Chapter 1: The Shattering of Reality

Ethan Cole sat in the back row of the geology lecture hall, his fingers absently drumming on the wooden desk. The professor's voice droned on about sedimentary layers, their slow formation over millennia, and the tectonic forces that shaped the earth's crust. It was a subject Ethan usually found fascinating, but today, he couldn't quite focus. The spring sun filtered through the narrow windows, casting a soft glow across the room, but it did little to lift his spirits.

His classmates were scattered around the hall, some diligently taking notes, others scrolling through their phones. A few—like Greg, the loud-mouthed business major who somehow always seemed to sit in front of Ethan—were half-asleep. Typical. Ethan had never felt a connection to them, even though he saw them every day. They were from the same college, attending the same classes, but to him, they may as well have been from another world.

Ethan rubbed his temples. He wasn't antisocial exactly, but he wasn't the type to join in on group chats, weekend parties, or impromptu study groups. Most of his classmates were fine, he supposed, but he'd always preferred solitude. His world was one of quiet reflection, of time spent studying plants and stones, tracing the natural laws that governed the earth. He loved the steady, grounding sensation of hiking through dense forests or crouching by a stream to examine strange moss-covered stones. Nature made sense. People, not so much.

He was majoring in both geology and agriculture, a combination that had raised more than a few eyebrows. But to Ethan, the link between the earth and the life it nurtured was obvious. Understanding one without the other was like trying to read half a book. He'd been more than happy to let his classmates bicker over internships or argue about grades while he quietly pursued his interests at his own pace.

"...and you can see here how sandstone layers erode differently based on the mineral composition."

The professor's voice pulled him back into the moment, but it wasn't enough to keep his attention. Ethan glanced out the window. The horizon stretched out far beyond the campus, mountains in the distance just barely visible beneath a haze of afternoon light. He found himself imagining what it would be like to walk along their jagged peaks, feeling the ancient power of the earth beneath his feet, tracing the veins of rock that ran through the mountains like the lifeblood of the planet.

A sudden pressure built behind his eyes, like a headache that came out of nowhere. Ethan winced, blinking. A faint flicker of light caught his peripheral vision, but when he looked, it was gone. He rubbed his forehead, thinking maybe he needed some water.

And then the world cracked.

One moment, Ethan was sitting in the dim, comforting monotony of the classroom. The next, a brilliant, blinding light exploded from nowhere, filling every inch of space. The room—the professor, the students, the desks—everything was swallowed in an instant by that impossible brightness.

A collective gasp rose from the class, panic erupting as the light surged like a living thing. Ethan felt his body being pulled—no, yanked—forward, as if some immense force had grabbed him by the spine and was dragging him through the light. His stomach lurched. He tried to speak, but no sound came. The light grew hotter, more intense, searing his eyes, his skin, until all he could do was shut his eyelids and pray that whatever was happening would stop.

But it didn't.

The light consumed everything. There was no floor beneath his feet, no sense of time or space. Just the endless, unbearable brightness and the growing sensation of... change. Something was happening to his body, to his very being. Ethan could feel it, even though he couldn't see or hear. It was as though his skin, his bones, were bending, reshaping, reforming into something else. It wasn't painful, but it was... wrong. The sensation made him want to scream.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the light faded.

Ethan fell, or maybe floated—he couldn't tell anymore—until finally, his feet touched solid ground.

His head was spinning, his limbs heavy. He blinked, trying to shake off the disorientation. Slowly, the world came into focus.

It wasn't the classroom anymore. No, this place was something else entirely.

Ethan stood in the midst of a vast, rugged valley. Towering peaks of jagged stone loomed on all sides, their dark surfaces scarred and worn by centuries of wind and rain. The air was cool, crisp, and carried the faint scent of earth and metal. Shadows stretched across the rocky landscape, and distant growls echoed off the mountains, hinting at creatures lurking in the unseen wilderness.

He looked down at himself and realized his appearance had changed. His skin had taken on a pale, almost alabaster tone, with faint golden streaks shimmering just below the surface, like veins of living metal. His ears, once rounded, were now slightly pointed at the tips. And his eyes—he caught a reflection in a puddle at his feet—glowed faintly with a light blue hue, the same color as the shimmering interface he had glimpsed earlier.

Around him, his classmates lay sprawled on the ground, some groaning, others wide-eyed and terrified. They too had been pulled into this strange place, but unlike Ethan's subtle transformation, most had taken on more obvious, traditional fantasy forms. Greg, the obnoxious jock, was now a broad-shouldered Orc, his skin a deep shade of green and his jaw jutting forward with sharp tusks. A girl from the front row, Sarah, now had the slender frame and silver hair of an Elf, her eyes glowing with an eerie, ethereal light. Another student, once lanky and awkward, was now a Dwarf, stocky and muscular, with a thick red beard spilling down his chest.

Ethan scanned the others, noticing more changes. A girl nearby had become a Halfling, her figure shorter and more compact, while a classmate from the chemistry department now had fur-covered arms and the fierce face of a feline-like Beastkin. The changes seemed to reflect the diverse array of fantasy races Ethan had only read about in books. So, we're in a world like that, he thought, his stomach tightening. And while everyone's new forms were apparent, he realized that none of them seemed to have undergone the same internal shift that he had felt.

A voice boomed from the cliffs above.

"New workers! Stand, all of you!"

Ethan's head snapped up. Standing atop a massive boulder was a figure clad in dark iron armor, a thick beard spilling over his chest. His eyes gleamed with an unnerving intensity, and he held a hammer the size of a small boulder in one hand. Behind him stood a line of similarly armored figures, all shorter than the average human but radiating strength and authority.

"Welcome to the Dwarven Kingdom of Gralheim," the figure barked. His voice carried over the wind, strong and commanding. "You've been summoned here to serve. The work is dangerous, but you will be compensated—if you survive."

There was no trace of kindness in the man's tone. This wasn't a rescue. It was conscription.

Looking around, Ethan noticed that they stood on an immense stone platform carved from the same dark rock as the mountains. Intricate runes glowed faintly beneath their feet, a testament to the powerful magic that had been used to summon them. At the center of the platform stood a large stone arch, its surface covered in the same glowing symbols. Beneath it, a series of steps descended toward a set of long wooden tables lined with thick parchment, ink pots, and an array of strange, floating crystals. Dwarves in finely crafted robes stood behind the tables, guiding the confused students forward.

"Step forward, one at a time!" shouted one of the dwarves at the registration table, his voice sharp and commanding. "Touch the tablet, and it will record your details—name, age, race, abilities. If you've been granted any skills by the magic of the summoning, we'll document those too."

The students began to shuffle forward, some hesitantly, others with a strange mixture of curiosity and fear. Ethan's eyes narrowed as Sarah approached the table first. She placed her hand on the flat, glowing surface of the tablet, and the crystal above the table pulsed with light. In an instant, her details appeared on the parchment—Sarah Lennox, Age: 22, Race: Elf, Ability: Spirit Vision.

Ethan watched closely as each classmate stepped forward, the process repeating itself. Greg—now the towering Orc—pressed his hand to the tablet, and the text appeared again: Greg Mathers, Age: 21, Race: Orc, Ability: Savage Strength.

One by one, each student touched the tablet, revealing their abilities and race. But as Ethan observed them, a realization began to form. None of them showed any sign of noticing the strange blue interface that flickered before his own eyes. They all seemed to react as though the summoning and transformations were natural, as if this world had shaped them but left no further impressions on their minds.

Ethan felt a knot tighten in his chest. None of them have the system, he thought. The glowing blue interface that had appeared before him—the system that displayed information, choices, and abilities—wasn't something anyone else could see.

That changed everything. If he revealed the true nature of his powers, who knew what the dwarves—or even his classmates—would do? He could become a tool, a weapon, or worse... a threat. In a world where magic and danger were clearly prevalent, standing out too much could cost him his life, or at the very least, his freedom.

Ethan's heart raced as his turn came. His hand hovered above the tablet. The glowing blue interface flickered in his vision again.

[System Override Detected. Do you wish to reveal your true ability?]

Ethan froze, his mind racing. If his true ability showed up on the tablet, it would immediately raise suspicion. The interface—this strange game-like system—gave him options others didn't have. There was no telling how powerful it could become, but one thing was certain: revealing it now would paint a target on his back.

[Yes] / [No]

He hesitated for only a moment before selecting [No]. Almost instantly, a message from the system popped up, confirming the selection.

Ability Registered: Identify.

The tablet glowed faintly, and the official behind the table scribbled on a piece of parchment. "Ethan Cole, Age: 21, Race: Sylven. Ability: Identify. Done."

Ethan released a slow breath of relief. His secret was safe—for now.