin yanked its dagger free, blood dripping from its tip.

Then, with a violent snarl, it raised the blade again.

He wanted to move, he wanted to run. But he was too weak. Too scared.

His legs buckled.

His knees trembled, refusing to move.

The goblin closed in.

Two more dropped from the trees, landing with quiet thuds. One gripped a rusted axe, the other an iron hammer. Their lower canines protruding past their lips. Demonic imps. That's what they looked like. That's what they acted like.

Was this it?

The second goblin swung.

The axe's edge buried into his skull.

Blood splattered against the dirt as his body collapsed. His vision swam, soaked in red.

And then, he saw it.

A man at a desk.

Cole Sinclair.

Fingers hammering away at a keyboard. Day in, day out. Getting screamed at by his boss. Swallowed by overtime, leaving work at midnight only to drag himself back three hours later.

Then one night, walking home, eyes sagging with exhaustion.

Blinding lights.

A truck.

Then darkness.

Death.

It happened. He died. That much was certain.

And now, he was here, but this wasn't Earth. Goblins didn't exist back home. This was somewhere else. Something else.

And now, he was about to die again.

A broken laugh echoed through the forest.

The goblins hesitated, their heads tilting. Their wide grins faded, replaced by something almost like... confusion.

Why was he laughing?

Hell, he didn't even know. Nothing was funny.

And yet, he laughed.

The third goblin approached, it's hammer swung. Rushing toward his skull.

He moved.

His arm shot up, fingers snapping around the handle. The impact rattled his bones, but he held firm. The goblin snarled, yanking back, but his grip was iron.

With a growl, he ripped the weapon free.

And then he swung.

The hammer slammed into the goblin's head. Bone crunched. The creature flew backward, its body cracking against a tree. Blood streaking down the wood.

[Level up]

The two remaining goblins backed away, their weapons still raised, but their hands shook. Their eyes flicked between their fallen comrade and the man who should've been dead.

He rose.

One hand clutched his side, pressing against the wound where their blade had stabbed him. Warm blood trickled between his fingers. His breaths came in short bursts, his body aching, screaming at him to stop.

But he didn't.

This was a new world.

A new life.

And he'd be damned if he let them take it away from him so easily.

He moved.

His foot slammed into the ground, muscles tensing as his arm swung back. His fingers clenched around the hammer's handle and then he threw it.

The weapon spun through the air.

Crack.

The hammers edge slammed into the first goblin's head. Bone snapped. The creature's body twitched, before its head rolled clean off.

[Level up]

He turned.

The last goblin fell to its knees. Its weapon clattered to the dirt as it crawled backward, one trembling arm raised in defeat. Its mouth moved, forming words, pleas.

He couldn't understand them.

And even if he did, he wouldn't have cared.

His gaze fell to the bloodstained axe lying beside the first goblin's corpse. He picked it up, walking forward.

The last goblin screamed.

Backing away quicker until it's back slammed against a tree, just inches away from the mushy remains of another goblin.

He wasn't thinking, all he was trying to do was survive, his arm raised, axe still within and then with brutal force, it came down, again, and again, and again.

Until the creatures wails turned to silence

Until its green flesh turned blood-red.

[Level up]

[Enemies Slain - 3]

[Items Gained: Medium Vitality Blood Vial x2, Thick Goblin Hide (Craft Material)]

A screen appeared before him, floating in the air. Text flickered, shifting against the purple glow that now seemed clearer, more vibrant.

[Use one blood vial?]

His breath hitched.

He wasn't a murderer. He'd only killed in self-defense. And yet— was this guilt?

Was he already losing his mind?

[System Notice: Vitals are low.]

[System Advice: Use one blood vial.]

He exhaled. His eyes lingered on the glowing words.

"...Use one blood vial."

[Medium Vitality Blood Vial Used.]

Warmth surged through his body.

The pain in his side faded. The deep stab wound knit itself shut. The ache in his skull, the blurred vision cleared.

The world sharpened.

And as he looked at the floating text again.

He finally saw its true color.

Purple.

His fingers brushed against the glowing words. "Was this... that purple light?"

[System interface activated]

STATUS.

[Name: ?????]

[Age: 18]

[Level: 3]

[Race: Human, (?)]

[HP: 100/100]

[MP: 100/100]

[Strength: 10]

[Endurance: 5]

[Agility: 15]

[Intelligence: 3]

[Skills: None]

[Equipment: Base twin daggers(Lv1)]

[Materials: Thick goblin hide (Craft material), Medium vitality blood vial.]

He stared at the floating text. He read through it once. Twice.

His breathing steadied. His hands no longer shook.

He was fine.

As fine as someone who had just been stabbed, killed three goblins, and healed via a floating purple screen could be.

"...Base twin daggers?" he muttered.

The moment the words left his mouth, something shifted in the air, a ripple, like ink spreading through water.

Then, just as fast, two daggers materialized in his hands.

Their weight settled into his grip like they belonged there, their polished blades gleaming against the orange hues.

"This is unreal," he murmured, running a thumb along the cool steel.

"Thank you."

His body reacted before his mind could.

He spun, twin daggers raised without hesitation. The movement felt natural—too natural.

A girl flinched back, pressing herself against the trees.

She was small, barely reaching his chest, her frame frail and trembling. Her tattered brown dress was stained red. Blood—her blood.

His grip on the daggers loosened.

Had the goblins been after her? Was that why the purple light had led him here?

Slowly, he lowered his weapons and knelt, extending a hand. "I'm sorry."

The girl hesitated, then inched closer.

At first glance, she looked human. But as she neared, her eyes were pitch black. No whites. No pupils. Just a deep, endless void.

And curling around her back, eight spider-like arms, thin and delicate, twitching slightly as if sensing him.

"You saved me," she whispered, staring at him. "Thank you so much."

He swallowed. There was so much he didn't know. About this world. About the creatures that lived in it. If he wanted answers, he needed to start somewhere.

He forced a small smile. "No problem," he muttered. "But... can I ask you a few things?"

She tilted her head, considering his words before giving a small nod.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Okay," he began, before shaking his head. That wasn't the right place to start.

"...What's your name?"

The girl blinked. Then, with a small, almost cautious voice. "I am Cela."

Cela.

A simple name. But it fit her.

He opened his mouth to introduce himself—only to hesitate.

His name was Cole Sinclair.

That was a fact.

But that name didn't belong here. That person didn't belong here.

He had been given a new start. A new life.

And he wasn't going to waste it.

"I'm..." he thought for a moment, then spoke.

"Sirius."

[Name added: Sirius]

Cela blinked at him, her many arms twitching slightly. "Sirius?" she repeated. "That's a weird name."

He chuckled. "You're one to talk."

Cela huffed, crossing her arms, or at least, two of them. The others remained still.

Sirius shook his head, getting back on track. "Where are we, Cela?" he asked. "What exactly is this place?"

Cela tilted her head again, this time in genuine confusion.

"This is the Great Forest of Mehr," she said simply.

Her black eyes locked onto his.

"The home of all demi-humans."

Demi-humans?

Like the goblins?

"Are there any humans here?" Sirius asked.

Cela shook her head.

Not surprising. If this was a land of demi-humans like her, it made sense that humans wouldn't have a foothold here. Still, it at least confirmed that people like him existed somewhere. He just had to find them.

That was the plan.

Sirius stood, stretching. He had gotten what he needed—some idea of where he was and confirmation that this wasn't just some super realistic dream. Now, he just had to keep moving. Find civilization. Figure out what the hell was going on.

Then he turned back.

Cela was watching him. And now that he really looked at her, he noticed blood dripping against the ground.

"Crap, you're hurt." He knelt down, hesitating. "Uh... system? Give me the potion thingy."

A red vial materialized in his hand. He blinked at it, still getting used to this whole floating text and magic items from nowhere thing, before handing it to Cela.

She took it hesitantly, eyeing it with cautious curiosity before drinking.

Just like it had for him, the potion worked instantly. Wounds closed. Blood dried.

Sirius let out a breath. That was good. That meant she could at least make it back home safely.

Except—

"Where's your home?" He asked.

"I can't go back," Cela murmured, her gaze dropping to the forest floor.

Sirius frowned. "Why?"

"My mother sent me away... to survive."

"Survive what?"

Cela clenched her fists. "Our clan has a new leader. My father was slain, and his position was taken by Horst, the new Spider King. He's a tyrant. He kills the males of our clan without mercy, and he doesn't care what happens to the women either."

That... sounded bad.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair. If there were other demi-human species in the area, all ruled by their own kings, it probably wasn't a great idea to get involved in their politics. Especially when he was still trying to figure out where the hell he even was.

"I want to save my people," Cela said. "But I have no power and I can't do it alone. But you—"

"Nope," Sirius cut in.

Cela flinched.

His priority was survival. Getting stronger, learning the rules of this world, finding humans. Those goblins had nearly ended him. He wasn't about to throw himself into something worse.

It wasn't worth the risk.

"But the way you handled those goblins," Cela pressed. "You are strong!"

Sirius exhaled. "Look, I... I can't, okay?" Something rose in his gut, but he shoved it down. This was the smart thing to do, playing it safe. That's what he'd always done.

That's what had kept him alive.

Ding.

[Secret Quest Unlocked: Kill the Spider King, Horst.]

[Time Limit: 20 minutes.]

[Penalty: Death.]

Sirius froze.

The text flickered in the air before vanishing, but the meaning lingered.

A familiar purple glow began weaving through the trees, moving ahead, guiding him.

He was being forced to do this.

And yet.

He swallowed.

Wasn't this what he wanted?

Back in his old world, he'd thought about leaving. Thought about quitting his job, doing something that actually meant something.

But he never had the luxury. Never had the guts.

He played it safe because it was the right thing to do.

But this wasn't the old world.

And he wasn't the same person anymore.

"I guess I'll have some use for these things after all."

Cela's eyes widened, black and endless. "You'll help us?" she whispered.

Sirius exhaled, his grip tightening on the daggers.

He didn't have a choice.

But even if the system hadn't forced his hand, some part of him—a deep, hidden part he had long ignored—was... excited.

This was real.

For the first time in his life, he wasn't trapped behind a desk, grinding away in a cycle of exhaustion and misery. He was here. In a new world. And though the risk of death loomed over him like a blade.

He wasn't about to let himself rot away playing it safe.

The thought was terrifying. And exhilarating.

Sirius rolled his shoulders, his half-smile sharpening into something more confident.

"I guess I am," he said.

Cela let out a small breath, unspoken relief flickering across her face.

Sirius glanced at the purple light weaving through the trees. He had twenty minutes.

"Alright," he said, turning to her. "Tell me everything you know about Horst. If I'm going to kill the Spider King—" He exhaled sharply, grinning despite slightly shaking with fear.

"—then I should probably know what I'm getting into."

"Okay," Cela said.

—————

A massive cave stood ahead, its entrance easily four times his height. The purple light had already drifted inside, disappearing into the darkness. That meant this was it, the place where the enemy waited.

Even if he hadn't been following the light... even if he hadn't believed Cela's words...

He would have known.

The sheer presence of whatever lurked within pressed against him like a giant arm. A cruel, oppressive aura crashed into his body, and Sirius collapsed to his knees, coughing violently against the stone floor.

Cela bent beside him, hand over his back.

His instincts screamed.

Run.

Turn around. Abandon this. Forget about the quest. Forget about Cela. Forget about everything except saving himself.

But he couldn't.

Even if he ran, even if he turned his back on this... the result would be the same. The system had made that clear.

He had no way out.

Only forward.

Sirius clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stand.

"I hate this," he muttered, stepping into the cave's giant entrance.

Another step.

"I hate how much I like this."

Cela stayed behind, watching as he disappeared, darkness swallowing him whole. "Please, save them..." she whispered.

A faint light appeared in the distance, filtering through the darkness of the cave. It wasn't much, just a crack in the stone where sunlight barely seeped in, but it was enough to reveal what lay ahead.

Sirius kept moving, though it wasn't the light that guided him anymore.

It was the presence.

A crushing, suffocating aura radiated from deep within the cavern, thick as tar, stabbing against his skin like nails. The Spider King was near.

Sirius stepped into the illuminated chamber, his grip tightening around his blades.

His breathing came in sharp, uneven bursts as he locked eyes with the spider king, sat on a giant throne, its six void-like eyes fixated entirely on him.

To the side, shadowed figures knelt in silent reverence. Spiderfolk. They didn't move, didn't even glance his way, their loyalty unquestioning, or maybe their fear.

A notification flickered across his vision.

[Spider King, Horst]

[System Advice: Do not engage.]

[Mission Timer: 12:00]

Sirius exhaled sharply, irritation spiking through him.

"Make up your goddamn mind."

Because standing before him now, slowly rising from the stonewall throne—was Horst, the tyrant of the forest.

Twelve feet of monstrous muscle and bone, silver hair flowing past his shoulders, a dozen spindly, razor-tipped spider limbs unfurling from his back.

When he spoke. It wasn't just sound, it was pressure, shaking the very air.

"What is a human doing in Mehr?"

Sirius steadied his stance, rolling his shoulders.

He felt like throwing up, and then running, or maybe both. But he was already past that, slowly, he tightened his grip on the daggers.

They felt good. Almost too good. Like they were an extension of himself. Just like when he'd used the goblin's weapons. Was the system making it this way?

It didn't matter, because he was here for one reason.

"I'm here to kill you,"

But Horst didn't react, the spider kings arm merely raised.

And all Sirius could do was watch, as blood trickled down his chest, splashing against the ground like a waterfall.

The world titled.

Fading to black.

Once again.