Dorolum Prime,Shadowfen Wilds
Deep within a sprawling, unclaimed wilderness, a domain where ancient forest grudgingly ceded ground to suffocating swamp, stood an ominous, weathered altar. Its rough-hewn stone, dark and seemingly untouched by any civilized hand, formed a stark monument amidst the twisting, gnarled trees and the murky, still waters below. Upon this chilling, cold stone slab, smooth and unsettlingly pristine, lay a young woman.
In a slight indent on the stone slab that led to the altar monument, a patch of dark, dried blood marred the surface, a chilling testament to recent violence.
The woman appeared to be in her early twenties, her form utterly exposed, fully naked to the oppressive air. Her features were strikingly defined even in the stillness of repose: a cascade of dark, raven black strands of hair spilled across the cold stone like spilled ink, contrasting sharply with the pallor of her skin. Her figure was mature and compelling, her prominent breasts hinting at a natural power that defied her vulnerable, unconscious state. Her skin, impossibly smooth and creamy against the ruggedness of her surroundings, seemed to glow faintly in the gloom. However, between her legs, upon her sex, there was a gruesome mix of blood and sperm, stark and horrifying against her pale skin.
Around the base of the slab, arranged with an unnerving, almost ritualistic precision, were several small, perfectly conical piles of fine, pale dust, each evenly spaced as if left by an unseen, meticulous hand. These unsettling remnants, ghostly against the dark earth, offered no clue to the macabre ceremony that might have just concluded, but the scene on the slab spoke volumes of a terrifying violation.
The young woman's unnatural amethyst eyes fluttered open. She let out a slight groan as she closed her eyes tightly, wincing at the searing, painful headache that hammered behind her temples. It was so intense she thought her head could split open at any moment.
"Ow," she murmured, her voice a soft, smooth as honey sound that seemed almost out of place in the grim wilderness. On instinct, she reached up, her fingers pressing against her temples, beginning to rub them in slow, desperate circles. It didn't make the pain vanish, but the relentless throbbing dulled to a slightly more bearable ache.
She finally opened her eyes again, and above her, she saw the vast, indifferent night sky, a swirling canvas of stars and deep cosmic blackness. Slowly, with a pained grunt, she began to push herself up to a sitting position, wincing as fresh pain shot through her body. A deeper, aching soreness throbbed between her legs, and though she didn't know why, a profound wave of disgust washed over her, an instinctual revulsion for something she couldn't recall. It was then that the biting chill of the air made her realize she was completely naked, her nipples hardening and standing at attention.
Her gaze swept around frantically, searching for anything—a shred of cloth, a leaf, anything to cover herself. But the only things that met her eyes were the unsettling, oddly neat piles of dust at the altar's base, the dark smear of dried blood in the indent on the stone slab, and the horrifying, dried mixture of blood and semen starkly visible on her thighs and sex.
"What happened here?" she thought to herself, a desperate, silent plea for understanding in the vast, uncaring wilderness.
Suddenly, a semi-transparent screen flickered into existence directly before her eyes, luminous against the dim light of the forest. It was a stat screen, stark and utterly bizarre, yet undeniably focused on her.
Name: Seraphina Brodior
Age: 22
Race: Human
Class: ???
Level: 0
Health: 15
Agility: 20
Charm: 30
Strength: 5
Defense: 3
MP: 30
Intelligent: 50
Luck: 1
"I... Is this me? Am I Seraphina Brodior?" she thought to herself, her heart thudding against her ribs, the name echoing with both a foreign strangeness and a faint, desperate hope.
"What am I supposed to do now?" Seraphina thought, and as if to directly answer her unspoken question, the holographic screen flickered. The familiar stat display vanished, replaced by a new tab: "Missions."
Missions: Mission 1: Survive, and reach level 10.
Find gears, and items to help you survive this hellish forest.
Mission 2: Unlock your first class.
Meet hidden conditions to unlock your first class.
Seraphina blinked, her amethyst eyes wide with disbelief and confusion. "How can I get rid of this screen, or call on it again?" she wondered internally. Once again, as if reading her thoughts, the screen flickered, shifting to display an "Encyclopedia." It had multiple tabs, but all save one were locked and greyed out. Cautiously, she mentally 'tapped' the single unlocked tab. A wave of information flooded her mind, succinctly explaining that to close the menu, she could either focus her thoughts on dismissing it, or speak the command aloud. The same methods would allow her to reopen it.
"Close Menu," Seraphina commanded aloud, her soft voice carrying surprisingly well in the still air. The holographic screen vanished instantly, leaving only the oppressive gloom of the forest. She blinked, a flicker of amusement sparking in her unnatural eyes. "Status," she tried next, and just as swiftly, the Stat menu reappeared before her, luminous and responsive. For a brief moment, she was like a child discovering a wondrous new toy, an innocent joy bubbling up that felt profoundly out of place with her current predicament. However, this fleeting amusement was abruptly cut short when a new line of text flashed onto the screen, curt and dismissive: "Cease these frivolous commands."
Seraphina froze, a different kind of shock running through her. The menu wasn't just a tool; it was sentient. While it only communicated through text, its clear 'rebuke' was undeniable. After closing the menu once more, absorbing this astonishing revelation, and allowing the initial shock to pass, she carefully slid off the slab. Thankfully, the stone surface was smooth beneath her, offering no further abrasions.
Now standing, she took a moment to truly examine her body, a raw, almost detached assessment. She had to admit, even to herself, that her form was undeniably stunning. With a perfectly shaped ass, thighs that were neither too thick nor too slender but just enough, and long, elegant legs, she possessed a physique so captivating that, if she were a man, she would absolutely fuck her. If she didn't know any better, she might have thought she was a seasoned whore before her memories were erased. But then, the aching, violated throbbing between her legs, now dulled to a persistent, nagging pain, slammed her back to the grim reality. She might have no memories, but she wasn't a goddamn idiot. Piece by agonizing piece, the evidence clicked into place: she had been a virgin before whatever unspeakable horror had just transpired.
"Well, there's no sense in worrying about it," Seraphina thought to herself, her gaze sweeping over the unsettling altar and the dense, dark woods. "I can't remember my past, so I might as well focus on what I can do. Find some clothes and try to figure out how to complete these missions. I can research my past another time."
The very next thing she knew, a small, concise screen popped into existence directly in her line of sight. It was a single line of text: "That's the most sensible thing you had ever said or thought since waking up." And just as quickly as it appeared, the screen vanished. Seraphina's amethyst eyes narrowed. She definitely did not like the fact that this damn menu had such an attitude.
Despite the System's snark, a more immediate and primal need asserted itself. "First," she amended in her thoughts, "I need to find a clean water source. This... filth... has to come off." Only then could she even begin to think about clothes and those bewildering missions.
Before she could take even a single step, the System's screen materialized once more, this time filled with a scathing admonition. "I know you lost your memories," it displayed, the text practically dripping with disdain, "but can you actually stop and think for a damn minute? You... a person with no offensive and certainly no defensive capabilities, are going to run all willy-nilly into a dark and dangerous forest that is home to all types of monsters, and they are all different types of levels, which, sad to say, you won't be able to survive."
The words continued, sharp and condescending. "So, since you want to clean up first, how about using my map? I do have one, you know. I am capable of so much more than just giving you information. Here, I thought that despite having your other stats being low, I thought you were smarter because of your high intelligence, but mistakenly, I am wrong, you're a complete imbecile."
For a moment, Seraphina stood there, utterly shocked into silence by the sheer audacity of the System. Then, that shock curdled into something seriously, intensely pissed off. "You're lucky you're not an actual person," Seraphina seethed in her thoughts.
"Why? You going to hit me?" the System instantly shot back, its words cold and mocking. "Must I remind you, you're the weakest thing in this forest. I calculate that a mosquito can do more damage than you."
"Map," Seraphina ground out through gritted teeth, her amethyst eyes blazing with fury at the insulting, infuriating, yet undeniably correct entity.
As the command left her lips, the world around her seemed to shimmer, and a new, larger holographic display unfolded before her. It was a detailed topographical map, rendered in glowing greens and murky blues, showing the complex hybrid of forest and swamp stretching endlessly in every direction. A small, pulsing white dot marked her current position.
Beneath the pulsing white dot, a bold text box appeared: "YOU ARE HERE, IDIOT."
Jagged red outlines pulsed erratically in various zones, accompanied by small, ominous skull icons, clearly indicating areas of high monster concentration and danger levels. Yellow exclamation marks denoted areas of interest. Directly ahead, about a half-mile away through a particularly dense thicket, a vibrant, sparkling blue icon shimmered, unmistakably indicating a clean water source—a narrow, winding stream flowing into a small, clearer pool.
Next to the sparkling blue icon, another text box materialized: "THIS IS WHERE YOU WANT TO GO, MORON."
And at the very bottom of the display, a tiny, almost sarcastic footnote appeared: "Your preferred ablution site. Do try not to be a complete idiot and die on the way there."
Seraphina's amethyst eyes, already blazing with the indignity of her situation, narrowed to dangerous slits as she absorbed the System's latest textual assaults. "Idiot. Moron. Complete idiot." Each word felt like a tiny, unseen punch to her psyche, delivered with smug, undeniable truth. For a solid moment, she stood still, the anger coiling in her gut, hot and suffocating. Her jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached, and a low growl, more animal than human, rumbled deep in her throat. She couldn't punch this insufferable bastard, couldn't even scream at it without making herself look like the "imbecile" it claimed she was.
"You arrogant, condescending thing," she seethed in her mind, a venomous thought she wished could somehow transmit back and fry its... its very essence. The urge to smash the phantom screen was almost unbearable.
But even through the white-hot fury, her pragmatism, fueled by that surprisingly high intelligence stat, asserted itself. The map, for all its insulting labels, was accurate. It showed her way out of this immediate, life-threatening nakedness and filth. It offered survival. The System was a patronizing asshole, but it was her patronizing asshole, and right now, she needed its help.
A cold, steely resolve hardened her features. Fine. Let it call her an idiot. She'd survive this hellhole, she'd get strong, and one day... one day, this "System" would answer to her. Every insulting word would be repaid.
Without another thought, she shoved the lingering rage down, burying it deep, and pivoted, her bare feet instinctively orienting towards the blue shimmering icon. She wouldn't just try not to die; she'd live to spit on this thing's ethereal grave.
With the System's condescending map still hovering just at the edge of her vision, a constant, annoying reminder of her helplessness, Seraphina pushed forward. Each step was a grim effort. The ground beneath her bare feet was a treacherous mix of slick mud, grasping roots, and hidden stones that bit into her soles. Overhead, the ancient tree canopy was so dense it swallowed the already meager moonlight, plunging the swamp-forest into an oppressive, inky blackness that seemed to press in on all sides.
The air was thick and heavy, smelling of damp earth, stagnant water, and the sickly sweet scent of decay. Unseen things rustled in the undergrowth, and distant, guttural cries echoed through the miasma, reminding her of the monster icons that plagued the map. Her exposed skin prickled with the chill of the night and the constant, unnerving feeling of vulnerability. The soreness between her legs, now just a dull ache, was a constant, filthy reminder of her trauma, fueling her desperate need for the water source.
She moved slowly, cautiously, her amethyst eyes straining to pierce the gloom, guided only by the faint, shimmering blue icon on the holographic map that danced just ahead of her. Every muscle screamed, her head still throbbed, and the disgust clung to her like a second skin, but she pressed on, one determined, agonizing step after another. Dying here, now, was not an option.
Suddenly, a heavy, rhythmic thudding vibrated through the swampy ground, growing louder with each beat. Seraphina froze, her eyes snapping to the red pulsating zone on her map that had just expanded, an ominous new skull icon flickering into existence. Her Agility, high even at Level 0, screamed at her. Without conscious thought, she plunged off the barely discernible path, diving headfirst into a dense thicket of thorny, hanging vines and murky, ankle-deep water. Her naked body scraped against rough bark and sharp thorns, but she ignored the new pain, scrambling to pull the thick, dripping foliage around her, making herself as small and still as possible.
A low, guttural snort, heavy with the scent of damp earth and something musky, preceded the appearance of the creature. A colossal shadow, topped with massive, curving horns, lumbered into view just feet from where she hid. It was a Minotaur, its brutish, bull-like head swaying, thick muscles rippling under its shaggy hide as it stamped heavy hooves into the mire. It paused, its massive nostrils flaring, sniffing the air with an almost intelligent intensity. Seraphina held her breath, her heart hammering against her ribs, a frantic drum against the monster's lumbering thuds. On pure instinct, she reached down, scooping handfuls of the cold, viscous mud, smearing it rapidly over her exposed skin, her hair, even her face, desperate to mask her scent. The reek of the swamp was overpowering, thankfully.
The Minotaur snorted again, a deep, frustrated rumble, then, with a final, earth-shaking step, it lumbered onward, its heavy tread slowly fading into the oppressive darkness of the swamp-forest. Seraphina remained perfectly still, a statue of mud and terror, for long minutes after the last echo of its passage died.