Griffin pushed himself up from the ground, his palms pressing into the soft earth as the last echoes of that cold, ancient voice faded completely from his mind.
The world around him was nothing like his small bedroom back home.
He stood in the middle of an endless sea of pale grass that stretched out in every direction as far as his eyes could reach, the blades tall enough to brush against his waist when the faint breeze moved through them.
The grass had a strange silvery sheen under the dim, sourceless light, almost glowing with its own faint luminescence that made the whole plain look ghostly and unreal.
Above him the sky was completely black, no stars, no moon, no clouds, just an empty void that somehow still gave off enough faint illumination for him to see clearly. The air felt cool against his skin, carrying a clean, earthy scent mixed with something wild and old, like the smell of open fields after a long rain but sharper, more primal.
He could feel the slight dampness under his boots, the way the ground gave just a little when he shifted his weight, the soft rustling sound the grass made every time the breeze passed through it. Everything felt completely real, from the texture of the blades against his fingers to the coolness that settled on his arms.
His heart was still hammering from the sudden shift, and his mind raced to catch up with what had just happened.
He turned in a slow circle, eyes wide as he tried to take it all in.
"What… what is this place?" he muttered out loud, his voice sounding small and swallowed by the vast open space. "Where am I? How did I get here? I was just in my room a second ago, lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I had that headache, the dizziness, and then… nothing. Just that voice."
He pinched his thigh hard, not holding back, and the sharp pain shot through his leg immediately, making him wince. "Okay, that hurt. So I'm not dreaming. Or if I am, it's the most realistic dream I've ever had."
He bent down and picked up a handful of the pale grass, feeling the cool, slightly damp blades between his fingers before throwing them into the air. They scattered and drifted down slowly without making much sound.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted as loud as he could, "Hello? Is anyone there?"
The sound left his lips but seemed to die almost immediately, swallowed by the grasslands like they refused to let noise travel far. No echo came back. The plain just absorbed it, leaving only the soft rustling of the grass in reply.
Griffin started walking forward, picking a direction at random because every way looked exactly the same. His boots sank slightly into the soft ground with each step, leaving faint impressions that the grass slowly filled back in behind him.
He kept talking to himself, the words tumbling out in a steady stream as he tried to make sense of everything. "This can't be real. One minute I'm in my room feeling like crap after the worst day of my life, the next I'm standing in some endless field under a black sky. Did I pass out? Am I in a coma or something? Or did that crystal do this to me? Or maybe this is some kind of punishment for being useless. Or maybe I'm dead. That would explain the weird voice. 'Become the predator.' What does that even mean?"
He laughed once, a short, nervous sound that didn't carry far. "Great. I finally get a Class and it sends me to some empty grass prison. Perfect. Just what I needed after everyone laughed at me today."
The longer he walked the more the tension built in his chest. The grasslands never seemed to end. No matter how far he went the horizon stayed the same distant, hazy line of low rolling hills that never got any closer. He tried changing direction, turning left, then right, but it made no difference.
The pale grass stretched on forever, swaying gently, the small glowing flowers scattered here and there giving off tiny points of light that blinked softly like distant fireflies.
He stopped for a moment and crouched down, running his hand through the grass again, feeling the cool blades slide between his fingers.
"This feels too real," he muttered. "The air, the ground, even the way my clothes are sticking to me from sweat. If this is a dream, it's a really detailed one. But if it's not…"
He stood up again, wiping his hands on his pants. "What if I can't get out? What if I'm stuck here forever? No one knows where I am. Mom,dad and Lena will be worried sick. They'll think I just went to sleep early and didn't wake up. What if this is some kind of afterlife for people who failed their Awakening? A punishment for being zero-mana trash."
The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine. He started walking faster, his breathing getting a little quicker as the first real fear settled in. What if there was no way back? What if this endless plain was all there was now?
He kept moving, talking to himself the whole time to keep the panic from rising too high. "Come on, think. There has to be a way out. That voice said something about a hunting zone. Maybe I just need to find something, or kill something, or… I don't know. But standing here panicking isn't going to help. I've dealt with bad days before. I can handle this too."
The grass continued to rustle softly around him, the sound almost soothing if he didn't think too hard about how alone he was. He looked up at the empty black sky again, searching for any break in the darkness, any hint of stars or light that might give him a direction.
Nothing. Just that strange, sourceless glow that let him see everything clearly while still making the whole place feel wrong and otherworldly. His legs started to feel the strain of walking through the tall grass, but he kept going, driven by the growing worry that he might really be trapped here with no way home.
After what felt like a long time of walking with no change in the landscape, Griffin slowed down again, breathing harder. The fear was sharper now, sitting heavy in his chest.
"This can't be it," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't just be stuck in some grass field forever because I got a bad Class. There has to be more to it. That voice said 'become the predator.' Maybe I need to find something to hunt. Or maybe this is all a test."
He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to push the rising panic back down. The grasslands stretched on endlessly in every direction, the pale grass swaying gently, the small glowing flowers blinking softly like tiny eyes watching him. He felt completely alone, small, and lost in a way he had never felt before.
The disappointment from the Awakening Ceremony still sat heavy inside him, but now it was mixed with this new, sharper fear of being trapped in a place that made no sense.
Just then something moved. A soft rustling sound coming from the grass ahead of him, different from the gentle breeze moving through the plain. It was closer, more deliberate, like something was moving through the tall blades with purpose.
Griffin froze, his heart jumping back into a hard rhythm. He stared into the sea of pale grass, trying to spot whatever was making the noise.
For a moment everything was still. Then the grass parted slightly, and he saw movement, a small, quick shape darting low to the ground, coming straight toward him.