The alarm buzzed, and for a moment, I wished it wouldn’t stop. That harsh, droning sound—it reminded me that I was still here, still existing. I silenced it anyway, like every other morning, dragging myself out of bed into another day I couldn’t wait to forget.
The apartment around me felt more like a storage unit for failures than a home. I didn’t need to look in the mirror to know what I’d see—just the same pale, tired face staring back. What was the point? It wasn’t like anyone else would be looking at me.
Routine carried me forward. Brush my teeth, throw on whatever clothes didn’t smell too bad, leave. Outside, the city was alive, bustling with motion and sound. People had purpose, energy, life. But me? I walked through it all like a ghost, barely noticed, barely there.
Work wasn’t much different. Loading boxes. Sorting. Clocking in and out like a machine. I wasn’t bitter about it, not really. At least the monotony gave me something to focus on, something to keep me from thinking too much. Thinking hurt.
Lunchtime came and went. I sat alone, as always, nibbling at a sandwich that tasted like cardboard. Across the room, coworkers laughed and chatted, their voices a warm hum I couldn’t bring myself to join. It wasn’t their fault. They’d tried before, asking me to come out, to open up. I’d just… shut them out. It was easier that way. Less disappointing for everyone involved.
When the day ended, I walked home beneath a sky that threatened rain, the kind of gray that settled deep into your bones. My mind wandered, as it often did, to places I’d rather avoid. To her—my mother. I never even called her anymore, even though I knew she was waiting. I could picture her face so clearly: the soft smile she wore to hide her worry.
Then there were my friends—or what few I had. I’d let them slip away, one by one, too afraid to let them see how hollow I’d become. And the dreams I used to have… they felt like they belonged to someone else entirely. Architecture, art, creating things that lasted. How could I build anything when I was falling apart myself?
The streetlights flickered as I crossed the intersection, my thoughts tangled in regrets and what-ifs.
I didn’t hear the truck until the screech of tires shattered the quiet.
My head snapped up, and my heart froze as blinding headlights bore down on me.
“You’ve gotta be—”
The words barely left my lips before the deafening crunch of metal consumed everything.
Reality splintered in a way that felt eerily unnatural. Shapes blurred and shifted, breaking into jagged fragments like shattering glass. Yet beneath it all, there was something cold and rhythmic—a faint grinding hum, steady like gears turning somewhere in the distance.
The distortion crept into my memories as they resurfaced one by one. Mom’s worried face lingered, her smile flickering like a fading reflection. Laughter echoed—my best friend’s voice—warped and distant. A notebook filled with forgotten sketches materialized briefly, then crumbled into the void.
And then… silence.
The first thing I noticed was the silence.
It wasn’t the peaceful kind. It was suffocating, crushing, like the world had stopped, and I was the only thing left in it. My mind raced as I tried to understand what was happening.
I moved—or at least I thought I did—but the sensation was wrong. Heavy. Alien. I tried to take a breath, to calm myself, but nothing happened. My chest didn’t rise. My lungs didn’t fill.
What the hell?!
I reached for my face—or tried to. When I saw what moved in front of me, my stomach dropped. It wasn’t a hand. It was some kind of claw, thick and jagged, glowing faintly with green light seeping from cracks in the stone.
No. No, no, no.
I flexed the claw, watching the three prongs scrape against each other with a metallic whine. Panic flared as the sound echoed, too sharp, too loud. My mind screamed that this wasn’t real, couldn’t be real—but the weight of the claw said otherwise.
I tried to step back, and that’s when I felt it—the grinding hum of something mechanical. My body shifted, and I heard it: a *clank*, followed by the soft whir of wheels spinning beneath me.
Wheels?
I looked down, and terror stabbed through me. My legs—no, they weren’t legs anymore. Three hulking, metallic limbs jutted from beneath me, each ending in a glowing wheel that moved with an eerie precision. They didn’t feel like mine. They couldn’t be mine.
What is this?!
I staggered—or stumbled? It wasn’t even walking. The wheels turned effortlessly, but the sheer mass of my body weighed on me like a nightmare. The more I moved, the more I felt the alien hum, the vibrations of gears and mechanisms that didn’t belong in me.
I raised an arm again, desperate to find something normal, something human. Instead, I saw the claw, the jagged cracks glowing in rhythm with the rest of my blocky, stone body. The green light pulsed like a heartbeat, but it wasn’t warm—it was cold, sharp, mechanical.
This isn’t real. This isn’t real. Wake up!
But I couldn’t wake up. The cavern around me began to take shape, its jagged walls bathed in the same neon green light. Runes flickered along the stone, pulsing in perfect sync with the glow running through my body. It felt like the light wasn’t just *around* me—it was *in* me, alive and driving me forward.
I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I didn’t even have a mouth.
Oh God. Oh no.
I couldn’t stop moving. My legs—those wheels—kept adjusting, gliding over the uneven ground like they had a mind of their own. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t understand what had happened to me.
What am I?!
The pulsing light whispered its answer in the back of my mind, steady and unrelenting. I was alive. Somehow. But whatever I had become wasn’t human. Not anymore.
The pulsing green glow dimmed, leaving the cavern in a heavy silence. For a fleeting moment, I felt like I could gather my thoughts, maybe even cling to some shred of normalcy. Then, out of nowhere, the light flared again, brighter and more vivid, but this time it wasn’t coming from me.
A square panel flickered into existence right in front of me. It hovered in the air like it belonged there, framed by a faint shimmer, its surface etched with glowing green text.
What the…?
The panel didn’t wait for me to figure it out. Lines of crisp lettering began to form, sharp and legible despite the chaos swirling in my head.
---
**STATUS: ACTIVE**
**Name:** Elliot (Recalibrating…)
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
**Race:** Golem (Enhanced Variant)
**Level:** 1
**Core Integrity:** 100% (Stable)
**Energy Reserves:** 80% (Recharging)
**Physical Structure:** Modular Stone Composite
**Mobility:** Modular Omni-Configuration: All body components are adaptable, allowing detachment and reassembly for various functions.
**Attributes:**
- **Strength:** Tier 3
- **Dexterity:** Tier 1
- **Endurance:** Tier 4
- **Intelligence:** Tier 2
- **Charisma:** Tier 1
**Abilities:**
- **Core Pulse (Active):** Emit a focused burst of energy to disrupt enemies within range.
- **Stonewall (Passive):** Increased resistance to physical damage.
- **Auto-Stabilization (Passive):** Self-righting mechanism reduces risk of falling.
- **Modular Shift (Active):** Detach and reposition body components for unique advantages in combat or traversal.
---
It hung there, silent and patient, as if expecting me to take it all in. I stared at it, trying to make sense of the words in front of me. Status? Level? *Abilities?*
My mind reeled. This was the stuff of games, RPGs that I used to play when I wanted to escape reality. But now, the heavy weight of my stone limbs, the grinding hum of the mechanical wheels beneath me—those were my reality.
I fixated on one line: **Modular Omni-Configuration.** Modular. Adaptable. The thought sent a chill—or at least something *like* a chill—through me. My body wasn’t just alien—it could pull itself apart and put itself back together?
I wanted to scream, but I didn’t have a mouth.
The window flickered, its text shifting before I could process any more of it. A single new line of glowing script appeared at the bottom:
---
**Objective Assigned:**
**Establish a Foundation.**
---
Establish a foundation? My gaze shifted to the cavern around me. The jagged stone walls, flickering runes, and yawning emptiness loomed over me like a challenge.
A foundation… here? What did it mean? Was I supposed to build something? Live here? Did the system—the *whatever this was*—expect me to turn this empty cavern into… what, a home?
The silence felt heavier now, pressing down on me like the green light itself. I didn’t have answers, only questions, but standing still wasn’t getting me anywhere.
I took a shaky step—or more of a lurch—my wheels humming softly as they adjusted. The cavern glowed faintly in response, the light seeming to urge me forward.
I didn’t know what lay ahead, but it was clear that this strange new existence had already made its first demand.
The cavern stretched endlessly ahead, the green glow from its jagged walls pulsating softly. My thoughts were scattered, tumbling over each other as I tried to process what had happened to me. But one thing stood out—the light.
It wasn’t just there, illuminating the space around me. It pulsed, flickering in rhythm, guiding my focus deeper into the cavern. Every time I hesitated, its glow seemed to intensify, pulling at the edges of my awareness.
I took a few more clanking steps forward, my three legs adjusting awkwardly to the uneven ground. The wheels beneath them hummed softly with each motion, but I hardly noticed. The light—it wanted me to move. I couldn’t explain it, but the sensation was unmistakable.
Then I saw it: a collapsed mound of rubble blocking the path ahead. A jagged mass of stones and debris, wedged tightly together.
I stopped dead, staring at the blockage. The soft pulse of the green glow radiating from the walls flared brighter for a moment, like a signal, then dimmed again. It felt like the cavern was pointing me forward—as if this pile of rocks wasn’t the end, just another barrier to overcome.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I scanned the rubble, hoping for some magical way around it. Nothing. The tunnel was too narrow to skirt the edges, too solid to break through easily. My clawed limbs twitched as I stared at the mess, the glow reflecting faintly off the jagged surfaces.
The pulse of the light came again—stronger this time, a steady insistence I couldn’t ignore.
“Fine,” I muttered silently to myself, though no words escaped my head. “I guess we’re doing this.”
I raised one of my clawed arms, the prongs scraping together with a metallic rasp. The first swing came down hard on the rubble, cracking off a chunk of stone. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
The next few swings felt clumsy, awkward—like someone operating a crane for the first time. Every strike made the wheels beneath my legs shift and adjust to balance my heavy frame, and every adjustment sent an echoing *clank* through the cavern. Slowly but surely, the pile began to shift.
Sweat. I should’ve been sweating. My body should’ve been aching from the effort. But there was nothing—only the grinding sound of claws on rock and the faint hum of my own modular frame.
Then I saw it: a faint shimmer buried deep within the rubble.
I froze, my claw hovering over the glowing object. Its soft blue light stood out sharply against the green glow of the cavern walls. Without hesitation, I cleared the remaining stones, revealing a smooth crystal radiating a pulsating energy.
I reached for it cautiously, my clawed hand wrapping around it with surprising ease. It felt cool, the faint energy thrumming against the cracks in my stone body. The moment I touched it, the status window flickered back into view:
---
**Resource Acquired:** Mana Crystal
---
Mana Crystal. The green light around me pulsed again, softer now, as if satisfied. The same light that had been urging me forward since the beginning.
I stared at the crystal in my clawed hand. It wasn’t just a glowing rock—it was the start. A step toward whatever the system wanted from me.
The message etched into my mind resurfaced: **Establish a Foundation.**
I clutched the crystal tightly and turned back to the path ahead. The rubble was cleared, and the cavern stretched deeper into the unknown. Whatever this foundation was supposed to be, the light clearly wasn’t going to let me stop.
The cavern stretched deeper into the unknown, its jagged walls glowing faintly with that ever-present green light. My thoughts were scattered, tumbling over each other as I tried to process what had happened to me. But one thing stood out—the light.
It wasn’t just there, illuminating the space around me. It pulsed, flickering in rhythm, guiding my focus deeper into the cavern. Every time I hesitated, its glow seemed to intensify, pulling at the edges of my awareness.
I forced myself to keep going. The wheels at the base of my legs hummed softly as they spun, carrying me forward over the uneven ground. It wasn’t smooth, not by a long shot—every rock and dip in the terrain sent jarring vibrations up through my heavy stone body. The whole thing felt alien and unnatural, but I didn’t have a choice.
Then it hit me. Or, rather, it *didn’t*.
The pulse of energy thrumming through me—the steady hum that had been keeping me moving—faltered. The light running through the cracks in my body dimmed, just slightly at first, but enough to make my wheels stutter.
What’s happening?
I tried to pick up speed, to push forward, but the resistance was palpable. The hum of my wheels faded, and every turn felt heavier, slower, like dragging dead weight through mud.
The status window blinked into view, its sharp text flickering faintly:
---
**Energy Reserves:** 45% (Critical Depletion Imminent)
---
Critical depletion? My nonexistent stomach twisted at the words. What would happen if I hit zero? Would I shut down? Would I just… stop?
The wheels beneath me groaned as they carried my body forward, the rhythm faltering with every rotation. My energy reserves were draining too fast, dimming the green glow running through the cracks in my stone shell. Each rotation of my wheels felt heavier, slower, like dragging myself through quicksand.
Then the pulse came again. The green light along the walls flared briefly, guiding my focus forward like a rope tied around my core. My vision flickered slightly, the glow within me dimming with every agonizing movement. Finally, I saw it—a faint shimmer.
The Mana Crystal revealed itself as I approached, embedded in the wall, glowing faintly as if waiting for me. Its translucent surface hummed softly, pulsating with an energy I could feel in my claws. The status window appeared as I grabbed it:
---
**Resource Acquired:** Mana Crystal
**Would you like to consume this resource to recharge your energy reserves?**
[YES] / [NO]
---
Consume it. My claws tightened instinctively around the crystal, the choice clear. I willed the system to respond: **YES.**
The crystal’s energy surged into me, sharp and electric, overwhelming as it filled the cracks in my body. My glow brightened instantly, and my wheels turned smoothly again. Relief washed over me—not warm or comforting, but a mechanical certainty. The crystal dissolved, leaving only its faint memory behind.
With my energy restored, I followed the green light deeper into the cavern. My wheels hummed steadily as the tunnel widened, its jagged walls smoothing into towering, rune-etched stone. Cool air pressed against me, heavy and expectant, until the path opened into a massive chamber.
This was it—the foundation’s site. The chamber stretched high above, alive with green light flickering softly. At its center lay a wide, circular platform, carved with intricate runes radiating faint energy. The sight sent a strange, comforting pulse through my core, as if I’d found what I was looking for.
I rolled onto the platform, the hum of my wheels echoing in the empty space. The green glow around me intensified, illuminating every inch of the chamber. The status window blinked into view again, sharper and more direct than ever before:
---
**Foundation Site Discovered:**
Would you like to begin construction of the **Energy Generator Module**?
Cost: 1 Mana Crystal
[YES] / [NO]
---
My core hummed faintly as I stared at the prompt. One of the crystals I had collected—it wasn’t just glowing rocks anymore. I tightened my claws, pulling out one of the crystals I’d stored during my journey. Its pale blue glow flickered softly in my grip, its energy buzzing faintly against my frame.
The green light surrounding me pulsed, urging me onward. I placed the crystal at the center of the platform, watching as its glow merged with the runes etched into the stone.
The status window shifted once more:
---
**Construction Initiated: Energy Generator Module**
Estimated Completion: 60 Seconds
---
As the countdown began, the platform rumbled beneath me. The crystal’s glow spread outward, its energy weaving through the runes and rising in faint beams of light. The chamber felt alive, its pulse syncing with my own core as the generator began to take shape.
The platform rumbled beneath me, faint vibrations traveling up through my frame. I felt their weight more keenly now, as if the trembling stone beneath me mirrored my own growing uncertainty. The crystal’s energy flowed outward, weaving through the runes like veins carrying lifeblood. Light rose from the platform in beams, spiraling upward as the green glow of the chamber intensified.
Piece by piece, the generator began to take shape. Blocks of stone lifted themselves from the platform, aligning with an unnatural precision as the glow molded them into place. Energy coursed through the structure, binding it together with the same rhythmic pulse I felt in my core.
The sight should’ve been reassuring—a sign of progress—but a part of me couldn’t relax. My claws flexed reflexively, their jagged edges scraping against each other with a grating sound. What was I building? I didn’t fully understand it, or what it might demand of me later. Every vibration of the platform beneath me felt like a whisper of warning.
When the rumbling subsided and the final piece settled into place, the status window flickered once more:
---
**Energy Generator Module Constructed**
Energy Reserves Recharge Enabled
---
The hum of the generator filled the chamber, steady and rhythmic, syncing faintly with the pulse of my core. It should’ve been comforting, and part of me did feel relief—a mechanical certainty that at least I wouldn’t shut down anytime soon. But that relief came with a strange weight, a reminder that this was only the beginning.
Before I could fully process the completion, the status window appeared again, commanding my attention:
---
**Quest Complete:** Establish a Foundation
Reward: Blueprint Package Unlocked
---
Blueprints. My claws instinctively tightened at the mention, my core thrumming faintly with anticipation and unease. What was this system leading me toward?
The chamber trembled faintly, the green light along its walls flaring brighter. Shadows danced across the rune-etched stone, as if the air itself was charged with energy. The hum of the generator grew louder, resonating through the chamber and through me. I felt frozen—not physically, but mentally. The weight of everything I had done so far was finally sinking in, a sharp twinge of anxiety cutting through my thoughts.
What did I just unlock?
The status window flickered again, and glowing text began to emerge.
---
**Blueprint Package Unlocked:**
---
I stared at the words, my claws trembling faintly. This was only the start of something much bigger.
