Kael Arden's first conscious thought was that he wasn't breathing. His second thought, when the icy air hit his lungs, was that something was deeply wrong.
The smell was the first thing that truly hit him—sharp, acrid, and metallic. It burned his nostrils and clung to the back of his throat. The second thing was the cold. His body ached with it, like he'd been left in the middle of a windblown tundra.
He groaned and opened his eyes. Above him was a ceiling made of raw steel beams, some of them half-welded together, others still exposed like ribs in a half-finished skeleton.
This wasn't his apartment.
Kael pushed himself up slowly, his hands scraping against the gritty texture of a steel floor. Fine grains of ash coated his palms, smudging his sleeves as he wiped them clean. His fingers, shaking from the cold, weren't his own—larger, rougher, calloused. He flexed them experimentally, his heart thudding harder when they moved perfectly in time with his thoughts.
"What the…"
His voice, hoarse and unfamiliar, trailed off as his gaze darted around the room.
He was in a small room, maybe twenty feet by thirty, lit dimly by a single overhead bulb that flickered every few seconds. A workbench dominated one corner, cluttered with tools, wires, and scraps of metal. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with neatly organized materials—steel plates, wooden beams, and coils of copper wire.
It took Kael only a moment to recognize it. This was the workshop he'd built.
The steel walls, the overhead lighting, even the distinct layout of the shelves—it was all exactly as he'd designed it in Ashfall: The Final Days.
"No," he whispered, shaking his head. "This can't be real."
His legs felt like they were made of lead, but he forced himself to stand, gripping the edge of the workbench for support. He turned in a slow circle, his eyes darting over every detail.
The workbench drawer, where he'd stored his emergency weapon. He pulled it open with trembling hands. Inside was the rusted pipe he'd scavenged from the ruins of a train station in-game.
The shelves, stacked with the materials he'd painstakingly looted from abandoned towns. The familiar blue glow of fuel canisters on the top shelf made his stomach twist with recognition.
Even the generator, humming faintly in the corner, was the same one he'd repaired hours before his last play session.
The air around him felt heavier now, his breaths coming faster as reality—or something pretending to be reality—settled in.
Kael moved toward the narrow window on the far wall. His boots clanged against the steel floor with every step, the sound unnervingly loud in the silence.
He pushed the makeshift curtain aside, his breath catching at the sight beyond.
The wasteland stretched endlessly before him, painted in shades of gray and red. The ash clouds overhead hung low, glowing faintly as if lit from within. Gnarled trees dotted the horizon, their branches twisted like claws reaching toward the sickly green sky.
And in the distance, the faint orange glow of fire flickered against the ruins of an old city, its skeletal towers jutting out like broken teeth.
It was all so familiar. The Necrostorm brewing on the horizon. The soundless void broken only by the occasional groan of shifting metal.
"This is… Ashfall."
The chime startled him—a soft, melodic sound that came from everywhere and nowhere at once. Kael stumbled back from the window as a translucent interface materialized before him, floating in the air like a hologram.
[System Reinitializing... Welcome, VoidBuilder. Survival Mode Activated.]
Kael stared, his pulse hammering in his ears. The HUD was unmistakable. Health, stamina, and hunger bars lined the top of the display, each one glowing faintly. Beneath them were tabs for inventory, crafting, and objectives.
It was Ashfall's system, but this time, it wasn't confined to a screen. It was here, in the air, following his gaze as though responding to his thoughts.
"What the hell is going on?" Kael said, his voice breaking.
The system pulsed, responding to his question as text scrolled across the interface.
[Initializing Power Integration... Trait Assigned: Adaptive Architect.]
Kael blinked. "Adaptive Architect? What does that mean?"
The system answered.
[Trait: Adaptive Architect.
Grants the ability to visualize, modify, and optimize structures within controlled territory. Efficiency increased by 25%. Resource cost reduced by 10%.]
His heart raced as the implications sank in. Traits were a mechanic in the game, rare and often powerful abilities unlocked through achievements. He'd never heard of Adaptive Architect before, but it was exactly what it sounded like—a builder's dream.
But why was the system assigning him traits like he was still a player? And why did it feel so real?
The answer didn't come, but the growl that echoed outside the walls was answer enough.
Kael's head snapped toward the sound. It was low, guttural, and growing louder by the second.
He moved cautiously to the window, his heart thudding harder with every step. The wasteland beyond the perimeter fence was still at first, but then he saw them.
Glowing red eyes.
A pack of them, moving through the ash like shadows, their skeletal forms distorted and wrong. The wolves of Ashfall—mutated predators with bone spurs jutting from their backs and exposed ribs that vented steam with every breath.
"Oh, no," Kael muttered. "Not now. Not like this."
The pack moved like predators testing prey, circling the perimeter, sniffing the air. One broke away, loping toward the south wall. Its claws scraped against the steel, leaving jagged marks in the metal.
Kael's pulse quickened. The south wall was his weakest point—unfinished, hastily patched together with scrap after he'd run out of resources.
He bolted for the workbench, yanking open the drawers until he found the emergency tablet. His fingers fumbled over the screen as he activated the base's construction interface.
The holographic blueprint of the settlement appeared before him, glowing faintly. The south wall flashed red, marked as "Vulnerable."
"Come on," Kael muttered, selecting the wall. The system prompted him:
[Reinforce Wall? Cost: 10 Steel, 5 Wood. Time: 3 Minutes.]
He confirmed the command. The wall shimmered, steel plates sliding into place as the system executed the repair.
Outside, the wolves growled louder, their glowing eyes fixed on the settlement.
Kael grabbed the rusted pipe from the workbench and climbed to the second floor, where the watchtower's skeleton offered a clear view of the surrounding wasteland.
From above, he could see the pack more clearly. There were five of them—lean, skeletal beasts with jagged spines and snapping jaws. The largest of them, the alpha, was nearly the size of a small car, its glowing red eyes fixed on the settlement like a predator sizing up its prey.
Kael's grip tightened on the pipe as he activated the turret nearest the south wall. The automated weapon sputtered to life, its barrel swiveling to target the wolves.
The first burst of gunfire tore through the air, hitting one of the smaller wolves. It collapsed in a heap of steam and bone, but the rest of the pack didn't flinch.
The alpha howled, and the remaining wolves charged.
Kael braced himself. This wasn't just a game anymore. This was survival.