[Welcome to the land of Vivian, Participant.]

  The screen hovers. Pulses. Waits.

  I’m not the only one seeing this. I catch the way people stiffen, their eyes darting to empty space. Some mumble under their breath. Some just stand there, frozen.

  So it’s real. Fantastic.

  I focus. First, the accident—barely got out of that alive. Now this. Whatever this is.

  I reach out. My fingers go straight through. No resistance. The screen flickers, like it felt that.

  Hologram? Projection? Some kind of high-tech bullshit?

  Doesn’t matter. I read it.

  First thought: Who the hell is Vivian?

  Second: Why the hell am I in her land?

  Wait. This whole place belongs to her? That is worse. What is she, a mayor? A queen? A cult leader?

  Third: Participant? Participant in what? I didn’t sign up for anything. No contracts, no fine print, no “click here to continue” button I blindly tapped.

  I blink. Rub my temples. Nope. Still there.

  I sigh. “No, sir—ma’am—whatever the hell you are, this is not right.”

  The screen flickers. Words shift.

  [Acknowledged.]

  Really? Just like that?

  Then—

  [Request Received. Deactivating Participation…]

  I stare at it. That’s it? No argument? No hoops to jump through? Didn’t expect it to be this easy.

  Oh well. Not my problem.

  “Thanks,” I say, brushing off my hands. That’s one headache down. Now for the rest—

  The screen pulses.

  [Error.]

  Oh, for—

  [Deactivation Denied.]

  “Of course!”

  [Request Override. Participation Lock Engaged.]

  [Welcome, Participant.]

  I exhale sharply through my nose. “Yeah, see, I just said I didn’t sign up for this.”

  The screen doesn’t care. It just vanishes.

  I stare at the empty air where it used to be.

  Right. Okay. No clue what the hell is going on. But that’s nothing new.

  Think. Focus.

  This whole day has been like this—one surreal, bullshit event after another. But panicking won’t help. Never does.

  I’ve got a brain. I know how to use it.

  Time to start.

  I fold my hands and get to thinking.

  So. I was on the bus. Bus was on the road. Road was in the city. A city full of humans.

  Then—an accident. A steep fall. White light.

  And… now I’m in the land of Vivian? In the middle of a forest.

  Yeah, no. That’s not how it works.

  If the bus fell off a bridge, I should be drowning. If it crashed into a building, there should be fire trucks and people yanking me out of the wreckage.

  Not this.

  Not standing in some place that feels nothing like the city. No sirens. No debris. Just me, some other confused people, and a floating screen that doesn’t take no for an answer.

  Which means whatever happened wasn’t just an accident.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Then what the hell was it?” I mutter.

  “Bruh,” some loud-mouth college kid shouts, waving his hands like he just discovered fire. He points at the scenery like it explains itself. “It’s like we teleported! It’s a different world, bro!”

  A guy in business suit grits his teeth. “Different world? Come on. That can’t be right. We were on a bus five minutes ago.”

  “Then how do you explain that?” a woman snaps, jabbing a finger at the empty air where the screen had been.

  “Yeah! How?” the college kid claps back. “This is isekai, dude. I am telling you…”

  I stare at him. Eyes twitching.

  He has to know how stupid that sounds.

  Teleportation? Isekai? Different world? That’s fantasy crap. Novels, manhwa, anime. Not real life.

  Real life is one kick in the gut after another. No magic portals. No grand adventures. Just survival.

  And right now? Surviving means figuring out what the hell just happened.

  Think, Nate. Think.

  Experiment? Simulation?

  Sounds like sci-fi nonsense, but with the kind of tech floating around these days—and the obscene amount of money some tech bros have to burn—it’s not impossible.

  So they crashed the bus. Put everyone into a coma. Hooked our brains up to some high-end VR nightmare. Running an experiment on us while we drool in a hospital bed somewhere?

  Which would mean—this is a dream?

  But if it’s a dream, how did I read the words on the screen?

  Dream logic is messy. Inconsistent.

  But this? The air, the soil, the noise around me—it's all too solid. Too real.

  And then there’s the pain. The headache I had when I woke up—gone now, but it was there. Real.

  Too many details. Too much clarity.

  This isn’t some brain-induced illusion.

  This is real.

  Well, shit. One dead-end after another.

  I’m going nowhere like this.

  “Bruh!” Loud-mouth screams again. “You seeing this? This screen! It’s like a System! The one that comes before a Tutorial! It’s like a bloody game. There’ll be quests, rewards. I’m telling you!”

  System. Quests. Tutorial. Bloody game.

  I want to slap that moron. Hard.

  But. Sigh.

  Let’s assume he’s right. That somehow, I did teleport. That this is another world—land of Vivian.

  Now the real question is: what the hell does that mean for me?

  The screen flickers, almost like it’s been waiting for me to ask.

  [Survive.]

  Right then, the ground rumbles. Hard. Like an earthquake just woke up pissed off. My footing wobbles, and I barely stay upright.

  Shouts break out around me. People stumble. Someone hits the dirt with a grunt.

  Then, from the valley below—

  It rises.

  A tower? No. Not a tower. A monolith of pure blackness, tearing its way up from the depths. The air ripples around it, like the world is struggling to contain something that shouldn’t be.

  It climbs, higher, higher—unstoppable, endless—until it slams to a stop.

  For a moment, there’s silence.

  The sun hangs behind it, a halo of gold against a void so dark it looks hungry.

  Then—movement.

  Something shifts at the peak. A shape, barely visible against the black. The sun catches on it—refracting, bending—until the light itself is redirected.

  Straight at us.

  A beam of golden radiance pierces down, hitting me square in the chest. The others too—bathed in it.

  A spotlight.

  A target.

  [24 Participants Registered for the Trial.]

  [Floor 1 Initiated.]

  [Designation: The Domain of the Fallen Primarch]

  [Status: Tower Enacted.]

  [Status: Guardian Awakened.]

  The ground lurches again, the tremor snaking up my legs.

  That… that wasn’t ominous. Nope. Definitely not.

  Then more text.

  [Main Quest Awarded.]

  [Trial of the First Ascent]

  Goal: Survive.

  Duration: 30 Days.

  Objective: Defeat the Guardian.

  Reward: Entrance to the Next Floor.

  Failure Consequence: Total Termination.

  I read it twice. Then a third time, just to make sure my brain isn’t short-circuiting.

  Nope. Still there.

  I exhale. “Yeah, okay,” I say, voice flat. “That’s some bullshit.”

  A tower. A Guardian. A trial.

  What is this? Some kind of fantasy game with magic and dragons?

  And then there’s that little line tucked in there—Total Termination.

  You can’t just terminate someone like that.

  Wait. No. You can. But in a job. Not out of life.

  Fuck this shit.

  I scan the others. Some are panicking. Others are arguing. A few just stand there, frozen, like their brains refuse to boot up.

  Loud-mouth? He looks like he just won the damn lottery.

  Me? I refuse to believe I’m in a fantasy world.

  Because if I do—if I accept this is real—then I have to accept what comes next.

  And I really, really don’t want to.

  [Side-Quest Awarded.]

  Goal: Survive

  Duration: 24 Hours

  Objective: Kill 5 Monsters

  Reward: System Activation & Awakening

  Failure Consequence: No System Activation & No Awakening

  I stare at the words, my brain buffering.

  System Activation—No idea.

  Awakening—Nope.

  Kill 5 Monsters—What monsters? Where are they? How do they look?

  Survive—Okay, but from WHAT? MONSTERS?

  As if to answer, the wind shifts.

  Not a breeze. Not a gust. A wall of air slamming into us, kicking up dust, whipping at my clothes.

  The temperature drops. The sky darkens for half a second—like something just moved in front of the sun.

  Then—sound.

  A shriek. Piercing. Grating.

  Then another. And another.

  Echoing. Surrounding. Closing in.

  I grit my teeth and whirl around, my gut already bracing for the worst.

  And behind the tower—they appear.

  At first, they look small. Distant. Like a flock of oversized birds riding the wind.

  Then they get closer.

  Too close.

  And they’re big.

  No, not big—massive.

  Semi-truck sized eagles, their wings wide enough to blot out the sky. Their beaks gleam like iron, sharp and hooked. Their talons—metal, long and wicked, built to cut.

  They don’t fly like animals. They fly like… Monsters.

  And they’re rushing straight for us.

  “Look, the eagles are here!” screams the college brat, like it’s some kind of grand revelation.

  I scream louder. “RUN! INTO THE TREES!”

  Already halfway covered, feet pounding against the dirt.

  Behind me? Chaos.

  The shrieking gets louder. Closer. A gust of wind slams into my back as something massive swoops down. A shadow flashes over the ground. Someone behind me screams.

  Not stopping. Not looking.

  Survive.

  That’s the only thing that matters.