Even My Grandpa Could Do This

Nathan grinned. "Welcome to the party."

Kieran was still staring at his newly revealed UI like it might explode.

His entire demeanor had shifted—brows drawn, shoulders tight, suspicion radiating off him in waves. He looked like a man trying to operate a smartphone with oven mitts, wary of every glowing corner, suspicious of every animation.

Nathan had to bite down a laugh. Even my grandpa would handle this better. To be fair, he’s never seen anything like this, and he doesn’t have my childhood references.

He stepped in closer, practically vibrating, trying to get a better look at what the UI actually displayed. The golden interface hovered before Kieran, its glow sparkling—crisp, premium, annoyingly smug about existing at all. It cast a soft light over Kieran’s face, making him look dangerously majestic in a way Nathan absolutely refused to think about right now.

He leaned in to read the display.

Why are ours so different?

The amount of information slammed into him like a truck.

Designation: Kieran Halcyros
Attribute: Mana
Rank: F

Nathan blinked. “It knows your name? And… F-rank, huh.”

Kieran’s brow twitched. “Should it not? And what does F-rank mean?”

“Mine doesn’t show my name,” Nathan muttered, actually relieved. “And the F… I believe it’s starting you at beginner.”

“Beginner?” Kieran repeated, sounding insulted on a molecular level.

“Just with the interface, sir. I’m sure it meant no offense.”

Kieran crossed his arms, jaw tight, saying nothing.

Nathan cleared his throat and looked back at the numbers.

HP: 142
MP: 48

Strength: 16
Agility: 15
Vitality: 17
Perception: 14
Willpower: 12

HP over a hundred at level zero? Fuck. That’s a tank profile. MP’s low, but he’s a melee type, so that checks out. Agility fifteen. Vitality seventeen. Perception fourteen. That’s like starting the game on pay-to-win.

My stats don’t even have stats.

He doesn’t even know how to level or use this properly. Not that I know either, but I should be able to catch on faster.

Nathan almost smiled, glancing at Kieran out of the corner of his eye.

I could make him into my own character. Have him choose the best. Optimize the build. Min-max this man into oblivion.

He realized he was leaning in way too close and snapped upright.

Kieran shifted, sensing the change in energy. “What?”

Nathan straightened. “What?”

His eyes narrowed. “Draegor, I can feel your gaze. And I do not like the look in your eyes. What is it?”

Nathan flailed mentally and blurted, “Nothing! I was just admiring. Your stats. They’re… very good, sir. Like, unfairly good. Strength sixteen? Vitality seventeen? Honestly, most people would kill to start with numbers like that. You’re basically built for greatness.”

Kieran’s tension eased almost imperceptibly, his shoulders lowering a fraction—a subtle shift, but unmistakable.

“…Ah.”

Nathan swallowed, relieved he’d somehow patched that disaster.

Kieran studied him for a quiet beat. “How do you know that?”

“Know what?” Nathan blinked.

“That the…” He glanced at the glowing panel in front of him. “Numbers are good. Or what is good to start with.”

Shit.

Nathan forced a smile that felt two sizes too small. “I mean… you don’t need a manual to see strong numbers, sir. Even I can tell when something looks impressive.”

Kieran didn’t buy it.
Not fully.

His gaze stayed locked on Nathan, steady and sharp—like a man who'd spent his whole life reading battlefield lies in people’s eyes.

Nathan lifted a hand vaguely toward the interface. “Sixteen strength at the start? Seventeen vitality? That’s… obviously good. Anyone would want that. You’re already ahead of whatever curve this thing expects.”

Kieran straightened slightly. “You don’t need to explain the truth of how you know right now.”

Nathan’s breath hitched.
Right now?
He knows.
He doesn’t know what he knows, but he knows something.
And he’s letting it slide… for now.

Nathan cleared his throat, voice climbing half an octave. “Right. Yes. Okay.”

He continued watching him for one beat too long, not accusing, not hostile, but… aware.

Nathan broke the stare first, snapping his eyes to the next glowing line with desperate enthusiasm.

“Oh—look! There’s more.”

Nathan skimmed the edges of the interface, catching a greyed-out icon in the corner.
When he focused on it, a faint label appeared.

Map: Inaccessible

No map?
He blinked.
…Weird.

He filed that away for later and kept going.

“Those are tabs,” he explained. “They’re like… categories. If you click one, it should open a full page.”

Kieran frowned. “It has pages?”

“Yes, sir. Pages. Tabs. Menus.”
He pointed again. “Try that one that’s already lit up.”

Kieran hesitated long enough that Nathan wondered if he was reconsidering the concept of touching magic light—
then he finally tapped it.

The panel expanded, gold lines branching outward like controlled lightning.

A header appeared:

Warrior
Objective: Engage in combat

Warrior makes sense for him. Let's see.

“Warrior?” Kieran murmured.

Nathan nodded. “That’s the category your interface sorted you into.”

“Why?”

Nathan looked him up and down. “Sir, you’ve been swinging swords and leading people into battle for practically your entire life. This place didn’t decide you’re a warrior. It just recognized what was already there.”

Kieran’s brow eased by half a millimeter.

“Tap this one now, sir.” Nathan pointed.

Kieran exhaled through his nose. “…Very well.”

He tapped the next tab.

The interface page unfolded into a structured skill list.

SKILLS
Weapon Mastery (Basic)
Combat Fundamentals I
Physical Conditioning I
Situational Awareness I
Resolve I

Nathan blinked. “Okay, so you actually have a whole layout. Mine is… never mind.”

There were several other tabs beneath it, faint and locked, with no skills listed. Empty slots waiting for activation.

Kieran nodded toward one of the unlit ones. “And what is this... tab?”

Nathan perked up. “Please click that one, sir.”

Kieran did.

Innate Trait
Threat Instinct (S-Rank)
Automatically prioritizes incoming danger signals, hostile intent, and lethal vectors. Responds before conscious awareness.
Status: Undeveloped

Nathan slapped both hands over his face.
“He’s born with a built-in death detector. Amazing. Incredible. Horrifying. Cheating.”

Kieran lowered the screen a fraction. “…Cheating?”

“YES,” Nathan barked.

“S-rank.” Kieran looked mildly concerned. “Is that significant?”

“Significant?!” Nathan squeaked. “Sir, that’s like being born with a sixth sense dedicated to not dying. You have an actual danger radar. BUILT-IN. How is that fair?!”

Kieran studied the text again. “…Status: Undeveloped.”

“WHICH MEANS IT CAN GROW!” Nathan hopped once in place. “You’re a walking cheat code.”

Kieran blinked slowly. “I thought you said I was an F.”

Nathan’s soul left his body for a second. “You are! I mean—you are in the rank sense, but not—look, rank is just… it’s just the system’s starting point. A formality. A… placeholder.”

Kieran tilted his head the slightest degree. He wasn’t suspicious this time.
He was… waiting.
Patient.
Expectant.

Nathan panicked harder.

“What I mean is—your stats aren’t F. Your presence isn’t F. Your whole… you.” He gestured helplessly at Kieran’s everything. “None of that is F.”

Kieran remained perfectly still, absorbing it with quiet, unnerving calm.

Nathan kept digging. “F-rank is just the interface saying, ‘Hey, we’re starting from square one.’ But the moment it looked under the hood it immediately went, ‘S-RANK TRAIT, SOUND THE ALARMS, THIS MAN IS BUILT DIFFERENT.’”

A tiny crease formed between Kieran’s brows. “Built different.”

“Yes!” Nathan jabbed a finger toward him. “Exactly that. You’re—look, some people start with talent trees. You start with… a warning label.”

Kieran exhaled slowly. Not annoyed.
Not confused.
More like… accepting.

“I see.”

Nathan blinked. “You… do?”

“I understand that you know more about this than you wish to say.” Kieran’s tone was matter-of-fact, not accusing. “And I understand that you are trying—poorly—to keep me calm.”

Nathan opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Kieran returned his attention to the glowing screen. “Your panic is unnecessary.”

Nathan stared. “…It feels very necessary.”

“Draegor,” Kieran said, voice quiet but certain, “if this... interface believes I am both F and S then I will simply ascend from one to the other.”

Nathan made a sound halfway between a squeak and a gasp.
He is so fucking cool. Or hot? Both? Why is this happening to me.

He absolutely would ascend.
And the system knew it.

Before Nathan could gather what remained of his dignity, he heard the familiar noise.

CHIME

Notice: Companion’s interface is now active.

No, shit. What is all...

Companion can now level.
Companion is disconnected from detectable system network.
Companion will not receive map or quest data.
Companion will receive objectives for leveling based on encounters and situational awareness.

Nathan blinked at it. “…Sorry. What?”

Kieran glanced over. “What is it now?”

CHIME

Add companion to your party?

[ Yes ] [ No ]

Not this again!

Nathan held up a finger, staring at the message.
“You're… not getting quests. Or a map. Or, uh—anything. Apparently.”

Kieran frowned. “Why?”

“I—I don’t know! My interface is telling me you’re on the ‘figure it out yourself’ plan. And asking if I should add you to… my party.”

“A party?”

“My party. My… companion. Again. But, like, linked together.”

Kieran’s expression barely shifted, but Nathan felt the quiet offense radiating from him like heat.

“This feels familiar,” Kieran said.

“Yes, it’s giving flashbacks to when the system bullied me into registering you as my companion.”

Kieran looked at the notification. Considered.
“Go ahead.”

“Just like that?”

“As I stated before, the tutorial seemed to respond only to you. It will likely continue that way.”

“That sounds… accurate. Okay. Doing it.”

Nathan selected Yes.

CHIME

Hint: Browse your new features, adventurer!

Nathan stared.

“What? I’m still getting hints? I can’t turn off the chime, and now I can’t even turn off hints? That was supposed to end with the tutorial!”

He dragged a hand down his face.
“Unbelievable. I am being haunted by tooltips.”

Out of bitter curiosity, he flicked open his own UI.

And froze.

“…What the hell is that?”

A new tab pulsed weakly in the corner of his sad little blue screen:

RANK PROGRESSION

Not a tree.
Not branches.
Not golden pathways.

Just… ranks? Maybe?

Metal names.
Tier symbols.
No explanation.

A UI that looked halfway between a mobile gacha menu and an achievement tracker from 2010.

Nathan tapped the first symbol.

CHIME

Rank: Iron Initiate
Progress: 14%
Keep leveling to unlock the next tier!

“…Iron? What is this, metallurgy school?”

CHIME

Hint: Explore and complete objectives to reach bronze!

Nathan choked on air.

“BRONZE?! What am I RIGHT NOW? Iron?!”

He swiped to the next preview.

CHIME

Next Rank Preview: Steel Adept
Power equivalence: Undefined
Description: Increase overall proficiency

“UNDEFINED? Increase proficiency in WHAT?! Why is nothing explained?!”

Kieran leaned slightly forward. “Is that… your advancement system?”

“No,” Nathan hissed. “This is a spreadsheet wearing a Halloween costume.”

He tapped another icon.

CHIME

Argent Candidate
Description: Prestige
Status: Locked
Requirements: ???

“Question marks? REALLY? And what the hell is argent? Is that a prestige metal? A fantasy coupon tier? Your system hands you S-Rank instincts. Mine hands me riddles.”

“Perhaps it is meant to test you,” Kieran suggested.

“It is testing me. Psychologically. Emotionally. Spiritually.”

He flipped to the last preview badge:

Iridesium Resolve
Description: Prototype tier detected
Requirements: Leveling
Note: Tier not equivalent to standard rankings
Additional Info: Functionality pending user development

Nathan stared at it.

“…Prototype? Pending development? Why is my rank still in beta?!”

He slapped both hands over his face.
“WHY ARE YOU SHOWING ME TIERS THAT DON’T EVEN WORK YET?!”

Kieran looked genuinely sympathetic.
“…Mine seems simpler.”

“OH REALLY? DOES IT, SIR?!”

Nathan flicked open the rank tab again, fueled by spite—
and froze.

A tiny tooltip flickered in the corner:

Note: Rank system in early developmental phase. No standardized classification exists.

“NO STANDARDIZATION?! YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT! EVERYTHING HAS A STANDARD!”

Kieran stood a step back and folded his arms, unimpressed. “Those noises are excessive.”

Nathan wasn’t sure if he meant the CHIME or his own yelling.

Nathan wheezed, “I AM IN UI HELL, SIR.”

***

CHIME

Hint: Quest still active. Use your expanded world map!

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Expanded? Sure. Let’s see what counts as ‘expanded’ for my bargain-bin UI.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “This interface hates me. Personally.”

When he opened the map, the same sad pale-blue rectangle unfolded.

It showed maybe a five-mile radius.
A single white dot blinked at the center.

“…Is that it? A ‘you are here’ sticker? Seriously?”

Nathan tried zooming out.
Nothing happened.

He squished his fingers together harder, dragging across the screen like he was trying to physically bully the map into cooperating.

The fog shuddered half a pixel.

Nathan hissed, “Oh, NOW you move? Janky little piece of—”

CHIME

Hint: More map is revealed as you explore!

“…Of course it is.”

He zoomed again out of spite.
The dot vibrated like it was judging him.

A marker finally pulsed at the outer edge:

GRAYSTONE (32 miles)
Note: Proceed on foot!

“Thirty-two miles… in what imaginary metric system?” Nathan hissed. “And thanks, I already knew that. How generous of you to remind me with a map that shows—”
He threw both hands at the fog. “—NOTHING.”

Kieran leaned closer.
“…Your interface appears… minimal.”

“Minimal? Sir, mine looks like a demo version they forgot to patch.”

Nathan zoomed, dragged, rotated—nothing but wobbling fog mocking him with every movement.

Kieran stepped back. “…Your world map is inconclusive.”

Nathan pointed both hands at his disappointing screen.
“WORLD map? Sir, this is a TWO-DOT HOSTAGE SITUATION.”

CHIME

Hint: Follow the road to Graystone, adventurer!

Nathan snarled, “I AM LOSING MY MIND. Even the city name could’ve just been ‘City One.’ This map wouldn’t know the difference if it tried.”

Kieran glanced at the hovering hint. “It seems insistent that we go to this Graystone.”

Nathan dragged a hand down his face. “Yeah. I get it. Explore to reveal. Fine.”

Kieran questioned. “…Explore?”

“The quest. The objectives.” Nathan threw both hands up in surrender. “My hands are tied. We actually have to move if I want this bargain-bin map to show anything.”

He finally tore his eyes off his miserable UI and turned around—
and froze.

Right. He’d been so wrapped up in screaming at rectangles that he’d forgotten where they were.

The town square looked exactly the same as when they’d first arrived.

Silent.
Still.
Not a single NPC in sight.

Nathan’s shoulders sank. “…I didn’t think it would just revert back to… this. Empty ghost village again. It’s strange that they’re all just gone.”

“You said they were fake.” Kieran scanned the vacant square, jaw tightening in subtle disapproval.

“I mean, yes…” Nathan stopped.

What do I mean? What does it matter that they are gone? This was probably always meant to happen at the end of the tutorial.

“…Yeah, they were fake. It was sometimes nice having the background noise, though.”

Kieran just nodded. “Are we going to begin, then?”

“Begin what?”

“The quest.” He glanced down at his empty hands. “I do not have a weapon.”

“Oh. Right. That’s—hang on.” Nathan opened the UI. The familiar grid flickered up, weak but usable. “Okay, sir—one moment.”

He tapped the Adventurer’s Pack reward.

Two packs materialized at his feet with a soft thump. Each bulged with gear. Most importantly, two swords were stacked next to the packs.

Nathan crouched and opened the first one. Inside lay provisions, tools, cloaks… and weapons sheathed neatly along the inside lining.

“They really do come pre-loaded.” He pulled one pack toward himself and shoved the other into Kieran’s hands. “Here. Yours.” He reached down and grabbed one of the swords. “And a sword.”

He handed it to Kieran.

Kieran tested the blade with one smooth motion, shoulders easing like someone slipping into a well-worn coat.

“Better,” he murmured.

Nathan’s eyes lingered a second too long.

He cleared his throat and tried to refocus.

“Before we leave, sir, I just… want to check one thing.”

CHIME

Hint: You are all set to begin, adventurer!

“I KNOW,” Nathan snapped at it. “You’ve made that VERY fucking clear.”

“Fucking,” Kieran repeated. “You say that a lot. And fuck. What is the significance?”

Nathan’s head whipped around. “Say that again. Say fuck.”

Kieran stared at him, brow tightening with suspicion. But he complied, voice low, steady, deliberate.

“…Fuck.”

OH MY GOD. Completely official now. One hundred percent. No doubt. I mean, I knew that earlier, but forgot—wow, it’s so sexy hearing him say fuck for some reason.
I really am hearing him in English.
He is definitely speaking like normal, but I hear it in English.

His mind shot backward—
a flicker of memory like a cracked lantern.

Nyx leaning in, trying to parrot him.
fuhh-king.

Even Dane had given it a whirl.

Are they all okay—

“Well?”

Nathan jolted. “Oh—uh—it’s like ‘shit’ or ‘damn’. ‘Fuck’ is just… the nuclear option of swear words.”

Kieran considered that, gaze steady. “It is a swear word?”

“Yes. Or curse word,” Nathan whispered. “A strong one.”

Kieran nodded once, thoughtful.

“Fuck.”

Nathan slapped a hand over his face. “Stop saying it like you’re evaluating the craftsmanship.”

“I like it,” Kieran said simply. “Short. Direct. Versatile. What language is it?”

“It’s—uh—I picked it up in… on my travels through…”
Come on, Nathan, remember something. Anything Ronan and Nyx taught you.
“…Venthane.”

“Venthane? Rough place.”

“Mhmm, yeah.”
Never been there in my life, and I hope I never see it.

Kieran studied him a moment longer, gaze steady in that way that made Nathan feel extremely seen. “You said you needed to look at something?”

“Huh?” Nathan blinked. “Oh! Right. Yes. Thanks. The door.”

Kieran’s brow tightened. “The door?”

“The one on the hilltop.”

After a beat: “Why?”

Nathan started walking in the direction.

Kieran followed.

Nathan talked over his shoulder. “Oh—sir, you don’t need to come.”

“What else am I going to do?” Kieran said, easily matching his pace. “You are the one with the map. And the quest.”

“Uh. Right.”

“So,” Kieran continued, “why are you going to look at it?”

“I don’t know. A glitch in the universe? Surprise second seam? Some wormhole mercy?”

“I rarely understand you,” Kieran said. “I have checked that door many times already.”

They passed under the entry sign.

Nathan blinked. “Ah. That was part of your nightly routine?”

Kieran cleared his throat. “Yes. I wanted to confirm.”

“Well… just one last time before we venture off into the unknown?”

“There won’t be anything different.”

“Okay. I’ll be fast.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

When they arrived, it looked exactly the same as when they’d entered this place.

Nathan pressed his hand to the frame.

Nothing.

He opened it.

He leaned forward and stuck his head through, as if expecting a portal to eat him.

Still nothing.

He stepped back, frowned, then tried again—tapping the frame like someone trying to wake up a sleeping tablet.

Behind him, Kieran asked, “…What exactly are you testing?” He paused. “It is a doorframe.”

“Yes. I KNOW it’s a doorframe. But this world keeps changing rules, so—”
Nathan pushed on the empty space again. “Just checking.”

Nathan sighed, brushing his fingers along the wood grain.
“Yeah. Same as always. Still just a door.”

“You expected otherwise?”

“I don’t know.” He stepped back. “Glitch in the matrix? Secret exit? A mercy patch?”

Kieran said bluntly, “We are stuck here.”
After a quiet moment, he added, “We should be going now.”

“Yeah,” Nathan said softly. “I know. I’m ready.”

He turned away, trying not to feel the weight of what this meant.
How long will we be here?
What even counts as progress?
Why do we have two different systems?
Where is all this leading?

They headed back toward the village, needing to reach the opposite side to get onto the road that supposedly would let them leave now—the road toward Graystone.

Stupid, useless map.

Kieran halted full stop.

Nathan nearly ran into him.

Kieran was staring up at the village entry sign.

“Sir?”

“I can read this now. It is no longer in glyphs.”
He stared at it, stunned.

Nathan’s stomach did a slow, miserable flip.
Right. Of course. The system translates. He just… hadn’t noticed until now.

Kieran spoke without looking away. “Draegor. Why can I read it now?”

Nathan swallowed. “Uhm… must have something to do with your interface, sir.”

Kieran finally turned toward him, eyes sharp with too many questions and not enough answers.

Nathan felt the weight of that stare hit like a hammer.

“You mentioned translate before,” Kieran said. “Is this part of that?”

“Yes. It’s that…”
Nathan didn’t supply anything else.

They stared at each other.
Nathan’s heart was beating fast.
I don’t have the bandwidth to have this discussion. Not right now.

Kieran held the silence a beat longer, then said quietly, “We will talk about it once we are on our way. We have a long walk.”

“Oh my GOD,” Nathan groaned. “If you give me ONE more hint—WAIT.”

He froze.

What is that?
Why haven’t I seen it before?

There, in the top corner of his screen, sat a tiny icon.

That looks suspiciously like…

“…No way. It can’t be.”

He tapped it.

CHIME
Muted (not recommended)

Nathan’s eyes widened.

“I don’t care if it’s not recommended,” he whispered, reverent. “I have tasted peace.”

Kieran frowned. “What did you do?”

Nathan exhaled like he’d been released from a lifetime sentence.
“I muted the chime.”

Kieran considered this. “Muted?”

“Turned off the sound. There was a button!”

“Why did you not do that earlier?”

“It wasn’t there before!”

Kieran gave a single nod. “Enough. We should go.”

Nathan blinked. “Right. Yes. Moving. Perfect.”

No more chimes.
Sad that one little thing can make me so happy.
There is so much shit to deal with.
I'll take it as a win.

They made their way through the village. In the square, Nathan briefly considered going to the inn. Then remembered the packs had everything they needed, and he didn’t own anything in that inn. Nothing that mattered.

He glanced at the obelisk one last time.
Kieran was already crossing the opposite end of the square.

Nathan thought about the tutorial.
The arena.
That obnoxious announcer.

What even was that guy?
What was the point of any of this?
Of the synchronization?

“Draegor! Move.”

“Coming!”

He jogged forward—then turned back, flipped off the obelisk, and muttered, “Good riddance.”

He caught up to Kieran, and they kept walking. The cobblestones faded into hard-packed dirt. The fences on either side of the path ended.

Kieran stopped.

Nathan halted beside him. “What now?”

“This is the point I was never able to cross before. As far as I could go.”

He’s savoring the moment.
Adorable.

“After you.” Nathan gestured.

Kieran nodded once.

He stepped past the invisible line like it was the biggest step of his life.

“The barrier is gone.”

“Good.” Nathan followed as soon as he took one step past where the barrier had been—his UI flickered to life.

No chime. It's transcendental.

Notice: Now entering Story Mode

Features Enabled
Enhanced prompt frequency
Expanded hints (muted)
Narrative progression tracking
World-state alterations
Note: More features will become available

Nathan stared at it.
What in the fuck…

Kieran asked, “What now?”

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“…It says we’re entering story mode.”

Kieran blinked once. “Is that good?”

“It’s… something. I have no clue what it means.” Nathan rubbed his eyes. “I muted the chime just in time for my life to get worse.”

“Can you disable it?” Kieran asked.

“No. Not even an option to decline.”

Kieran gave a short nod. “Then we will deal with issues as they arise.”

“Alright, sir. Not like I can do anything else.”

Kieran nodded again, sword at his side, expression steady.

Nathan sighed, resigned and exhausted.

“Great. Story mode. Wonderful.”

They resumed walking down the dirt road, as the fogged-out map grudgingly revealed a sliver more of terrain—
and Nathan muttered, “…I already know I’m going to hate this.”

“No other option than forward,” Kieran said. “Keep moving, Draegor.”

“Yeah, yeah, and stop sounding so happy.”

“I am not happy,” he said over his shoulder. “I simply think this is the start of a long journey. My curiosity may be… sated.”

Nathan blinked. “…That’s your version of happy, sir.”

Kieran didn’t slow. “No. It is my version of prepared.”