The Living System

The cavernous hall swallowed the torchlight, flames flickering against black stone walls carved with ancient runes. The air was cold, laced with ash and moss, as if the Desolate Continent itself exhaled a silent lament. Athos, still reeling, studied the two figures kneeling before him. Their dark robes, embroidered with silver threads, swayed faintly, hoods hiding half their faces. Elves, no doubt—their pointed ears and moon-pale skin gave them away.“Welcome, Master Athos,” said the dark-haired elf, her voice steady but reverent. “I am Lysara, and this is Veyra,” she gestured to her silver-haired companion, whose eyes gleamed like icy stars. “We did not summon you, but an ancient prophecy foretold your arrival. You are the ruler destined to save this world and lead us to glory.”Athos raised an eyebrow, a wry smirk tugging at his lips. “So that ‘last hero’ nonsense was about this? Me, a cheater who hacked ATHOMIS, chosen by a prophecy? Who broke the fourth wall to drag me here?” He chuckled, but the sound echoed hollowly. His mind raced. If this is an isekai, I’ll play their game… or break it.“System,” he thought, testing the waters. A translucent interface flared before his eyes, identical to ATHOMIS’s launcher. Menus, status bars, attribute sliders—it was all there, pulsing with an almost living energy. “Hah! My hack still works,” he muttered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What were they thinking, giving me the universe’s source code?”He turned to the elves, who watched him with a mix of hope and wariness. “Stand,” he commanded, his voice sharper than he’d expected. “And tell me: what’s the mess here?”Lysara rose, her movements graceful but tense. “The Desolate Continent lies in ruins, Master. After the First Great War, our people, the elves of Eryndor, were shattered. Survivors scattered into factions, fighting over scraps of land and resources. Dragons lurk in the mountains, and other races—orcs, humans, renegades—vie for control. The prophecy says the last hero will unite the Seven Kingdoms and bring peace.”Veyra added, her voice a soft whisper: “Only we two know of the prophecy. The other elves no longer believe in hope. But you, Master, can change that.”Athos crossed his arms, processing their words. “So it’s just like where ATHOMIS left off. The Desolate Continent—a chaotic haven for exiles, dragons, and broken elves.” His eyes gleamed. “My blood’s pumping just thinking of the possibilities. First, let’s see if my menu’s working right.”He flashed a confident grin and turned to the dark corridor ahead, where shadows stirred like specters. Monstrous creatures—bony, with glowing eyes—emerged, snarling. Lysara and Veyra readied their curved daggers, but Athos raised a hand. “Leave it to me.”“System,” he thought, manipulating the mental interface. Mana: 1000. Intelligence: 1000. Attack: 5000. A surge of heat coursed through him, as if the air itself obeyed his command. “Let’s see how this works.” He envisioned an attack, no words or gestures needed. Two spears of fire materialized in the air, their flames shifting from vivid red to an unnatural blue. With a flick of his wrist, the spears flew, incinerating the monsters in a burst of ash.Lysara’s eyes widened, her dagger still raised. “No incantations… How is this possible?”Athos laughed, brushing his hands as if he’d just solved a puzzle. “Overkill for those low-tier mobs. Let’s keep moving.”“Yes, Master,” Veyra replied, but her voice trembled, as if she were beginning to question what—or who—Athos truly was.