Onward

Steven lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

"...Now what?"

Not like he could exactly jump into a dungeon.

He let the silence linger before remembering everything he'd read over the past year and a half.

"The forums..."

The veteran Players had all said the same thing.

"Once you're invited, say Status."

Steven cleared his throat.

"Status."

Immediately, the familiar translucent blue window appeared before him.

Unlike the invitation, this one was far more detailed.

A portrait of his own face occupied the upper-left corner.

Name: Steven Thornberry

Class: Monk

Below that were his attributes.

Strength: 14

Dexterity: 6

Constitution: 10

Intelligence: 12

Wisdom: 14

Charisma: 6

Luck: 4

Steven read over them several times.

"...Huh."

His initial anger faded into reluctant acceptance.

"I actually... kind of get it."

He'd worked as a mechanic before his accident.

Years of wrenching on engines and hauling heavy parts had left him naturally stronger than the average person.

"Fourteen Strength."

"Yeah..."

"I'll take it."

Dexterity being only six was painfully obvious.

Half his body had been unresponsive for years.

No surprise there.

Constitution sat at ten.

Average.

Maybe slightly above.

"I've survived enough hospital visits."

Intelligence at twelve earned a small nod.

"I wasn't an idiot before becoming crippled."

Wisdom at fourteen...

He smiled.

Years trapped in bed had given him plenty of time to think.

To reflect.

To mature.

If nothing else, suffering had taught him patience.

Then...

Charisma.

Six.

"..."

"Okay, that's rude."

He scratched his cheek.

"I wasn't that awkward..."

A pause.

"...Actually..."

He sighed.

"Fair enough."

Finally...

Luck.

Four.

Steven barked out a laugh.

"Oh, come on."

"I'm crippled."

"Whoever made this system has a sick sense of humor."

Then he noticed something strange.

His Health.

HP: 50 / 100

Half the bar glowed bright red.

The other half...

Grey.

Completely inaccessible.

His eyes widened.

"...Wait."

"Constitution ten..."

"One hundred maximum health?"

"So..."

"Ten Constitution equals one hundred HP?"

That seemed reasonable.

Then he looked at the greyed-out portion again.

"...Half."

His smile disappeared.

"...Because half my body's dead weight."

It wasn't exactly dead.

But the System clearly recognized his disability.

He let out a slow breath.

"...Makes sense."

"Skills."

Another blue window replaced the first.

Inside was only a single entry.

Eternal Breath

Healing Meditation

Steven stared.

"...That's it?"

He blinked again.

"No rarity?"

"No mana cost?"

"No cooldown?"

"No description?"

His eye twitched.

"WTF YOU MEAN HEALING MEDITATION?!"

"GIVE MORE DETAIL!!"

His voice echoed through the house.

Immediately his eyes widened.

"...Shit."

He looked toward the hallway.

Silence.

His parents hadn't woken up.

"...Close one."

He leaned back against the bed.

"If it's called Healing Meditation..."

"I guess..."

"I meditate?"

It sounded stupid.

Then again...

Floating blue windows had appeared out of nowhere.

His standards for normal had already been thoroughly shattered.

Steven closed his eyes.

He began the only breathing exercise he actually knew.

Box breathing.

Four seconds in.

Hold for four.

Four seconds out.

Hold again.

Repeat.

Slowly...

Steadily...

His thoughts became quieter.

His shoulders relaxed.

Minutes slipped by.

Then—

A pleasant warmth bloomed inside his chest.

Unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

It spread outward through his body like warm water.

Across his shoulders.

Down his spine.

Into his hips.

His numb legs tingled.

Steven's eyes flew open.

"...What?"

Both status windows still floated beside him.

His gaze darted toward his health.

51 / 100

The grey section had shrunk.

Only slightly.

Just...

One point.

He stared for several seconds before a grin slowly spread across his face.

"..."

"Oh..."

"You cheeky fuckers."

He closed his eyes again.

And kept breathing.

Four.

Hold.

Four.

Hold.

Again.

Again.

Again.

About twenty minutes later...

"I'm bored."

Steven opened his eyes dramatically.

"I can't do this anymore."

"I don't have the mental capacity."

He checked his status.

55 / 100

"..."

"...Only five?"

He groaned.

"Ugh..."

"This is gonna take awhile."

Days passed.

Whenever he could tolerate the monotony, Steven meditated.

Morning.

Afternoon.

Evening.

Whenever his attention span allowed.

Point by point...

His health returned.

Fifty-six.

Sixty-three.

Seventy-nine.

Ninety-two.

Ninety-nine.

Finally...

One quiet afternoon...

100 / 100

The final grey segment disappeared.

Steven blinked.

Then...

Something happened.

He felt his toes.

Actually...

Felt them.

He froze.

"..."

Slowly...

Very slowly...

His right foot moved.

Then the left.

Pain shot through muscles that hadn't been used in years.

He didn't care.

Tears welled in his eyes.

He wiggled every toe.

Again.

Again.

Again.

He laughed.

Then cried.

Then laughed harder.

"I..."

"I can move..."

Healing his nerves hadn't magically rebuilt years of muscle atrophy.

His legs looked as weak as ever.

Standing was another matter entirely.

But for the first time in years...

Standing was possible.

His training became relentless.

At first he simply kicked his legs while sitting in bed.

Hundreds of repetitions while grinding quests in Rose Online.

When soreness became unbearable...

He activated Eternal Breath.

Meditated.

Recovered.

Then started again.

Week after week.

Eventually he attempted standing.

The first attempt lasted less than a second.

He collapsed backward onto the mattress.

"...Ow."

Second attempt.

Three seconds.

Third.

Five.

Eventually...

Thirty.

Then...

One full minute.

His legs shook violently.

Sweat poured down his face.

But he remained standing.

"I..."

"I'm doing it."

Walking came next.

One careful step.

Then another.

Using furniture for support.

Falling.

Getting back up.

Meditating.

Trying again.

His determination bordered on obsession.

Eventually...

The staircase became his greatest enemy.

Every step burned.

His legs screamed.

His lungs begged him to quit.

But waiting upstairs...

Was something he'd missed for years.

A real shower.

A real bath.

Not another sponge bath in the living room.

That alone kept him climbing.

One step.

Another.

Another.

Eventually...

He reached the top.

Steven rested against the hallway wall.

Laughing through exhausted breaths.

"I won."

Several weeks later...

His muscles had returned enough that walking no longer looked unnatural.

There was still room to improve.

Plenty of it.

But he was independent again.

He could walk.

On his own.

The System had given him his life back.

Now...

It was finally time to become a real Player.

There was one problem.

His parents.

Deeply religious, they'd despised the Dungeon Gates from the moment they appeared.

"They are an affront to God Himself."

His mother repeated those words often.

His father agreed every time.

Steven already knew telling them was impossible.

He'd simply...

Keep it secret.

Besides...

His older brother had mysteriously found a job almost immediately after the Gates appeared.

The timing had always been suspicious.

He suddenly remembered.

Was he...

First Generation?

It would explain the steady money.

The improved finances.

Helping keep food on the table.

Steven made a mental note.

Maybe someday I'll ask.

He woke early the morning he planned to register.

Then immediately smacked his forehead.

"...Right."

His driver's license had expired.

His car hadn't run in years.

Between learning to walk again and training every day...

He'd completely forgotten.

There was only one solution.

"Uber."

Roughly thirty minutes later, the rideshare pulled up in front of an enormous government building.

Nearly fifty stories stretched into the sky, its mirrored windows reflecting the bright summer sun.

"This is..."

He swallowed.

"...Bigger than I expected."

Inside, the lobby was surprisingly quiet.

A spacious reception area stretched before him.

Only one employee sat behind the front desk.

A young woman with bright red hair looked up from her computer.

Steven approached nervously.

"H-Hello."

"My name is Steven."

"I'm here to register as a Player."

The woman's eyes widened ever so slightly.

For just a brief instant...

They seemed to glow.

"Oh..."

She blinked rapidly.

"Um..."

"...Shit."

Steven couldn't help raising an eyebrow.

She immediately covered her mouth.

"I—sorry."

"We knew this day would come."

She quickly composed herself.

"Please have a seat over there."

"Someone will be with you shortly."

She picked up the phone.

Three minutes later...

Ding.

The elevator doors opened.

An older man stepped out.

Short white hair.

Broad shoulders despite his age.

Several old scars crossed his face.

The kind earned through survival.

Not accidents.

He walked directly toward Steven.

"Hello there, son."

He smiled warmly before extending a hand.

"I'm Gerald."

"Nice to meet you."

Steven accepted the handshake.

Gerald's grip was firm.

"Follow me, if you would."

The elevator ignored every floor on the way up.

Straight to fifty.

The top.

The hallway beyond was surprisingly elegant.

Large windows overlooked the city.

Portraits of famous Players lined the walls.

At the very end stood the largest office Steven had ever seen.

Gerald motioned him inside.

Once seated, the older man folded his hands on the desk.

"As you can probably tell..."

"This is a monumental moment for us."

"We always believed another generation of Players would eventually appear."

"We simply never knew when."

He smiled.

"And now..."

"Here you are."

"A brand-new Level One."

"Ready to begin."

He leaned forward.

"So."

"What class did you receive?"

"And what was your starting skill?"

Steven swallowed.

"Um..."

"I'm a Monk."

"And my starting ability is... Eternal Breath."

Gerald simply nodded, unfazed.

"I see."

He made no comment beyond that.

Instead, his tone became professional.

"Then let's begin your orientation."

For nearly an hour, Gerald explained the fundamentals of life as a Player.

Every dungeon was dangerous.

Every unexplored dungeon contained unknown monsters, unknown terrain, and unknown risks.

"The Player Handbook is your best friend."

He slid a brochure across the desk.

"It's available as an app on both Android and iPhone."

"It contains documented dungeon information gathered by governments and guilds around the world."

Steven nodded.

Gerald continued.

"Every Gate has an objective."

"Closing the Gate permanently requires fulfilling that objective."

"The problem..."

"We rarely know what that objective is beforehand."

Sometimes it meant defeating a boss.

Sometimes escorting someone.

Sometimes solving puzzles.

Sometimes something entirely unexpected.

"And every Gate has a timer."

His expression became serious.

"If that timer reaches zero..."

"The monsters come here."

Steven immediately remembered the news footage.

South Korea.

An entire district overrun.

Buildings collapsing.

Military helicopters firing missiles.

Dozens dead before the monsters were finally exterminated.

He quietly nodded.

"I remember."

Gerald continued.

"Occasionally..."

"A rainbow-colored Gate appears."

"We call them Special Events."

"They are significantly more dangerous than standard Gates."

"The rewards are equally significant."

Every monster inside was guaranteed to drop worthwhile loot.

The completion reward was always at least a rare-grade item.

"But understand this."

His voice hardened.

"Once you enter..."

"You do not leave."

"Completion."

"Or death."

"No exceptions."

Steven felt a chill.

"As a beginner..."

"Avoid them."

The lecture shifted to practical matters.

"The inventory system is one of humanity's greatest discoveries."

Gerald pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet.

"Watch."

He pressed it against his blue status window.

The bill vanished instantly.

"Anything placed into your inventory is digitized."

"Weapons."

"Armor."

"Materials."

"Money."

"Practically anything."

A second later the bill reappeared.

"Though why anyone would store cash..."

He chuckled.

"I've never understood."

Steven laughed.

Then came something unexpected.

"Our South Korean allies accomplished something remarkable."

"They successfully integrated modern technology with the System."

He opened a drawer and produced a sleek identification card made from an unfamiliar metallic material.

"The Player Identification Card."

"It automatically synchronizes with your Status."

"Name."

"Class."

"Level."

"Attributes."

"Skills."

"It updates itself."

"The United States adopted the technology shortly afterward."

"It makes tracking Players infinitely easier."

Steven stared.

"...That's incredible."

Then...

Recognition struck him like lightning.

Wait.

Gerald.

The scars.

The white hair.

"I know you."

Gerald smiled knowingly.

"You watched the news."

"You were one of the first Americans..."

"...to permanently conquer and close a Gate."

Gerald laughed.

"Guilty."

"But don't let the interviews fool you."

"They only film the victories."

He went on to explain that both the government and private guilds maintained scouting divisions dedicated to discovering newly appeared Gates.

Some Gates would be legally purchased by guilds, granting exclusive exploration rights.

"The app will clearly mark those."

"Respect them."

"It avoids unnecessary... arguments."

Finally Gerald pressed an intercom.

"Sarah?"

His secretary answered from outside.

"Yes, sir?"

"Would you bring our newest Player his identification card?"

"Right away."

Moments later, a young secretary entered carrying a small case.

Inside rested Steven's Player ID.

It bore his name.

A barcode.

A unique serial number.

The strange metallic material shimmered faintly in the light.

Gerald handed it over with a smile.

"Welcome to the Players Club."

He laughed.

"Just joking."

"But truly..."

"Welcome."

He stood and offered one final handshake.

"My advice?"

"Join a guild as soon as possible."

"The handbook app contains every registered guild in the country."

"Find one that suits you."

Steven carefully slipped the ID card into his wallet.

"...Thank you."

Gerald nodded.

"I look forward to hearing about your adventures."

With that, Steven left the office.

He rode the elevator back to the lobby, stepped outside into the warm summer air, and looked up at the towering building one last time.

Only a few months ago, he had been trapped in a medical bed, convinced his life was over.

Now he had a Player ID in his wallet.

Working legs beneath him.

And an entire world of dungeons waiting to be explored.

For the first time in years...

The future felt exciting.