Barnett gazed in silence at the deserted street before him: Romanesque buildings lining the way, shopfronts sealed tight. He stood motionless in the biting wind, his mind as cold as the March air that still blanketed Scandinavia in snow. Though he wore a fur coat—its origin unknown—he shivered with bone-deep chill. Yet colder still was his heart. After several minutes of observation, he was certain he had not stumbled onto some film set.
"I must have… crossed over," Barnett muttered to himself in despair.
He approached the glass door of a nearby shop and peered at his reflection: a young, unweathered face, a physique not yet fully built. It dawned on him that this visage matched his own at age sixteen.
"What the hell place is this?" he swore aloud.
Back in his former life, Barnett had been a tenured professor of political science and economics at Princeton University, enjoying high social standing and comfortable means. That very day, after leaving campus, he'd been struck unconscious by a speeding car mid–crosswalk. Upon waking, he found himself here instead.
"How am I supposed to live here?" he despaired. "I don't know anyone, I have no money—finding food and shelter will be impossible."
"Hello, my friend—are you in need of assistance?" a voice called. Barnett spun around, scanning the empty street.
"Well, why not?" he sighed. "If a crossover is real, ghosts or demons might be too." Setting aside his doubts, he addressed the air:
"I am indeed in difficulty. But before we speak—may I have an introduction?"
"My friend," the disembodied voice replied, "my name is Kirby. I am the System. I know all. Think of me as your living encyclopedia. Ask me anything. I can grant you wonders beyond imagination—guaranteed to astonish."
"Kirby, can you—materialize? Let me see you, know who I'm speaking with. I can't keep talking to thin air—I'll look like a fool."
"I'm sorry, my friend," Kirby chuckled, "but I exist only as a construct within your mind. You cannot see or touch me. Yet you need never speak aloud—form your thoughts in your mind, and we converse perfectly."
"Kirby, where exactly is this? What do you mean by 'System'? Why haven't I encountered a single other person?"
Barnett fired off three questions in quick succession.
"This world is the Game World's Earth," Kirby answered. "A sphere just as you remember it, with the same geography. Once you grow strong, you may build a fleet to circumnavigate and discover new continents. Your present location is the Scandinavian Peninsula in Northern Europe. I am your Game System Spirit. With my aid, you can claim kingship, dominate nations, expand territories, even unify this world—if your skills allow. This very town is your springboard to conquest. As for why it is empty… it simply has not been 'instantiated' until now."
"Instantiated?" Barnett echoed with curiosity.
"When you enter a game, you first choose your race and civilization, then claim a novice gift package, and so on. Imagine it vividly in your mind."
At Barnett's command of thought, a holographic map of the town materialized before him, detailing its demographics:
Town population: up to 2,000 residents
Fifteen subordinate villages, each with over 200 inhabitants—total potential population: 5,000
Next, a Race selection menu appeared, listing:Ger manic · Slavic · Aryan · Celtic · Viking · Roman · Greek
"Hm… human ethnicities?" Barnett wondered. "No options for super-mages, half–dragonkin, angels, demons, or 'Witch Tribes'?"
"Apologies," Kirby replied. "Only races that truly existed on Earth may be chosen."
"Understood." Barnett considered: this town would become his base, his starting point for conquests. Thus the initial race choice held vital importance. Reflecting on earthly history, he declared gravely, "I choose Vikings."
"A fine choice, my friend. I admire your discernment," Kirby's playful voice congratulated him.
Barnett then named the town "Byade" and set its faith to Roman Catholicism.
Next came the Novice Gift Pack, which included various attribute boosts, materials, weapons—and 1,500 gold coins, spendable on items of all kinds.
"By the way," Kirby added, "if you ever lack gold, you may exchange your remaining life–span in return—one second of life for one gold piece."
"Can I exchange gold to restore life?" Barnett immediately inquired.
"Indeed," Kirby answered. "Currently, ten gold buys one second of life; we might see inflation later."
"My life… worth so little?" Barnett bristled. "Inflation, too? Well… I'm only sixteen, with decades ahead of me. I suppose I can always earn more gold later to reclaim time."
Kirby said nothing to that, merely replied, "Take your time deciding. The game has not officially begun—time here stands still."
Two hours later, Barnett completed his selections:
Initial Personal Abilities
Intermediate "Tri-Service Commander"
Intermediate "Infantry Leadership"
Beginner "World Knowledge"
Intermediate "Mass Cohesion"
Beginner "Morale Inspiration"
Secondary skills: Intermediate Horsemanship; Intermediate Prisoner Handling; Beginner Physique Enhancement; Intermediate Language Proficiency
Items Purchased for 1,500 Gold
One purebred European warhorse
A suit of light plate armor
A fine-steel battle-axe
A composite shield
A monocular telescope
Initial Buildings Unlocked
Town Center
Tavern
Militia Barracks
Tannery
Initial Military Units
Viking Infantry: 150 men, wearing leather armor and horned helmets, each with a round shield and single-handed axe. Untrained; four companies.
Norse Archers: 100 men, leather armor, horned helmets, short sword and single–piece bow, ten arrows each; basic training; two companies.
Viking Warriors: 150 men, mail armor, horned helmets, kite shield and axe; moderately trained; two companies.
Axe Cavalry: 50 men, mail armor, horned helmets, kite shield, axe, spear; mounted on medium warhorses without horse armor; moderate training; one company.
Elite Commander's Guard (the most costly): Twenty men, clad in Renaissance–style heavy plate, wielding light steel shields, heavy cavalry lances, and spiked flails. Each mounted on a fully barded heavy warhorse. Highly trained; one company. (This unit cost Barnett 4,000 seconds of his life)
"The game is about to begin. Familiarize yourself with your surroundings. Call on me should you need anything."
With that, the System Spirit fell silent. The town sprang to life: its inhabitants resumed their daily tasks, while thousands of troops and horses—summoned from nothing—fell into formation. The Viking warriors chatted quietly among themselves; the Commander's Guard stood statuesque, gazes fixed forward in perfect discipline—truly an elite force.
"Is the game starting now?" Barnett quipped ironically, then led his steed—bestowed by the System—toward his assembled army.