Cyrilian Might

System: "Welcome, Ian. You have been selected for processing."

Ian looked around, his heart pounding as he saw nothing but white surrounding him. The voice was indistinct, neither male nor female, and seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. He checked himself—he was standing, but not on anything solid. He wasn’t floating either.

Ian: “What’s going on here?! Who are you? What is this?” he shouted, panic rising.

System: "Processing complete. Integration is denied."

Ian: “What? Denied? What does that mean? Can’t you tell me anything?”

System: "Enter Tutorial?"

Multiple screens blinked into existence around Ian, his eyes locking onto one—a stat screen.

Strength: 0

Dexterity: 0

Constitution: 0

Intelligence: 0

Wisdom: 0

Luck: 0

Ian: “Why are these stats zero? Am I dead? Where’s everyone? Where’s my family?”

System: "Enter Tutorial?"

Ian realized the system wasn’t budging.

Ian: “Help! Somebody help me! Am I in a coma? What’s going on?!”

A grey shadowy figure appeared in front of Ian.

Ian: “Hey, you! Why can’t I see you?”

System: "Disturbance detected. To appease user’s mentality, an avatar has been created."

The avatar slowly started shifting into a build much like Ian’s own.

Ian: “Can you answer some questions?”

System: "Enter Tutorial?"

The avatar’s mouth moved, but the voice still seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

Ian: “Do I die if I don’t accept? Am I already dead?”

The avatar shimmered with pearlescent light at the top of its head. Slowly, color began to take shape—bright red hair, a face that distorted slightly, but resembled Ian. The shimmering stopped.

Ian: “What the hell!? Why do you look like Andrew? What have you done to him?”

His fists clenched, muscles tightening as his face flushed with anger.

System (in Andrew’s voice): “Hey dude, this avatar is here to help you out. We selected an appearance to calm you. Do you want to enter the tutorial?”

The voice sounded like a mixture of the previous robotic tone and Andrew’s.

Ian: “What happened to my brother? Where’s the rest of my family?”

System (Andrew): “Come on, man. Make a decision. Enter the Tutorial?”

Ian glanced at the remaining screens he hadn’t looked at.

Inventory:

Head

Shoulders

Bracers

Gloves

Legs

Boots

Trinkets: Slot 1, Slot 2, Slot 3

Skills: 0/?

Abilities: Null

Race: Human

Age: 31

Faction: Null

Heritage: Cyrilian Might

Bloodline: Strength’s Foundation

Built upon your forefather's will to not give up.

Ability: Passive – Unknown

Ian: “I have an inventory and skills? Is this a video game? What’s this heritage? The name... it’s similar to Dad’s.”

He looked back toward the avatar, which had fully transformed into Andrew’s familiar stout and stocky figure, complete with the wavy red hair and blue eyes.

Ian: “What happens when I enter the tutorial?”

The avatar remained silent.

Ian: “I don’t know what this is or why I’m not good enough for your integration, but I don’t know what the alternative is either. So, fine, I’ll enter your tutorial. If this is the only way to survive, then so be it. But I’m not about to let you judge me without a fight.”

The white surrounding Ian blinked out like an old tube television shutting off. Suddenly, he was engulfed in darkness, unable to see his hand in front of his face.

A screen appeared.

System (Andrew): "Tutorial simulation processing."

A number appeared below the text: 0%. It slowly ticked up, stopping at 99%.

Ian: “What’s going on? Why has it stopped?”

System (Andrew): "Companion eligibility found. Proceed with companion for the Tutorial?"

A separate screen appeared, displaying the outline of a dog.

Ian: “Oh my god, is that Flynn?”

The screen only displayed two options: Yes or No.

System (Andrew): "Proceeding with a companion will affect your experience. Consequences will follow your choices."

Ian: “Flynn has been like a child to me. I never wanted kids, and Flynn has always filled that role. Flynn’s been my rock for years. The idea of leaving him behind... it feels wrong. But dragging him into this? God, what if something happens to him? I couldn’t live with that. But if I don’t bring him, will I lose him anyway? I can’t...”

He paused.

Ian: “I suppose you’re not going to explain further. Whatever. Let’s bring my boy. We’ll see this through together.”

His verbal confirmation was enough. The screen blinked out, and the progress meter ticked up to 100%.

Ian’s vision blurred as the world collapsed into darkness. Then, with a sudden jolt, the feeling of cool grass tickled his skin, followed by a heavy weight on his chest. His eyes fluttered open, greeted by the bright blue of a cloudless sky—and Flynn’s drooling face hovering above him.

Ian: “Alright, alright. I’m getting up.”

He shifted his head and felt prickling on his ear.

Ian: “Did I fall asleep outside again? Why’d you let me do that, bubba?”

He opened his eyes fully, seeing trees all around him.

Ian: “Wait, where are we?”

Ian began remembering the dream.

Ian: “That wasn’t a dream, was it, boy?”

Flynn nudged Ian’s elbow.

Ian: “Okay, I’m getting up.”

Suddenly, a loud screech pierced the air behind him. Flynn barked, and Ian instinctively stepped in front of his dog.

A large bird flew toward them. Its wingspan was nearly 10 feet, with a long narrow beak, a white body, and black-and-white wings. The sound of snapping branches filled the air as the bird struggled through the dense trees, its wings beating erratically. Ian could feel the gust of wind as it neared, the creature’s screech sending shivers down his spine.

Ian spotted a log nearby and grabbed it.

Ian: “Get away!”

The bird closed in fast. Ian looked back at Flynn, who was still barking.

Suddenly, Ian felt warmth in his chest—an odd feeling of dread washed over him, but it was quickly followed by relief.

Ian: “I can’t let this bird hurt Flynn.”

With a burst of strength, Ian flung the log at the bird, hitting its wing. He had never thrown anything with such ease. Something in this world was amplifying him—or maybe it was part of the system’s twisted game. Either way, he wasn’t about to let Flynn get hurt.

The bird’s wing folded in, and it flew headfirst into a tree. The tree creaked, then collapsed, crushing the bird beneath it.

Ian stood frozen, staring at the fallen tree and the crushed bird. His chest heaved as the warmth inside him pulsed—a lingering sensation of connection. But to what? He glanced at his hands, still trembling from the effort, yet he had thrown that log like it was nothing.

Ian: “Did you see that, Flynn!? No way I was letting that bird get us!”

Ian felt something spiritual enter his body. He looked at Flynn and noticed a small shiver on his dog’s back.

Ian: “Did you feel that too?”

Flynn barked in response. Ian patted his head.

Ian: “Yeah, I thought so.”

He glanced around. The forest was sparse, the trees looking normal—but when Ian looked up again, he noticed there was no sun in the sky.

Ian knelt down beside Flynn.

Ian: “We’re definitely not home anymore.”

A distant memory of a girl with sparkly red shoes crossed Ian’s mind.

Ian: “Alright, let’s go find our yellow-brick road.”

A screen appeared with Flynn’s name on it.

Companion

Name: Flynn

Level: 1

Experience: 30/50

Sire: Ian Doyle

Skills: 1/?

Abilities: Null

Race: Canine

Age: 4

Faction: Null

Heritage: Unassigned

Ian: “Flynn, you have an unassigned Heritage? How do I assign it?”

Flynn tilts his head quizically.

Another screen appeared:

Heritage: ??????

Heritage assigned at the completion of the Tutorial.

Ian thought for a moment, and the screen closed. His personal stats opened up.

Ian: “The only thing noteworthy is the experience change—30/50, just like you, bubba.”

He smiled, standing up.

Ian: “Alright, let’s go find our yellow-brick road.”