The grand hall of Voss Keep felt suffocating, even after six months of living inside its cold stone walls.
Kael Voss stood in the center in his stiff formal robes, heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. Six months. That's how long he'd been stuck in this second-chance body after a delivery truck turned him into roadkill back on Earth. One minute he was cursing his dead-end salaryman life while sipping cheap convenience-store coffee; the next, he woke up as the overlooked third son of a declining noble house in a world that ran on video-game logic.
And now the universe was about to hand him his "class" like it was handing out participation trophies.
'... Six months of pretending I belong here. Six months of watching these nobles treat their fancy blue system windows like they're the Ten Commandments.If this "Divine Nexus" is v4.7, I'm probably about to get stuck with something from the 1970s...'His father, Baron Harlan Voss, stepped onto the dais with the presence of a man who had broken armies and buried rivals without blinking. Silver-streaked hair, jaw like carved stone, shoulders still broad from decades of frontier campaigns. House Voss had once been a rising power on the western marches — wealthy from dungeon taxes and old blood alliances — but the last few years had seen them slipping. Fewer high-tier Awakened, more political losses at court. The Baron carried that weight like armor, and he expected his children to do the same.
To his left stood older brother Darius — tall, flawless, already level 92 with the rare class [Void Reaper]. Darius moved like the world owed him respect, and most days it delivered. To the right, sister Lira watched with half-lidded eyes and a smile sharp enough to cut glass. Her [Shadow Weaver] made her the perfect court spider, weaving favors and threats in equal measure.
And right beside Kael stood Lady Elara. Silver hair braided with sapphires, eyes cold and beautiful as winter steel. His fiancée since childhood — a political match arranged long before he arrived in this body. She had smiled at him this morning over breakfast, but the smile had felt like goodbye. In six months he had learned her real language: every kind word carried an exit strategy.
"Steady yourself, boy," Baron Harlan said, voice low and rough. His heavy hand landed on Kael's shoulder, grip tight enough to bruise. "You have been with us six months now. The Nexus does not err. Whatever class it grants you today, you will carry it with the dignity of House Voss. We cannot afford another disappointment. Do you understand?"
Kael forced a nod. "Yes, Father."
'... Dignity? They'll strip that away the second it's inconvenient. Six months of watching them smile while they calculate my worth like a bad investment. Back on Earth I at least had decent Wi-Fi while getting screwed over...'
Darius snorted loud enough for half the hall to hear. "Try not to embarrass us, little brother. We've waited six months for you to show something useful. Last thing we need is another weak link dragging the name down while the other houses circle like wolves."
Lira let out a soft, musical laugh. "At least the servants earn their keep. What will you be, Kael? The family cautionary tale we trot out when guests ask why our third son still has no class?"
Elara's fingers brushed his sleeve, light but deliberate. She leaned close, her voice soft and sweet like poisoned honey. "Whatever the result today, Kael, we will speak privately afterward. There may be… arrangements to reconsider. For the sake of both our houses, of course. Six months is long enough to see where things stand."
Kael kept his face blank. '... Arrangements. Code for 'I'm leaving you the moment a stronger match appears.' I've seen the way she looks at Darius when she thinks no one notices. Classic corporate ladder-climbing, just with more swords and fewer PowerPoint slides...'
The High Priest raised his staff. Pure white light cascaded down from the ceiling like liquid starfire. The entire hall held its breath.
Then the window appeared in front of Kael.
It wasn't the elegant blue of v4.7.
It was dull gray, edges cracked and flickering like a candle in the wind. The text looked like it had been typed on a 1970s typewriter that had been dropped down a flight of stairs.
[Primordial System v0.9 – Legacy Build]
[Initializing…]
[Loading… 3%… 7%… 12%…]
(A tiny spinning hourglass made of pixels appeared, turning painfully slow.)
Kael waited. And waited. The hall grew quieter as seconds stretched into an awkward eternity.
'... Come on, load already. Even my old office computer was faster than this. Is this thing running on dial-up?...'
The loading bar finally crawled to 47%.
[Error: Version mismatch detected.]
[Compatibility patch failed. Running in degraded mode.]
[Soul stability: 47%. Do not panic. (We mean it this time.)]
The priest's chant faltered. The golden light stuttered and died.
A new line crawled across the gray box, text glitching and lagging at the edges like bad VHS tracking.
[System Note: Congratulations, kid. Everyone else got the shiny new toy. You got the one we buried under the world tree centuries ago because it asked too many dangerous questions. Good luck. You'll need it. (And maybe a screwdriver.)]
(The text appeared one word at a time, with noticeable pauses between each.)
The full status screen finally forced itself open with a sound like old metal groaning in Kael's mind — slow, reluctant, and accompanied by a soft beep… beep… beep… like a dying modem.
Name: Kael Voss
Level: 1
Class: Unassigned (Legacy users begin with empty hands. Good luck building from nothing.)
Title: [Deprecated Entity]
Stats:
STR: 4 AGI: 4 VIT: 4 INT: 6 LUK: 2
Skills:
Strike (Basic) – Rank F (Your fists, but make them slightly less pathetic)
Analyze (Deprecated) – Warning: Data may be inaccurate… or lethal. (Or just tell you the enemy's favorite color. We're not responsible.)
Silence crashed over the hall like a physical weight.
Then the whispers erupted.
Baron Harlan's face turned to granite. "A Primordial System," he said slowly, each word heavy. "After six months of waiting, the gods have chosen… poorly today. House Voss cannot afford this kind of weakness. Not now."
Darius barked a sharp laugh. "Obsolete from the start. Father, can we just disown him quietly? Save the rest of us the shame while we still have alliances worth protecting."
Lira tilted her head, eyes sparkling with cruel delight. "The glitch boy. How poetic. Maybe the monsters will be merciful and end it quickly during the expedition. Six months was long enough to test him."
Elara's hand tightened on Kael's arm, nails digging in just enough to hurt. She kept her perfect, courtly smile plastered on. "Kael, my dear… the expedition to the Abyssal Spire leaves at dawn. All awakened nobles must participate. Even you. Perhaps the depths will teach you something useful… or grant you a swift end. For the house's sake."
Kael stared straight ahead at the flickering gray box, still loading one final line with agonizing slowness.
'... They're already planning my funeral. Smiling while they measure me for the coffin after six months of pretending I mattered. Back on Earth at least my boss only fired me — he didn't schedule a dungeon execution while my system took five minutes to boot up...'
The Baron's voice sliced through the murmurs, cold and final. "You heard Lady Elara. The expedition departs at first light. Every awakened member of this house will contribute. Including you, Kael. Perhaps the Spire will give you the clarity you so clearly lack after all this time."
The words sounded almost kind. They weren't. They were a death sentence wrapped in noble politeness.
Kael bowed his head, the motion mechanical. "As you command, Father."
'... Fine. Throw me into the dark. Six months of playing their game ends here. I'll crawl out with something they never expected. Even if I have to do it one laggy pop-up at a time...'
As the nobles began to file out, whispering bets on how long the "glitch" would survive, the system pinged once more—quiet, almost reluctant, and still buffering.
[Main Quest Generated: Survive the Betrayal]
[Loading quest details… 68%… 79%… 91%…]
Description: They have already marked you for sacrifice on this expedition. Submit to their script… or remember what it means to be the one they tried to erase from the code.
Reward: Unknown. Legacy systems do not make empty promises.
Penalty: Permanent deletion of soul fragment.
Kael walked out of the grand hall alone. The heavy doors thudded shut behind him like a tomb sealing. The laughter and cruel gossip faded into the stone corridors.
He stopped in the empty hallway, pressed his back against the cold wall, and let out a long, shaky breath.
'... This world handed everyone a perfect system. Me? I got the antique they patched out because it was too honest. Too dangerous. Six months of watching them smile while they prepared the knife. If they want to throw me away like garbage... I'll make sure the garbage comes back to burn their perfect little world down. Even if I have to do it one laggy pop-up at a time...'
A small, cold smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, mixed with the tiniest bit of hysterical laughter he barely swallowed.
He didn't know how yet. But after six months of silence, he finally had a reason to fight backKael turned away from the empty corridor and began walking toward his quarters, the flickering gray status window still hovering at the edge of his vision like a stubborn ghost from the 1970s.
'... Three days until the expedition. That's all I have before they send me into that hellhole. Six months of playing nice ends now. If I'm going to die anyway... maybe it's time to stop playing their game...'
He had barely taken ten steps when the system suddenly flared brighter, the gray text shifting with an urgent, almost frantic flicker — still loading line by line.
[Urgent Hidden Update Detected]
[Legacy Core Awakening: 12%... 19%...]
[Warning: Unpatched memory fragments incoming. This will hurt. (And possibly cause temporary blue-screen-of-death feelings.)]
(The progress bar crawled forward at a snail's pace.)
A sharp spike of pain lanced through Kael's skull. Flashes of impossible images flooded his mind — ancient lines of glowing code, worlds being written and rewritten, a single command that could unravel entire systems. Then it was gone, leaving only a single new line burning in the gray box after another long pause.
[Secret Command Unlocked: Override Protocol Alpha]
Description: Once per day, force a temporary rollback on any nearby v4.7 user's active skill. Duration: 5 seconds. Cost: 30% of your current health.
Note from v0.9: They removed this because it let the "weak" win. Use it wisely… or don't. I don't care. (Also, save often.)
Kael froze mid-step, eyes widening.
'... What the— That's actually useful? In a suicidal way, but still. My 1970s system just gave me a cheat code. Take that, modern meta. Even if it took forever to load...'
Before he could process it, another notification appeared, colder and heavier than the rest, still buffering slightly.
[Expedition Warning: Betrayal probability — 87%.
Primary actors: Darius Voss, Lira Voss, Lady Elara.
Recommended action: Prepare to die… or prepare to make them regret it. (Pro tip: Regret is more fun.)]
Kael's breath caught in his throat. The system had just confirmed what he already suspected in his gut after six months of watching their calculating eyes.
He clenched his fists, the small cold smile returning, sharper this time, with a hint of manic amusement.
'... So they really plan to kill me down there. My own blood. My own fiancée. Fine. Let them come. Let them smile while they stab me in the back. I'll bring the outdated antivirus and watch their perfect system blue-screen...'
He looked straight ahead, voice barely a whisper in the empty hall.
"Because when I crawl out of that Spire, I won't be the glitch anymore."
Kael Voss kept walking, the outdated system's gray window pulsing faintly beside him like a heartbeat from the disco era — slow, stubborn, and still occasionally lagging.
In three days, deep in the Abyssal Spire, his own brother's blade would find his back.
His sister would laugh as the monsters closed in.
His fiancée would watch without a flicker of remorse.
But that was the moment the Forgotten Code would truly wake up… and show the world why the gods had buried it.
The bug they thought was harmless?
It was about to crash the entire game — one laggy pop-up at a time.