The days following Elijah's parents' visit were a strange mix of comfort and crushing reality.
For one brief evening, he'd let himself believe that everything would be okay.
That Earth wouldn't be swallowed by a universe too big to understand and too dangerous to survive.
But as the sun rose the next morning, reality came crashing down like an anvil on his chest.
He rubbed his temples, staring at the system screen floating in front of him. "Okay, System. I have questions. Lots of questions."
[You may ask your questions, Elijah Kane.]
He raised an eyebrow. "Thanks, Hal 9000," he muttered.
"First question: should I... you know, tell people about all this? Maybe warn the world so they can prepare or something?"
The screen flickered, and for a moment, Elijah swore he could feel the system's judgmental silence.
[Disclosing the merge prematurely will result in widespread panic, destabilization of Earth's current systems, and a 99.8% chance of your immediate death.]
Elijah froze. "Immediate death? Care to elaborate on that?"
[Disclosure of classified information may trigger the intervention of higher-dimensional entities. Their actions will not be favorable.]
"So, what you're saying is... I'd get smited by cosmic overlords for talking?"
[Correct.]
He slumped back into his chair, groaning. "Great. So, I'm the only one who knows the apocalypse is coming, and I can't say a damn thing about it. Love that for me."
With his grand plan to warn humanity thoroughly shut down, Elijah had no choice but to focus on the quest in front of him: understanding the Dawn Empire.
For the next seven days, his life became a monotonous cycle of reading, note-taking, and yelling at the system whenever the material got too dense.
The system had provided him with a vast library of resources, including detailed histories, cultural guides, and even imperial law manuals.
It was like going back to college, but without the promise of pizza or socializing to break the monotony.
"Who even writes this stuff?" Elijah muttered one afternoon, glaring at a particularly dull text titled
The Socioeconomic Evolution of the Eastern Frontier.
"This isn't a book; it's a sleeping pill in disguise."
[Progress is measured by effort, not complaints,] the system replied.
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "You try reading 500 pages about tax reforms and see how motivated you feel."
As the days passed, Elijah began to piece together a clearer picture of the Dawn Empire.
It was massive, yes, but also deeply flawed. Its people were divided by class, race, and ambition, and its regions operated like semi-autonomous states constantly vying for favor or power.
The system's breakdowns of ethnic groups, philosophies, and governance structures were surprisingly helpful, even if Elijah wished he could just download the knowledge straight into his brain.
"Alright," he muttered on the fifth day, scribbling notes on a piece of paper. "So, the Verdant Council is all about trade and development, but they're basically just a bunch of rich merchants with fancy titles. The Sunblade Order? Militaristic psychos loyal to the emperor. And the Crimson Pact is... well, they're just straight-up rebels."
[Your analysis is correct,] the system said.
Elijah smirked. "Of course it is. I'm a fast learner, remember?"
[Your pace is adequate.]
"Gee, thanks," he said dryly.
By the seventh day, Elijah felt like his brain was on the verge of melting.
He'd learned more about the Dawn Empire than he'd ever wanted to know, but the quest wasn't complete yet.
"Come on, System," he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "How much more do I need to read before you let me pass this stupid quest?"
[Completion requires engagement with all required materials. Progress: 90%.]
"90%?!" he exclaimed. "You're telling me I've done all this work, and I'm still not done? What do I have left to do, recite the empire's founding charter?"
[Memorization is not required. Application of knowledge will be tested in future tasks.]
"Application, huh? Well, here's an application for you: I apply to quit this stupid system!"
[Request denied.]
Elijah groaned again but forced himself to push through the final 10%.
If there was one thing he hated more than studying, it was leaving something unfinished.
Late on the eighth day, the system finally chimed with a notification:
[Quest Complete: Dawn Empire 101.]
[Reward: +10 Comprehension.]
[Status Board Unlocked.]
Elijah threw his hands in the air, practically collapsing onto his bed. "Finally! I thought I was going to die of boredom before I ever got to use this thing."
The floating screen flickered, and a new panel appeared, displaying what looked like a simplified character sheet.
---
Status Board
Name: Elijah Kane
Age: 18
Comprehension: 15
Physical Strength: 4
Agility: 5
Charisma: 6
Intelligence: 10
Luck: 7
---
Elijah stared at the stats, his mouth slowly falling open. "What the hell is this?"
[The status board reflects your current attributes and abilities. Further growth can be achieved through quests, training, and other activities.]
"Yeah, I get that," he said, jabbing a finger at the screen. "But why do my stats suck so much? Look at this! Four in physical strength? I'm basically a twig!"
[Your physical strength reflects your current state. It can be improved through regular training.]
"And charisma? Six? I'm not exactly a people person, but come on! Six?!"
[Charisma reflects your current ability to influence others. Your score is average.]
"Average," Elijah repeated flatly. "Wow. Thanks, System. I feel so much better now."
For the next ten minutes, Elijah paced the room, ranting to himself as the system remained perfectly silent.
"I'm supposed to save the world, and this is what I get? A glorified report card that tells me I'm average at everything? How is this fair? Shouldn't I have, like, OP protagonist stats? I died, for crying out loud! I deserve something cool!"
[Growth is earned, not given,] the system replied calmly.
"Oh, shut up," Elijah snapped. "You're just saying that because you're a glorified Excel spreadsheet."
Eventually, his anger simmered down, and he collapsed back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Alright," he muttered. "Maybe this isn't the worst thing. At least I have a starting point. And I guess... I guess if I had OP stats from the beginning, it'd be boring."
The system didn't respond, and for once, Elijah was glad.
He closed his eyes, letting the tension drain from his body.
The merge was only a few weeks away, and there was still so much to do.
But for now, he'd take a small victory where he could get it.
"Alright, Endless World," he murmured. "You want me to prove myself? Fine. Bring it on."