Arthur dragged himself into class like a zombie that had been hit by a truck, revived, then hit again for good measure. His hair was messy, his eyes half-open, and he looked one cough away from collapsing. The nonstop noise in the classroom — chatter, laughter, chairs scraping — stabbed straight into his brain like someone was playing drums on his skull.
He dropped into his seat with a long groan.
God, he missed when life wasn't like this.
Back then, things were simple. He'd wake up to the smell of pancakes. His dad humming in the kitchen. His mom teasing him for sleeping with his mouth open. Evenings filled with cheap comedy shows, popcorn that always tasted slightly burnt, and stupid little inside jokes that no one else would understand. Days when he'd play football barefoot outside until the sky blushed orange, then wander home sweaty and smiling, knowing he would be welcomed with warmth.
It wasn't perfect, but it was peaceful. Warm. Soft around the edges.
Now?
Now life felt sharp. Noisy. Heavy.
Like the world had teeth and it enjoyed biting.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to focus as the teacher droned on. If he could sleep right now, he'd do it without hesitation — five minutes, two minutes, thirty seconds, he didn't care. Anything would be better than staying awake in this noise.
He opened his notebook, thinking maybe writing something would keep him awake.
And then —
A small, faint flicker above his desk.
Then a shine.
A window appeared. A real one. Glowing, floating. Not in his imagination. Not in his notes.
A digital panel in the air.
Arthur froze.
It read:
A simple window unfolded, showing four stats:
Intelligence: 4
Strength: 3
Charm: 2
Looks: 3
Other stats were locked, faded out like they were shy.
"Dude… how tired am I?" Arthur whispered under his breath.
Then the system added:
Arthur blinked. Hard. "What do u mean probably—"
Another window popped up.
Arthur stared.
"…My mental breakdown has a personality."
He breathed out a tiny laugh despite himself. "Wow. Rude."
Fine.
If he was going insane, at least it was entertaining insanity.
He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper.
Time to write the cringiest nonsense possible.
He closed his eyes for a second… then unleashed chaos:
"My destiny… my sacred path… my painfully burning dream that keeps me awake at night… is to enter a great college worthy of my name — Arthur Lindström, the soon-to-be legend of academic glory. I want to rise from mediocrity like a phoenix that forgot sunscreen.
And beyond all this? I dream of finding a girlfriend… no, a soulmate… someone so loving she sees through my flaws, my laziness, my caffeine addiction, and still holds my hand anyway. Someone who looks at me like I'm not a walking disappointment.
These goals shall be engraved upon my heart… etched into my spirit… tattooed on my soul… for now at least."
He stared at it.
"…I hate myself."
The bell rang. Arthur shoved his stuff into his bag and left with his cousin. He tossed the paper on the table like the mission asked.
And after a minute, someone walked back into the room.
Miyu.
She'd forgotten her water bottle, humming softly to herself as she walked toward her seat — but then she noticed the lone paper sitting on Arthur's desk.
"Huh? Did he forget something…?"
She picked it up casually.
Then she read the first line.
Her entire soul paused.
Her cheeks flushed pink so suddenly it felt like someone slapped color onto her face. She covered her mouth, eyes widening, then narrowing, then widening again like she couldn't decide if she should laugh, gasp, or faint.
"A-A-A girlfriend…? S-sees him…? Phoenix sunscreen— what is this…??"
She pressed a hand against her chest, feeling her heartbeat speed up.
Her face warmed.
Her ears burned.
It was so cringe.
So dramatic.
So stupid.
And yet…
She smiled. Soft. Gentle. Embarrassed.
"That idiot…" she whispered — but the word wasn't cold.
It sounded more like something fragile, something she didn't want anyone else to hear.
She read the whole page again, slower this time. A little breath escaped her lips without her meaning to.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she put the paper back exactly where she found it.
Then she walked out, clutching her water bottle, cheeks still pink, her mind replaying one specific line over and over:
"someone who sees me."
---
Arthur finally got home.
Threw his bag down.
Collapsed face-first on his pillow.
He was done.
Beyond done.
He remembered his old peaceful life, the one he missed so badly it hurt — and whispered into the empty room
And just as he drifted into sleep—
He opened a door.
A giant black door, cold and heavy.
Behind it: darkness.
Stretching endlessly.
But far away…
a tiny light.
Warm.
Hopeful.
He ran toward it.
Faster.
Harder.
The darkness pulling at his ankles like hands made of shadows.
He pushed forward anyway, reaching, reaching—
Just before he touched the light—
He woke up.
His arm was stretched toward the ceiling, fingers trembling.
"The same damn dream—"
And then the system chimed in:
Arthur stared at the window.
"…WHAT?!"
And that's how his first day with the system truly began.