Aaron was scheduled to be executed at 8:00 am. Like all reasonable people would, he objected to the affair. First of all, it was the crack of dawn. He wasn't a morning person; the least they could do was let him sleep in on his last day on Earth. It wasn't like he could escape. He was stuck on Alcatraz island, the most secure prison in America. In its hundred years of operation, no one had ever escaped. Odds were he wouldn't be the one to break the streak.

He yawned. Of course, the early wake-up call wasn't his only objection against the affair. He didn't particularly want to die either, and in his honest opinion, he didn't think he deserved to be executed.

He hadn't done anything especially heinous; the disappearance of several valuable gemstones and painting were the only verifiable crimes to his name. The only thing he had damaged during his heists were the egos of rich private art collectors; no one had gotten hurt. Which, on second thought, was probably why he was thrown in here. He had pissed off the wrong person.

He mentally ran through a list of all the people he had stolen from - there were multiple politicians and business moguls on the list. At least a few of them had the political sway to pull off something like this. The scraping sound of metal against metal distracted him from his thoughts.

To his side, a doctor wearing a plain white coat fiddled with medical equipment. Dark bags sagged beneath the doctor's eyes; he looked like he hadn't slept in quite a while. His would-be executioner cautiously approached him and began placing sensors on his chest. Aaron couldn't do anything other than sitting still. Leather restraints trapped his wrists and ankles against an old wooden chair. Like most of the equipment in this place, it looked like it hadn't been replaced since the 1960's.

Alcatraz was where people were sent when the government wanted them to disappear permanently; it wasn't some five-star resort. Inside its cold walls, anything could happen. They played by their own rules. As long as they acted covertly, there was almost nothing they couldn't get away with. It made sense; there wasn't much incentive to protect America's most dangerous criminals. They were a drain on society, after all.

Under the golden glow of a dim lightbulb, he quietly tested his bindings. No matter how much force he put into them, they wouldn’t budge. At most, he could pivot his hand an inch to the left and right. Which was a problem. He had no desire to die in some sketchy basement.

However, he had a solution; hidden within his mouth, he had a piece of metal that he could use to pick his way out of his restraints. All he needed was for the guard to lose focus for a moment. As things stood, escape was impossible. The guard was carefully watching his every move. If so much as twitched the wrong way, the guard would shoot him. He needed the uniformed man to come closer if he wanted any chance to escape

A small clock in the corner of the room ticked ominously; only three minutes remained till his demise. A flicker of what a sane man would call fear appeared in his chest. Aaron smiled. As the self-proclaimed best thief in the world, this would be an adequate challenge for his skills.

“Aren’t you supposed to give me a last meal before you kill me?” Aaron said as he made a show of futilely struggling against his restraints. He needed them to believe he was helpless.

“No,” the guard said curtly as his fingers rested against his gun. Aaron raised an eyebrow; the pudgy guard had woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

“Come on, don’t be like that. No one will like you if you act like an asshole all the time.” The guard twitched.

“No.” The guard took a threatening step forward.

“No? That response doesn’t even make sense.” Aaron twisted in the chair, shifting towards the doctor preparing his lethal injection. “You’re a doctor right, what’s wrong with that guy? A functioning adult like him shouldn’t be struggling so much with the English language that he can only give one-word responses.”

The doctor flinched, wishing he could melt into the cold grey walls. From his face, it was clear he didn’t want to be here. “I’m not that kind of doctor,” he said with wide eyes, then returned to his work.

“That’s alright. I know his type well enough.” He faced the guard, scanning him for insecurities. “If I had to take a guess, I’d say he was bullied as a child for his big nose. That’s why he has to hold a position of power to feel important. I get it. If I was fat and ugly, I’d be angry all the time too.”

“If I was you, I’d stop talking.” The guard surged forward and grabbed his collar, his face inches away at most.

Aaron wiggled his fingers. The easy part of his plan was complete. Now that the guard was in range, he had to figure out how to steal the man’s gun. He thought for a moment. They neglected to strap down his head and torso. Maybe he could steal it using his teeth? Unsure of the specifics of the plan, he elected to further enrage the guard.

“Why, are you going to do something about it, big nose?”

A vein grotesquely bulged on the man’s forehead. “Yes.” A fist impacted his jaw.

Aaron’s head snapped to the side. “I didn’t take you for the insecure type.” He spat out a glob of blood. "At least we're making progress; you didn't say no this time." The guard struck him again. This time he moved with the punch, letting it snap his head to the side. He went limp and allowed his head to fall down to his lap. Hopefully, they would think he had been knocked unconscious.

The doctor scuffled with the guard, trying to get him to stop. However, Aaron didn’t pay much attention to them. While they were distracted, he wiggled his head forward and began to pry open the guard's gun holster with his teeth. It was difficult but not impossible. The hardest part was keeping his movements subtle enough to not alert the guard. Just as he was about to pull the gun out, the doctor shoved the guard backward, out of his range.

“Stop. This isn’t right,” the doctor shouted. Aaron groaned. Why did the doctor have to be a good person? He was just about to make his daring escape.

“What does it matter if I rough him up a bit? He’ll be dead by the end of the day.”

“When I became a doctor, I took an oath not to harm anyone. Either you stop, or I report you to the Warden.”

Aaron laughed, blood leaking out of his mouth. “I didn’t know you could selectively apply the Hippocratic oath. It’s somehow okay to kill me, but it’s not okay for him to hit me. That doesn’t make much sense.”

The doctor didn’t say anything. Instead, he elected to run a hand through his hair. The tension in the room built as the clock loudly ticked off seconds. Suddenly, an otherworldly bell rang out, signaling the arrival of a floating blue screen in front of him.

Welcome to the system! At the behest of the Shadow Sun Trading Company, your star sector has been assimilated. The first stage of system initialization has begun. Prepare yourself, monsters will spawn, and your world will experience minor weather fluctuations as it adjusts to the higher mana levels. As the initialization progresses, more system features will become available. Press [Initialization] to monitor progress.

Aaron quickly read over the message; he had half a mind to think he had gone insane. However, the text didn’t fluctuate in the way hallucinations normally did, leading him to believe that he hadn’t lost his mind. Either way, it didn’t matter. He’d be dead if he didn’t escape.

Accepting the situation far faster than most would, he opened the [Initialization] Screen.

Phase 1: -User Interface Initialized 100% | Think [Status] to continue to the Status Screen. -Creating Class System 100% | Think [Class] to continue to the Class Selection Screen. -Raising Ambient Mana Levels 16% | Time Remaining: 26:44:31 -Preparing Initial Mob Spawns 97% | Time Remaining: 0:08:21 -Merging Worlds In High Mana Zones 31% | Time Remaining: 13:52:47 -General Skill System 98% | Time Remaining: 0:03:52

He scanned the screen, searching for something to help him break out of the chair. There were many nuggets of information contained on the [Initialization] Screen that interested him, but they weren’t immediately useful, so he ignored them. Taking a leap of faith, he ignored the [Status] Screen and instead opened the [Class] Selection Screen. Something in his gut told him it was the right decision.

Class System unlocked, please make a selection: Warrior: The first swing of a blade, not yet dulled by the weight of the world.

Free Skill Slots: 5

Stats Per Level: 3 Strength, 2 Endurance, 2 Recovery, 3 Defense, 2 Dexterity, 2 Agility, 1 Perception, 1 Mind, 1 Magic, 2 Spirit. Rogue: Hidden in the leaves; the future waits.

Free Skill Slots: 6

Stats Per Level: 1 Strength, 2 Endurance, 2 Recover, 1 Defense, 3 Dexterity, 2 Agility, 2 Perception, 1 Mind, 1 Magic, 2 Spirit. Mage: A brush undyed by paint.

Free Skill Slots: 4

Stats Per Level: 1 Strength, 1 Endurance, 1 Recovery, 1 Defense, 2 Dexterity, 1 Agility, 2 Perception, 3 Mind, 3 Magic, 1 Spirit. Healer: A band-aid for the needy.

Free Skill Slots: 5

Stats Per Level: 1 Strength, 2 Endurance, 2 Recovery, 2 Defense, 2 Dexterity, 1 Agility, 1 Perception, 2 Mind, 3 Magic, 2 Spirit. Crafter: A hammer for want of a nail.

Free Skill Slots: 7

Stats Per Level: 2 Strength, 2 Endurance, 2 Recovery, 1 Defense, 2 Dexterity, 1 Agility, 1 Perception, 1 Mind, 1 Magic, 1 Spirit.

He hesitated for a second. There was too much information - too much he didn’t know. The sound of the clock ticking intensified; now wasn’t the time for informed decisions. Now was the time for decisiveness. Without fully understanding what he was doing, he selected [Mage]. He needed a bonafide miracle - magic was the closest thing. Immediately another screen appeared, promising his salvation.

Mage Selected… No hidden talents or achievements detected, presenting default starting mage skills. Please make a selection. Mana Bolt (Common - Tier 1): Fires a ball of mana in a straight line out of your hand. Costs 5 mana. Damage based on skill level and stats. Mana Shield (Common – Tier 1): Creates a small shield of mana attached to your hand. Costs 10 mana on creation; additional mana is required to sustain the shield. Damage blocked is based on skill level and stats.

He selected Mana Bolt as a plan began to form in his mind. Probingly, he squeezed the old wooden chair he was strapped to. It creaked beneath his grip. If he was stronger, he would have been able to shatter it in his grip, but he wasn’t, so he would have to rely on his newly gained magic.

The cards had been set. All that was left was to wait for the moment their guard would be at its lowest - the moment he was supposed to die.

“What the hell are these things,” the doctor said, still struggling to understand what he was seeing. It had been less than twenty seconds, Aaron supposed it wouldn’t be abnormal for someone to require more time than that to process something of this magnitude.

“It doesn’t matter; it’s time.” Big Nose pointed towards the clock. 8:00 am - time for his execution.

With shaking hands, the doctor picked up the lethal injection. “I’m sorry, I need the money.” A needle plunged into his arm. All that was left was for the doctor to push down the button at the top of the syringe and a toxic medley of chemicals would rush into his bloodstream.

“It’s alright, I understand,” Aaron said. With a shaky breath, the doctor moved his finger over the trigger. Aaron spared a glance at the man’s name tag; he’d remember him. Doctor Gomez closed his eyes, unable to witness what he was about to do. The guard also averted his gaze. No one but the most twisted wanted to watch someone die.

Time seemed to stand still as adrenaline surged through his system, his heart beating faster than ever before. Clenching his teeth, he fired two point-blank mana bolts into the armrest. With a blue flash, it shattered, splintering into hundreds of pieces. His hand stung from the recoil of using the spell at such a short range, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind.

Like a viper, he burst into action and ripped the syringe out of his arm. Before they could react to what was happening, he jammed the needle into the guard's chest and deposited its payload of lethal chemicals into it.

The guard stumbled backward, his face creased in shock. “What...how.” The man fell to the floor, dead.

Doctor Gomez's eyes locked onto the dead guard. "Hell no, I didn't sign up for this," he said under his breath. Without sparing a glance back at him, he sprinted out of the room at full speed.

Aaron chuckled. His hand had about twenty too many splinters in it, his arm leaked blood where he had ripped the needle out, and his jaw hurt like a son of a bitch, but he had managed to escape. A glowing blue screen interrupted his train of thought.

Level 1 Human Slain! 50 Exp Gained. Congratulations! Mana Bolt Lvl 1→3. 2 Skill Points Awarded.

Interesting, but not something he could afford to spend time on at the moment. Guards would be swarming his location any minute now. He had to escape while he had the chance. Using a small piece of metal his only friend in this place had given him, he unlocked his restraints. Quickly, he took off his orange prison jumpsuit and replaced it with the guard's green uniform. It was slightly baggy in the stomach area, but it wasn’t a terrible fit.

With the comforting weight of a gun in his holster, he confidently stepped out the door and made his way to the elevator. A mischievous glint flashed across his eyes. He had a few promises to repay before leaving.