A thousand pieces of Hunter fell into himself like an abstract stained glass window. As he returned to the world of the living, he took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to get a bearing on his surroundings. Almost immediately, he came to a realization.

I am fucked.

Hunter knew that his ultra-conservative grandparents wouldn’t be a fan of his language, but at this point, he didn’t care. Snodgrass Mountain towered above him in all of its sickening glory like a Tim Burton fantasy. Ash-colored snow covered soot gray rocks and charred and blackened trees grasped with twisted branches. The sky was an exhibition of the various shades of blood, and the pervading smell of rot assaulted the senses. Hunter could even hear painful moans and occasional screeches that sounded like a choir from hell.

As he stood there in mute shock, a bestial roar echoed through the landscape and turned his guts into water. A series of notifications followed it. They overlaid his vision like a heads-up-display he had seen in sci-fi games.

Archive Analyzing…

Basic Attributes awarded.

Name: Hunter Gold

Race: Human

Class: N/A

Level: N/A

Experience: 0/2000

STR: 10

VIT: 10

DEX: 14

END: 14

INT: 13

WIL: 8

CHA: 8

PER: 10

FTH: 0

Welcome to the Snodgrass Rift. You must defeat the Rift Keeper to exit the Rift. Good luck!

Error…

WARNING: You have entered a Rift without a Class. Please proceed to the nearest Sanctuary and receive a Class from the Rift Sentinel.

Congratulations! For the first being on your plane to enter a Rift, you have been awarded the Rift Walker Path!

Hunter dismissed his status screen without looking into it further. He had played video games before and understood what all the various attributes meant. If he was honest, it was an accurate reflection of himself. He was average in terms of strength, vitality, and perception. He was above average in dexterity and endurance due to his position on the basketball team. He was also above average in intelligence but suffered below-average scores in willpower and charisma. As for faith, it was an easy enough score to validate.

His mom had been through all kinds of faith in her search for fulfillment, and Hunter had been along for the ride. He had been to every flavor of Christian denomination, and his mom had looked into Judaism and Islam. She had even gotten into a strange yoga phase where she wanted to learn about Buddhism and Hinduism. Hunter hadn’t been a fan of any of the things he tried. Each experience left him with more questions than answers. He almost regretted his lack of faith because it might help him in this new hellscape.

At least the strange messages told him what he needed to do and where he needed to go. He wasn’t sure why the Archivist had sent him to this Rift, but at least the Archives gave him the information he needed. When he looked in the corner of his vision, he saw a miniature map overlaid. The entirety of the map was steeped in shadow except for a few feet directly around him. He assumed that the shadow would recede the more he explored. His bubble of visibility would also likely increase with more perception. At the very top of the map, a golden mote indicated the direction he needed to travel to reach the Sanctuary.

He shrugged and tried to ignore the screaming that suddenly pierced the air. He didn’t have the time to worry about someone else within the Rift. The Archives had already told him that he was the first to arrive, so whatever caused the sound was probably something he didn’t want to meet.

He started walking in the direction of Sanctuary but soon realized that it was taking him to the peak of the mountain. Everything about that information felt wrong to him, so he stopped to think about it. It wasn’t likely that the map led to the peak. In every video game ever, that’s where the main boss would hide. He had little confidence he would be able to defeat whatever waited. Instead, the Sanctuary must be on the opposite side of Snodgrass.

He scowled at the realization. If he were going to go around the mountain instead of through, that meant he would have to exit the cracked earthen path and go the long way. It would add to his time significantly.

He looked around and found nothing in his near vicinity except for twisted trees and a blanket of ash.

It’s probably safe, he thought to himself.

He shifted from a walk to a jog. Despite his self-assurance, he didn’t feel safe at all. He could maintain his jog for hours. It was something his coaches took great delight to foster in their players. When they didn’t have a tournament on the weekends, the coaches forced them to participate in the school’s cross country training. It was brutal practice, but for once, he was happy he had gone.

He smiled at a message that accompanied his effort.

Congratulations! You have earned the Passive Skill: Running Lvl 1!

As soon as he earned the skill, a shaking mound of ash wiped the stupid grin off of his face. He skid to a halt and froze like a deer trapped in a pair of headlights. The ash continued to shake until it slid off of a creature underneath. As the last of the covering slipped away, Hunter got his first look at a denizen of the Rift.

It was a fiendish creature no taller than a toddler. Hunter felt awkward in comparison as he towered over the creature. It was humanoid in shape with standard arms that ended in disproportionately large hands. Each long finger ended in long black talons. Its digitigrade legs ended in tiny goat hoofs. Its flesh was the color of a day-old corpse with mottled yellows and greens that made it look covered in one giant bruise. Matted white fur covered the creature and lent it a bestial appearance. It was painfully thin, and Hunter could see bones poking through paper-thin skin. Strangely, bejeweled golden accessories covered its frame. Bangles covered each wrist, dozens of earrings were looped through bat-like ears, and multiple necklaces were draped around its neck. It looked up Hunter with onyx-colored eyes that glowed with a green internal light. Its smile was filled with needle-like teeth that went well with the two tiny goat horns upon its brow. In one hand, it held a small gold pitchfork. The tines were crusted with what appeared to be old blood.

The Archive took that moment to let him know what he faced. It painted a description of the creature’s head in inky black letters.

Minor Greed Imp: Lvl ??

The creature cackled as emerald fire was summoned to its palm. Hunter audibly gulped. He had played enough games that a black description meant he was about to die. So he did what any other average person would do…he ran.