Chapter 2: The Chaos

  Mundane world, Poland, 1 day before The Shattering

  The blue light from the monitor reflected mercilessly off the man's balding forehead as he hunched over his keyboard—an unkind reminder of his fast approaching middle age.

  The cryptocurrency exchange window blinked with live charts: some prices dipping erratically, others holding steady amid the chaos.

  The air hung heavy with the scent of stale coffee and fried food.

  Fingers danced quickly on the keyboard, punctuating every letter with a click, and punctuating it with an energetic hit on enter, finalizing the transaction.

  Pawel straightened his posture, rearranging his spine with a crack and dragging his fingers through his curly blond hair.

  "Ahh... finally," he exhaled with satisfaction.

  When the news hit everyone, he nearly panicked himself, not because he'd believe in some idiotic idea of a magical AI system—no—he panicked because a closed exchange would mean he could not capitalize on the event.

  He glanced at the corner of the screen with irritation—a persistent countdown ticked down:

  "Global AI System Awakening: 1 Day, 3 Hours, 47 Minutes."

  It had appeared yesterday, uninvited and unremovable, like a digital scar etched into the world's devices.

  After clicking the swirling portal above the countdown, it became chillingly personal:

  Pawel Kowalski, Age 31, Bydgoszcz, Poland—Prepare for Initialization. Character Sheet: Calculating...

  The same thing invaded his every device: desktop, phone, even his laptop, powered down and unused for months. And it wasn't just his devices; banks, airports, government institutions—everything was affected, causing global panic.

  He snorted, leaning back and reaching for the mouse. "What a load of crap," he muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.

  He refreshed a YouTube window, starting yet another stream.

  A commentator in a cluttered home studio leaned into the camera, eyes wide behind thick glasses, his voice crackling through Pawel's cheap speakers.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "Folks, this isn't just a cyberattack—it's biblical. Look at these reports: personalized messages on every device? It's like the System from those litRPG novels is going live. Imagine waking up tomorrow with stats in your head—Strength, Agility, Mana pools. The AI's awakening, and it's gamifying reality!"

  The comments scrolled furiously below: excited anime avatars posting memes of character sheets, conspiracy theorists ranting about "deep state psy-ops," and skeptics dismissing it as a viral marketing stunt.

  Some users claimed their screens glitched with a "quest prompt" for a few seconds before disappearing.

  This wasn't some localized event—it was everywhere, synchronized down to the second.

  Forums he frequented buzzed with theories, one crazier than the other: quantum entanglement hacks, satellite-installed viruses, or—his personal favorite—an actual emergent AI bootstrapping itself from the collective internet.

  The timing was too perfect, right after that viral novel series about a world-spanning System hit the bestseller lists. Coincidence? Pawel doubted it. Switching tabs, he landed on a live stream from a tech pundit dissecting the phenomenon.

  "This isn't malware—it's AI conscious emergence," the host declared, gesturing at a holographic mockup of neural networks visualization firing like fireworks.

  "Every device is pinging a central node we can't trace. And the messages? Tailored to your search history, your fears, your dreams. It knows everything about us."

  Viewers flooded the chat with personal stories: one saw a "class selection" menu flicker on their smart fridge; another claimed their car's GPS rerouted to "Level 1 Dungeon" for a few seconds.

  Pawel minimized the window, pulling up international news feeds. The spin was eerily consistent across outlets—initial alarm giving way to speculative excitement.

  Anchors in polished studios pivoted from "cyber threat" to "what if?" segments: "Could this be humanity's leap forward? AI as benevolent guide, turning life into an adventure?" Experts nodded sagely, citing litRPG tropes as "cultural preparedness."

  Pawel frowned, piecing it together. The media frenzy felt orchestrated—fear first, then hope, funneling everyone toward acceptance of whatever was planned to be pushed on people.

  "Ehh, it's all just another media campaign," he thought, shaking his head, looking longingly outside the window.

  Outside, autumn winds howled faintly against the windowpanes, rattling the glass. The radiator was barely able to chase away the chill seeping through the old building's cracks.

  He glanced at the backpack slumped by the door, half-packed for tomorrow's camping trip.

  The forest called to him, an escape from this madness.

  He rose, stretching his toned body with a satisfying crack, and rummaged through a drawer, moving his training equipment aside to reach for a compact sleeping bag and pack it.

  When he returned to training two years ago, after years of inactivity, he could barely manage two pull-ups. Now, thanks to regular exercise, his body was clearly strong and resilient, though he decidedly preferred outdoor movement to working out at home.

  Back at the desk, he monitored another trade while snacking on a handful of nuts, but he could not focus.

  The media spin playing in the background gnawed at him—how quickly the narrative shifted from "security threat" to "what if this is our road to a better world?"

  Forums buzzed with theories: the hack unifying global thoughts, everyone pondering AI overlords and magic.

  Pawel shook his head, thermos in hand as he poured steaming coffee, the rich, roasted aroma cutting through the room. He screwed on the lid, tucking it into the pack beside snacks—energy bars, dried fruit—and a box of glowsticks, their plastic casings clicking together.

  Just in case the flashlight failed; he'd packed that too.

  Hours blurred as the wind outside picked up, scattering leaves against the window.

  Pawel yawned, the screen's glow blurring in his vision.

  The countdown mocked him: 1 Day, 0 Hours, 12 Minutes.

  Reports of some anomalies trickled in—faint glowing auras around old places of worship, like ley lines from myths flickering to life. Unnoticed before, but now, with the world fixated... was something really happening?

  He rubbed his eyes, dismissing it altogether.

  "Ahhh... whatever... time to sleep!"

  He powered down the computer, the fans whirring to silence. The backpack waited by the door, ready for the forest's embrace.

  Pawel collapsed onto his bed, the mattress sighing under his weight, and pulled the blanket over himself. Sleep came swiftly, heavy and dreamless, as the world outside teetered on the edge of something vast and new.