Cael Veyne rubbed his eyes, still in a daze, but it was no use. The strange, shifting white space around him wasn't some illusion his mind had conjured up. He had woken up somewhere else entirely.
His feet were solid on the ground, but the ground didn't feel real. It wasn't the familiar, worn wooden floor of his cramped apartment—it felt too smooth, too perfect, like the inside of a machine, yet also uncomfortably organic. There was no scent of dust, no hum of city life in the distance. Nothing but silence and emptiness.
"Where... am I?" Cael murmured aloud, but the answer came almost immediately.
"[Welcome, Cael Veyne.]" The voice was calm, but its presence echoed, stretching out into the space, filling the void like an ancient authority. "[You have been chosen to serve as an Architect. A creator of systems, worlds, and realities.]"
Cael's heart raced. Architect? His mind was whirling with confusion. Had he somehow been pulled into one of his own simulation projects? Or was this some kind of game? Was he dreaming?
"[Do not worry, Cael Veyne,]" the voice continued, almost sensing his confusion. "[You are not dreaming. This is the System Simulation Lab, a realm that exists beyond the fabric of your reality. Here, you have been granted the ability to create and manipulate systems that govern worlds and their inhabitants.]"
Cael swallowed hard. This is real? It felt so unreal, so impossible.
But there was no time to wonder. A new panel appeared before him, shifting into view with an eerie, seamless motion. It looked like a floating, translucent screen made of light, displaying lines of flowing code.
He stepped closer, almost instinctively, and peered at the screen. Words danced across the interface, creating shifting patterns that were too fast for him to comprehend at first.
"[System Creation Interface Initialized.]" The voice rang out again. "[Please create a system.]"
Cael blinked, trying to make sense of the instructions. He looked around the space, but there was nothing except the endless white and the floating screens. Create a system? How? What does that even mean?
He took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. This wasn't some game—it couldn't be. And the words "create a system" meant something far greater than any code he'd written before. Systems govern things. They control everything from the economy to human behaviour.
He could feel the pull. There was something in him—the instinct to design, to build, to solve.
"[Please enter the parameters for your system.]"
The interface presented a blank form, simple but intimidating. There were sections for different system categories: skills, laws, economies, cultures… and more. Each category had fields that begged to be filled in, as though inviting him to shape the very fabric of a new world. It felt like the system was holding his hand, but with a quiet insistence.
Cael hesitated, but only for a moment. His mind was racing through possibilities. What kind of system would he create? He was just a student, an amateur programmer. This kind of power… It was beyond anything he had ever imagined.
"[The world is ready for your influence. What will you create, Architect?]" The Genesis Protocol's voice reverberated through the space, its presence commanding yet oddly comforting.
The blank spaces in front of Cael seemed to grow larger, almost waiting for his input. Slowly, his fingers hovered over the keys, his mind working through the concepts of what he might make. A system that created heroes? Or maybe one that could test humanity? Could he create a world where survival depended on something as simple as luck or cooperation?
After a few long seconds, he typed his first idea into the system. It felt clumsy at first—like a child trying to draw in the sand—but the more he typed, the more the world began to take shape.
"[System Name: Trial of Fortune]"
He hesitated but clicked on the [Economy] category, then typed a simple phrase: "Luck-based economy." It was the simplest thing he could think of. A world where wealth and resources were randomly distributed, based on the pure whims of fate. How would such a system affect the people in it? Would they struggle or rise to greatness? He didn't know, but the uncertainty felt exhilarating.
He glanced at the other categories. [Culture]—a system that shaped how the people of this world viewed luck. [Skills]—abilities that could be randomly bestowed upon them, shaped by fortune. [Punishments/Rewards]—would they be affected by the randomness of their fate? Would they work to change their fortunes, or would they surrender to destiny?
As his mind flowed with the ideas, the system began compiling his input, and the words on the screen shifted into a new format. The floating panels around him seemed to react to his every thought, glowing softly in response to his actions.
Cael had designed a [system], but what would happen next?
"[System Generated: Trial of Fortune]"
The floating panel shimmered, and in an instant, the air around him began to shift. The white space vanished, replaced by a landscape—a field of golden grasses swaying in the wind, endless and vast. Small stone structures dotted the landscape, and in the distance, Cael could make out the silhouettes of towns and villages.
It looked real. Too real. The wind felt warm against his skin, and when he raised his hand to touch a piece of grass, it bent under his fingers as though it were alive.
His heart pounded again. Was this a real world? A new simulation?
"[The world is ready. The system is in place.]" The Genesis Protocol's voice rang out again, confirming his suspicions.
But then… something strange happened.
As Cael looked around, he saw movement. People—simulated inhabitants of this world—were walking between the villages, but they weren't walking aimlessly. They were fighting. Arguing. They seemed to be interacting with each other over something. He couldn't tell what exactly, but it was clear that there was tension. These people were living, breathing beings, their fates controlled by the very [system] he had just created.
"[You see the effects of your creation.]" The Genesis Protocol spoke again, its tone unwavering. "[Luck governs their economy, but not all are pleased with their fortunes. Some strive for more, while others suffer from the whims of fate.]"
Cael stared, transfixed by the scene. He saw one man—a farmer—standing by the side of the road, his face twisted in frustration as he held an empty sack. Nearby, a group of merchants laughed, their carts overflowing with goods.
In the distance, a woman wept as she picked at a pile of discarded stones, apparently searching for something. Had she lost her fortune? Was she cursed by fate?
"[What will you do now, Architect?]" The Genesis Protocol's question came like a whisper, but it shook Cael to his core.
He had created this world, this reality. His decisions were shaping the lives of these people. He was no longer just a passive observer in a simulation—he was a creator, responsible for everything that happened here. The weight of it all was overwhelming.
"[You must monitor your creation, Architect. Every system has consequences.]"
Cael glanced back at the floating panel in front of him. It displayed lines of code, statistics, and graphs—data flowing like a river, indicating how his [system] was evolving. As he observed it, he noticed that the world was not static; it was dynamic, changing in response to his design.
He could already see signs of imbalance. Some people were thriving, others were suffering. How long would it take before this world broke apart? Would they ever learn to adapt? Or would they rebel against the system he had put in place?
A thought flickered in his mind, chilling him.
"[Can I... fix this?]"
"[You can alter your system, Architect.]" The Genesis Protocol's voice rang out again. "[But remember, once you begin to intervene, the consequences of your choices will become irreversible.]"
Cael's heart thudded. He realized that this was only the beginning. His creation had just begun, but he was already faced with the consequences of what he'd set in motion.