I stood there, surrounded by trees that felt too tall and too old to care about me.
The forest was alive, but not in a comforting way. Leaves shifted somewhere above, brushing against each other in a slow, unhurried rhythm. The ground beneath my feet was uneven, soft in places, hard in others. Somewhere far away, something let out a short cry and then went silent again.
No one came.
No voice answered.
No invisible hand reached down to explain what was happening or what I was supposed to do next.
I was alone.
The realization crept in gradually, like cold seeping through wet clothes. At first, it was just an uncomfortable thought. Then it became heavier, harder to ignore.
"How am I supposed to survive like this?" I murmured.
The words disappeared into the trees without echo.
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady my breathing. Panic wouldn't help. Running blindly wouldn't help either. I needed to think—needed something to work with.
That was when the air in front of my eyes shimmered.
I stiffened.
Thin lines of pale light appeared, forming a rectangular shape that hovered in the air. It looked almost like a computer screen, except it was transparent. I could still see the forest through it, warped slightly, as if the space itself had been disturbed.
My heart skipped.
"…No way."
For a moment, I was convinced I'd finally lost it. Hallucinations would be easier to accept than whatever this was. Stress could do strange things to the mind. So could shock.
I blinked.
The screen stayed.
Text formed slowly, each letter precise and emotionless.
[Connecting…]
[Activation in progress…]
A quiet certainty settled over me.The light grew brighter, steadier, and more deliberate. I watched it happen, already aware of what it meant."I know this," I said softly.
I had played enough RPGs to recognize the pattern instantly. The floating text. The delay. The activation messages.
A system.
Something designed to help. To guide. To give structure to chaos.
A short, disbelieving laugh escaped me. "So that's how it is."
If this world was going to throw me into the wilderness without warning, at least it had the decency to give me this.
My gaze stayed locked on the screen, waiting for more.
The text shifted.
[Observer System]
"…Observer?" I repeated.
That wasn't a name that inspired confidence. It sounded passive. Detached. But a system was a system. Names didn't matter as much as function.
I waited for the next message. A tutorial. A status window. Anything.
Seconds passed.
Then a full minute.
Then another.
Nothing changed.
"…That's it?" I asked quietly.
The forest remained indifferent.
My excitement began to drain away, replaced by confusion. I waved my hand through the space where the screen had been. There was no resistance. No reaction.
"System," I said, testing it.
Nothing appeared.
"Status."
Silence.
"Stats."
Still nothing.
I frowned. "Shop."
The word felt ridiculous the moment it left my mouth.
Nothing happened.
A tight feeling formed in my chest. "You've got to be kidding me."
If this was supposed to help me survive, it was doing a terrible job. No explanation. No interface. No guidance.
I let out a slow breath and rubbed my face. Maybe I was missing something. Maybe it didn't respond to voice commands. Maybe it worked differently.
As I stood there thinking, my eyes drifted to a nearby tree. It was large, its trunk thick and rough, roots twisting out of the soil like frozen waves. I stared at it absentmindedly, irritation simmering beneath the surface.
The air flickered.
Text appeared again, suddenly enough to make me flinch.
[Name: Emberleaf Tree]
[Type: Plant]
[Level: 2]
"…What?"
The words lingered in the air for a few seconds before slowly fading.
"That's it?" I muttered.
No description. No explanation. No hint of why the name mattered or what the level meant.
Just three cold facts.
A short laugh slipped out, sharp and humorless. "So that's the Observer System."
Not a helper. Not a guide.
Just an observer.
I narrowed my eyes and deliberately focused on the ground near my feet. The grass there was thin and slightly damp, blades bending under my boots.
I stared at it, holding my attention steady.
After a brief pause, text appeared.
[Name: Softblade Grass]
[Type: Plant]
[Level: 1]
After a moment, it faded again.
"…Focus," I said quietly.
So that was the trigger. Not words. Not gestures. Attention.
The realization didn't make me feel safer.
"All you do is tell me names," I said. "You don't tell me what's useful. You don't tell me what's dangerous."
The system, unsurprisingly, did not respond.
I pressed my lips together and forced myself to think. Complaining wouldn't change anything. If this were all I had, then I'd have to make it work.
My priority had to be finding a settlement.
No matter how beautiful or terrifying this forest was, I couldn't survive here forever. I needed a settlement. Somewhere with shelter. Food that didn't involve guessing. Answers.
Then came the obvious problems.
No money.
No identification.
No idea how this world handled strangers.
I checked my pockets again out of habit. Empty. Completely.
"…They're not letting me in for free," I murmured.
If I were guarding a city, I wouldn't.
My gaze dropped to the plants around me. Leaves. Roots. Stems. The forest was full of them.
"If I can't bring money," I said slowly, "I'll have to make it."
Herbs. Plants. Anything that could be sold.
I moved carefully, eyes scanning the ground and undergrowth. Every time something looked different—brighter leaves, thicker stems—I focused.
[Name: Greenveil Herb]
[Type: Plant]
[Level: 2]
I crouched and picked it, turning it over in my fingers. It smelled faintly sharp.
A little farther on—
[Name: Sunroot Leaf]
[Type: Plant]
[Level: 3]
"Fancy names," I muttered.
I had no idea what they did. But names like that sounded valuable. Or at least sellable.
I gathered as many as I could find, stuffing them into my pockets and the fold of my shirt until the fabric pulled uncomfortably. It wasn't much, but it was something.
Once I was done, I straightened and looked around.
Trees in every direction.
I climbed the nearest sturdy one, scraping my palms as I pulled myself up. From the top, the view was disappointing—just endless green, rolling and unbroken.
"No smoke. No rooftops," I sighed.
Back on the ground, I forced myself to stay calm. Settlements needed water. People always built near rivers.
"Alright," I said. "Water first."
Finding it wasn't easy. I followed the slope of the land, watched the ground for worn paths. Eventually, I spotted footprints. They looked almost human—but not quite. Too deep. Too uneven.
"…Not human," I whispered.
Danger.
I snapped a sturdy branch and sharpened one end with a stone, working until it formed a rough point. I pocketed a few stones as well.
After nearly half an hour of cautious walking, I heard it.
Water.
The sound grew clearer as I moved closer, until I found a narrow stream cutting through the forest. I drank carefully, scanning the area the entire time.
Then I followed the stream downstream.
Before long, the trees thinned, and something new appeared.
A road.
Wooden planks formed a bridge over the water, worn smooth by use.
Relief washed over me.
"Finally."
I followed the road and soon spotted a cart approaching. A man sat at the front, guiding a beast I didn't recognize.
I raised a hand. "Hey!"
He slowed and looked me over. "Who are you?"
"A traveler," I said. "I don't know this area. How do I enter the town?"
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Hop on."
As we rode, I asked careful questions. Entry required money or a guild card. Registration cost coin.
When I showed him the plants, he shrugged. "Sell those."
At the gate, the guards escorted me to a shop. The merchant examined the herbs, nodded, and placed coins into my palm.
I paid the toll.
The gate opened.
As I stepped inside the town, one thought was clear in my mind:
This system wouldn't save me.
But if I used it carefully… it might be enough.