Chapter One: The Day the Sky Forgot Him

There were days when waking up felt like dying slower.

Gray light filtered through cracked blinds and carved pale scars across the dusty walls. The room was silent except for the ticking of a crooked clock that had long given up keeping the correct time.

Dust floated aimlessly in the air, stirred only by Mateo's breath. He lay on a thin mattress that sagged under the weight of neglect. His body was still. His eyes open. Not asleep, but not truly awake either.

The ceiling knew more about him than anyone else. He had studied it longer than he had spoken to another human in the past week.

His name was Mateo, and he was twenty six years old. But in that moment, he felt ancient. Not in the body, but in the soul. Worn thin from the quiet ache that had followed him for as long as he could remember. He was the kind of tired that no sleep could fix.

His phone sat on the nightstand like a stone, untouched for hours. Maybe days. He turned his head slowly, as if the act cost him something.

Why does it feel like nothing matters anymore?

The question came not from his lips, but from a deeper place. A place that had long since stopped expecting answers.

He reached for the phone without really deciding to. The screen lit up with a dim glow. No missed calls. No new messages. Just the usual confirmation that no one needed him.

Then the screen flickered.

A strange distortion rippled across the glass, like heat rising from asphalt. Then a burst of light flashed so intensely that Mateo dropped the device.

When he picked it up again, the screen had changed.

YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN
PLAYER: 202435

Mateo stared.

He blinked once, twice. Rubbed his eyes. The words were still there.

"What the hell is this..."

The screen pulsed. The light intensified until it was impossible to look at. A low vibration rattled the phone in his hand. The glow spilled out from the device, filling the room with an eerie blue radiance.

Then the air began to shift.

The walls trembled. The bedframe groaned. Beneath him, a circle of glowing lines drew itself into existence on the mattress, inscribed with symbols he could not read. The wind picked up from nowhere. The light beneath him surged.

Mateo opened his mouth to scream, but the sound never came.

In an instant, he was no longer in his room.

Silence.

Not the kind that comes from a quiet room, but a deeper silence. One that existed before sound.

Mateo stood on nothing, yet he did not fall. He turned his head, but there were no edges to see. No sky. No floor. Just infinite white.

It was not cold. Not warm. Not anything at all.

He felt strangely weightless, as if his body were made of breath and thought.

Then a shape appeared. A light that was not like the others. It took form slowly, descending from above, although there was no up or down. Wings unfolded, vast and luminous, feathers woven from stars.

The being hovered in front of him. Its face was fluid, unreadable, shifting between masculine and feminine. Its presence crushed the air out of Mateo's lungs.

He fell to one knee, not because he wanted to, but because his legs no longer listened.

"Player 202435," the voice said. It did not echo, yet it filled every part of him. "Welcome to the realm between death and survival."

Mateo's mouth opened. Nothing came out.

"Your universe has been entered into judgment. Your world, Earth, designated Pawn 567, is one of many that will contribute champions."

He looked up. The being was too bright to meet directly, and yet he could not look away.

"The multiverse is unraveling. Each world is a thread in a great weave, and too many threads now strain the fabric. The energy that binds existence is finite. We must remove what cannot be sustained."

Mateo felt his heart hammering in his ribs.

"A fixed number of champions have been taken from every inhabited world in your universe. Earth has sent its share. You are one of them."

He found his voice at last, a whisper broken by disbelief.

"And if we die?"

The god like being extended its wings further. Each feather shimmered with the color of forgotten galaxies.

"If the champions from a world all fall before your universe secures survival, that world is erased. Its timeline ends.

If the champions from your entire universe fall, your universe will be erased."

A pause hung in the air, heavier than gravity.

"You will be sent to a world of trials, the first field in a larger contest between universes. There, you will live, fight, and evolve. You will remember everything of your past life. And you will be changed."

"Each of you possesses at least one elemental affinity. Fire. Water. Wind. Stone. Most are born with only one. A few, rarely, may wield two. To command three is nearly unheard of. And four? That is the domain of myth. The more elements you bear, the more your soul stands apart from the norm.

Some of you also carry what we call a special ability. These are soul born traits that cannot be trained, taught, or transferred. They do not follow logic or lineage. They exist only in you. And they are yours alone."

"Special abilities are ranked. E through A are common. S to SSS are rare. Beyond that, SSS plus and Z are singular, mythic. And there is one rank above all, unattainable by mortals. G."

"Abilities ranked SS and above are unique within your universe's cohort. If you possess one, no other player among them will share it. These are known as soul anomalies."

"Your actions will determine your soul level. There are ten major tiers. Mortal. Candidate. Acknowledged. Awakened. Breaker. Ascender. Calamity. Demigod. Divinity. God. You will rise by more than strength. Battle, exploration, understanding, and choice all feed the soul. Skills may awaken with time. But only if the soul is ready."

It raised a hand, and below Mateo's feet, the white nothingness bloomed with light. Sigils traced themselves into the space beneath him.

"Prepare yourself. You are not alone. Every universe has sent its chosen. Within each universe, every galaxy has offered its own. What you are about to enter is the first field of the war for existence."

The light swallowed him whole.

Mateo gasped as air rushed into his lungs. But this air was clean. Sharper. Alive.

He stood barefoot on a high cliff of warm stone. The sky above him rippled with bands of gold and amethyst. Mountains floated in the distance, suspended by invisible hands. Waterfalls spilled over their edges, cascading into luminous clouds far below.

Two suns hung in the sky. One burned red. The other glowed silver.

Around him, others appeared in flashes of blue. Some wore armor. Some looked barely older than children. All of them blinked, confused, breathless. Mateo counted dozens, then hundreds.

And in the sky beyond the cliffs, he saw other plateaus. On them stood beings unlike anything he had ever seen. Creatures made of crystal and mist. Warriors with horns and wings. Entire species from galaxies far beyond Earth.

Then came the chime.

A floating screen blinked into existence in front of him. It shimmered like heat over desert sand.

PLAYER: 202435 UNIVERSE: SEED 314 (IN JUDGMENT) GALAXY: MILKY WAY PLANET: PAWN 567, EARTH ELEMENT: WATER, FIRE, STONE, WIND SPECIAL ABILITY: ??? TIER: MORTAL STATUS: ALIVE FACTION: EARTHSPAWN COLLECTIVE

Mateo stared at it.

"No ability...?"

Others around him began testing their powers.

A girl summoned a small stream of flame to dance between her fingers, one of the basic elemental affinities. Another boy leapt high into the air, riding a current of wind that coiled beneath his boots. A third slammed his fist down and cracked the stone beneath him with a rising pillar of earth.

Then someone vanished.

A ripple of laughter echoed as a tall, silver haired young man flickered back into view, grinning. He looked at his hands in awe.

"Invisibility?" someone gasped.

That was no element. That was a special ability.

Mateo's eyes drifted back to his own status screen. The words glared like a wound.

SPECIAL ABILITY: ???

Mateo clenched his fists. Nothing happened.

Yet something stirred. Deep inside his chest. The ground near his feet shifted slightly. A gust of wind played with his hair. He could feel water in the air. The warmth of fire. The weight of stone.

He looked down at his hands. No glow. No transformation.

But they were not empty.

Whatever this place was, he was part of it now.

And the gods were watching.

He did not know how long he stood there.

The others were moving now. Some tested their powers, others huddled in frightened groups. Mateo stayed near the edge of the cliff, staring out at the horizon, trying to understand what he was seeing.

The world stretched far past what the human eye could comprehend. Cities of impossible scale floated on islands in the sky. Rivers of starlight wound between canyons so deep, they disappeared into the clouds. Colossal beasts roamed forests in the distance, their silhouettes the size of mountains.

The air thrummed with something primal. Not just life. Magic. It pulsed beneath the surface of everything. Breathing. Watching.

Some people cried. Others laughed hysterically. One man dropped to his knees and started praying. Mateo said nothing.

A voice behind him pulled him back.

"You from Earth too?"

Mateo turned. A short haired woman in her thirties stood with her arms crossed, scanning the crowd. She wore military fatigues, her boots stained with the dust of the cliff.

He nodded once.

She gestured at his screen. "No special ability?"

He hesitated, then answered quietly. "No."

She gave a low whistle. "Rough start. I am Lara. Sergeant Lara García. US Army. You?"

"Mateo."

"That is it? No last name?"

He did not answer. She did not press.

"Stick close," she said. "Strength comes later. Right now, survival is all that matters."

She moved on, organizing others with quick commands. Some listened. Others ignored her.

More screens appeared in the air. A translucent blue interface, visible only to each player, floating just ahead of their gaze. Mateo blinked, and the screen responded.

TUTORIAL INITIATED Welcome to Aetheris. You have been granted temporary invincibility for 72 hours. Use this time wisely. Form alliances. Establish camps. Learn the world. Your life is linked to your origin world. If all anchors from ORIGIN WORLD: EARTH fall, that world will be erased. Your universe remains in judgment. If all chosen from your universe fall, your universe will be erased. Day One begins now.

The screen faded.

Mateo's stomach tightened.

That phrase again.

Your survival contributes to the fate of your home.

A tremor rumbled in the stone beneath him. From below the cliff, a stairway began forming, carved out of the rock itself. Not by machines, but by elemental forces, stone rising and melting into shape like clay.

Someone cheered.

More stairways appeared across the sky. Dozens. Hundreds. All leading down into the world below.

It was time to descend.

The group near Mateo began moving cautiously, some helping others, some charging ahead with foolish confidence. He followed slowly, keeping his eyes wide.

The stairs led into a jungle of towering red trees that shimmered with bioluminescent moss. Strange cries echoed in the canopy above. Faint blue insects the size of birds flitted between vines that pulsed with slow light.

It was both beautiful and terrifying.

As night fell, groups began to settle into clearings. They built fires. Shared food conjured from their inventory menus. Talked nervously. Speculated.

Mateo sat at the edge of one such group, saying nothing. Listening.

"Did you see that guy? He teleported twice in a row."

"Yeah, but did you see the girl who froze the entire river? Ice from just a wave of her hand."

"I bet they are A rank at least."

"My cousin is here somewhere. She had healing as her power. Said she might try to start a clinic."

"My little brother was chosen. He is only thirteen."

The conversations blurred into static.

Mateo stared into the fire. He could feel it. Deep in his skin. As if the flame were part of him. He reached toward it.

The fire rose.

Not high. Not violent. But it answered.

He pulled his hand back and looked around. No one had noticed.

Later that night, he wandered away from the camp. A small stream ran nearby. He knelt beside it, cupped the water in his hands.

The surface rippled, then rose to meet him. It flowed upward unnaturally, drawn to his fingers.

He did not speak. Did not smile.

This was not joy. It was confusion. Fear. Hunger for something more.

When he stood, the wind shifted with him. Leaves bent in his direction. A low hum came from the stones beneath his feet.

He could feel them.

All four elements.

And yet.

No ability.

He returned to camp, silent and watchful. Others had started forming groups. Making plans. Some set up tents with summoned tools. Others debated leadership. Lara had already claimed one faction, her military voice cutting through the chaos.

By morning, a message arrived.

GLOBAL SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT All players will receive their Starter Location assignment. Your area has been designated: Sector 14, Zone 7, "Emerald Ravine" You have one cycle to establish shelter, water, and defensive protocol. After this, monsters will begin to appear. Combat is required for survival and advancement. Factions may be formally declared. You may join or create a guild. You may appoint a leader. Training dungeons will open within your sector. Begin.

The message vanished.

People scrambled. There were shouts. Strategy meetings. Talent assessments. Someone volunteered to scout the perimeter. Someone else created a crude map using their inventory ink.

Mateo was not called.

No one asked what he could do.

He did not blame them.

He spent the day helping carry stones. Setting up tents. Clearing brush. A support role.

That night, while others laughed or fought or planned, he stood alone beneath the twin moons and tried again.

He focused on the stone beneath his feet.

It rose.

He lowered it again.

Fire flared from his palm, then died. Wind lifted a leaf toward him. Water circled his wrist like a snake.

Still no system message. No skills. No abilities. No classification.

He clenched his jaw.

"I am not nothing."

The night offered no answer.

But the earth rumbled softly beneath him. The wind pulled tighter around his shoulders. The stream nearby murmured as if in thought, its surface rippling with a presence he could not name.

Somewhere out there, the gods watched.

And perhaps one of them remembered.

Mateo sat down on the cool grass. For a while, he just listened. The world hummed with low music, the kind that came not from sound but from sensation, vibrations in his bones and in the roots beneath his hands.

A whisper of warmth curled near his shoulder. He turned and saw nothing, only air and starlight. Yet the feeling lingered, like something brushing past the veil of the visible.

In the distance, torches flickered where other groups had settled. Each fire marked a pocket of life, of people trying to organize something out of chaos. Some stayed huddled together. Others had already begun constructing shelters from summoned tools, conjured wood, or reinforced stone.

The beginnings of something.

A town. A village. No one had said it out loud.

Not yet.

But he could feel it. The impulse to build. To root. To survive.

He rose and made his way back toward the main camp. A few eyes tracked him as he passed, wary and curious. He did not speak. He did not want to. The silence was heavier now, filled with the burden of a shared fate.

As he approached, Lara's voice cut through the quiet.

"We need perimeter watchers," she said, pointing at a crude map scratched onto a glowing piece of interface stone. "No one travels alone. If you leave, you check in and out. I do not care if your ability is breathing underwater, I want everyone accounted for."

Someone scoffed. "You are not in charge."

She looked up slowly. "No. But I am alive. And I plan to stay that way."

The man did not answer.

Another voice, calmer, offered, "She is right. Order means survival."

Mateo stepped around them and found an unclaimed edge of the clearing. He sat and watched the sky. The twin moons had drifted apart now, leaving a darker space between them where stars began to pour through like silver dust.

He opened his system screen again.

PLAYER: 202435 UNIVERSE: SEED 314 (IN JUDGMENT) GALAXY: MILKY WAY PLANET: PAWN 567, EARTH ELEMENT: WATER, FIRE, STONE, WIND SPECIAL ABILITY: ??? TIER: MORTAL STATUS: ALIVE FACTION: EARTHSPAWN COLLECTIVE

The last line echoed louder now.

Faction.

They were meant to form something. A collective identity. An Earthborn force in a world that had no reason to care about them.

He glanced across the camp.

A boy no older than sixteen was conjuring little shapes from water, spinning them in the air before collapsing them back into the stream. Another person sat alone like him, silent and detached. A few others debated loudly about who should lead, who had what powers, who had seen a monster already in the trees.

Then a sharp crack rang out.

Someone had ignited a branch too close to the tents. Fire rushed up the wood, licking the canvas.

Panic.

Mateo stood.

The others scrambled for water, shouting for anyone with a water element to help.

He walked over slowly. The fire danced like it recognized him. It surged higher.

"Move," he said, voice low.

No one heard.

He raised his hand. Opened his fingers like reaching for rain.

The flame recoiled.

Then, like a breath being drawn inward, the fire collapsed in on itself. A sudden vacuum of heat, light, and noise. Steam hissed from the wood.

Silence.

Mateo stepped back.

They stared at him. No one clapped. No one cheered. But their eyes lingered longer than before.

Lara approached.

"You do have control," she said.

He nodded.

"You do not need a special ability to be useful."

"I know."

She looked at him for a second, then added, "Tomorrow, we need to clear the valley floor and scout the cave system. There are dungeon entrances somewhere below. If you can control fire and earth, we could use that."

Mateo did not answer right away.

Then he said, "Alright."

It was not much.

But it was more than silence.

That night, he lay beneath the open sky. No tent. Just the stars.

He thought of the screen on his phone. Of the room he had vanished from. The cracked blinds. The silence.

Was that world still there, or had it already begun to unravel?

His fingers curled around a stone beside him. It was warm, not from the sun, but from something deeper. Something inside him. The fire, the air, the earth, the water. They did not obey him. They responded. Like old friends being reminded of a name long forgotten.

Mateo closed his eyes.

And in the quiet that followed, a strange feeling rose within him.

Not peace.

But purpose.

He was not sure where it would lead, or who he would become.

But this world, this strange and living place, had not rejected him.

It had accepted him.

And somewhere deep in its marrow, it had remembered him first.