I awoke in pain. Not the dull ache of a bruise, but a screaming, all-consuming kind of pain that made every nerve spark like firecrackers.

  Fluorescent lights burned above me. I turned away from the glare, just that small act feeling like a miracle. My last memory was being paralyzed from the neck down, blood pooling around me as those things tore into me.

  I was alive.

  “Just lie still. It’ll get better in a moment. You were almost dead. A few more minutes and I’d have been digging a hole instead.”

  The voice came from somewhere nearby. I tried to sit up, but pain slammed through me, forcing me prone again.

  “Who…” I croaked, my throat raw.

  “Holy shit, dude, just wait. You’ll be fine. Close your eyes. Let it pass.”

  I wanted to argue, but exhaustion dragged at me. My body felt strange, like it was broken yet repairing itself. I could feel muscles knitting, tendons tightening and blood flowing into once dead spaces. It was grotesque, like being awake during surgery without anesthetic.

  I smelled smoke and heard the crackle of a nearby fire. Not large, more like a campfire, but it sparked a memory of camping in Pulau Ubin, the offshore island I’d nearly burned down.

  We’d found a huge log infested with ants. My bright idea? Pour half a bottle of kerosene on it and light it. I thought I could control the burn and use the log for our campfire. Instead, the fire spread faster than expected, engulfing the wooded area. We scrambled to the beach, pretending nothing happened. The Coast Guard eventually put it out and questioned us. We’d claimed we’d been on the beach all along. How old were we? Eighteen? Nineteen? That seemed so long ago. How happy we had been…

  The memory shattered as my ribs snapped into place with a sickening crunch. I bolted upright, gasping.

  “Welcome back, my dude,” the voice said.

  A few meters away sat a guy in combat fatigues. He was wearing camouflage pants with a long-sleeved shirt. His face was streaked in green and black paint. A beret rested on his head, the insignia unrecognizable. He perched on a stool beside a fire burning in a dented metal container, chewing on a sandwich.

  I blinked, taking in my surroundings. We were in a cavernous factory space, the concrete floor cracked and stained. Machines loomed in the shadows, rusted and silent. I looked down at myself and found I was covered in dried blood.

  “Uh… thank you. You saved me,” I managed.

  He just nodded, eyes sharp.

  “How long has it been for you?” he asked.

  “What?” I replied, not understanding his question.

  “How long have you been in this… new world?” he asked again.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Just tonight,” I stuttered.

  He nodded once.

  “Wait, how long has this been going on?” I asked.

  He stood, walked around the fire, and extended a hand. His grip was strong as he hauled me up.

  “I’m Siva,” he said. “And I’ve been here two months.”

  He returned to his stool and gestured to a cracked plastic chair nearby. I sank into it, wincing.

  Siva leaned back slightly, the firelight flickering across his features. Up close, he looked younger. He was tall and lanky, maybe seventeen or eighteen. A kid dressed for war.

  “Two months,” he repeated, as though convincing himself it was real. “You’re lucky I showed up when I did.”

  I swallowed, unsure what to say.

  He didn’t wait. “Look, I know this sounds insane, but you need to listen. What happened to you, it’s not normal. And you? You’re not normal anymore either. Not in the way you used to be.”

  My chest tightened. “Not normal? In what way?”

  He gestured at me, at my still-healing body. “An hour ago, monkeys with four arms beat you into the ground. Now you’re sitting here, breathing, talking. You should be dead. Does that sound normal to you?”

  I stared at him silently.

  “From what I can tell,” he continued, “this is Singapore… twisted. Dialed up to ten.”

  “Eleven,” I muttered before I could stop myself. “Ours goes to eleven.” A stupid Spinal Tap joke. He wouldn’t get it. I bit my tongue and let him talk.

  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the firelight sharpening the hollows under his eyes. For all his bravado, he looked tired. Actually, he looked haunted.

  “Do you play RPGs? Tabletop, D&D, Baldur’s Gate?”

  I nodded. “Used to play Pathfinder. Sometimes Dark Souls or Sekiro when I had time. Never got far, though.”

  “Good.” He nodded again and continued. “If you want to survive here, you need to believe this world runs on rules, just like those games. Systems. Stats. Quests. I’ve seen people refuse to accept it. They died fast. The sooner you realize that as fucked up as it is, this is now your new normal, the longer you live.”

  I raised a hand to slow him, but he pressed on, voice sharpening.

  “And no. I don’t know why or how. All I know is we’re here. And the only way forward is to adapt.”

  He caught my expression and smirked slightly. “Any text magically appear in front of your eyes, dude? Seen a ‘level’ number? A ‘skill’ pop-up?”

  I thought back to the glowing lines that had appeared after the market chase. The map in my head.

  Siva smiled grimly seeing my reaction.

  His words hung in the air. I closed my eyes and took a slow breath. Every part of me wanted to reject it, to call him crazy, but my memory argued otherwise. The creatures in Chong Pang, the monkeys, the system text, the fact that I was still alive.

  Nothing made sense, but Siva’s words… they struck a chord. I had always been the type to improvise, to read situations, to adapt. Most times, to the detriment of others, I thought bitterly.

  “Why did you do this? Why did you do this to us?”

  A voice. A distant memory. I pushed it away.

  I sighed deeply, opened my eyes, and nodded.

  Siva’s lips twitched, almost a smile. and he started talking.

  “Alright. Think of this place as a game. Health bars, stamina, experience, it’s real. I’ve tested it.”

  The more he spoke, the more animated he became. The kid behind the camouflage paint started to peek through.

  “Every fight I take, every wound I survive, I come out tougher. The world wants us dead, but it’s also… training us.”

  His gaze flicked downward. He intertwined his fingers, the faintest tremor giving him away. A crack in the mask.

  “I didn’t figure it out fast enough,” he said softly. “My first week, I thought it was just hell. My sister...”

  He stopped and shook his head, like he was shaking the thought away. His jaw tightened.

  Silence stretched between us, heavy as the factory air.

  Then he looked up, meeting my eyes. “But maybe, together, we could… you know. Get through this. Multiplayer instead of single player, right?”

  He gave a small, uncertain laugh.

  Then, more firmly, “Treat this like the toughest campaign you’ve ever played. Learn fast. Trust nothing. And never, ever think you’re safe.”

  The fire popped, sending sparks into the dark.

  I swallowed hard, the last of my resistance crumbling.

  “Alright,” I said quietly. “Show me the rules.”