When Lucian fell through the rift in the alley behind his apartment, he wasn't holding a sword or spell—he was holding takeout ramen and an overdue library book on ancient linguistics.
He barely had time to scream before gravity yanked him from New York into another world. He landed hard in a snow-covered forest with nothing but his coat, a chipped phone, and a stinging headache.
And a System.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED…]
Welcome to Arithrael, Lost One.
Class: Unassigned
Specialization Detected: "Interpretive Cognition"
Unique Trait Acquired: Polyglot Soul – You can comprehend and decipher ancient or lost languages.
Warning: Physical stats below baseline. Please avoid combat.
Would you like to enable "Survival Mode"?
Lucian blinked. "What?"
Survival Mode Enabled.
Basic Shelter Nearby. Food Source Detected: Abandoned Mage's Cabin (Status: Ruined)
Following the ping, he stumbled through the snow until the forest broke into a clearing. A crooked, half-collapsed stone cottage loomed before him, wrapped in vines and frost. Chimney broken. Door hanging off one hinge. But—miraculously—smoke still curled weakly from inside.
Inside was chaos: a shattered alchemy bench, shattered jars, burnt scrolls, and a surprisingly intact hearth. The scent of dried herbs and old magic clung to the air.
And in the center of the dusty table, a spellbook with teeth lay shut, quietly breathing.
[New Objective: Make this place livable.]
Sub-Objective: Cook something edible using local ingredients.
Bonus Objective: Identify the language in the animated spellbook.
Rewards: ???
Penalty for failure: Hunger. Cold. Existential dread.
"Fantastic," Lucian muttered. "It's like Skyrim if Todd Howard hated me personally."
He explored cautiously, finding shriveled vegetables in enchanted stasis, cracked clay cookware, and—miraculously—preserved spices. With nothing but instinct and microwave-era cooking memories, he scraped together a soup from rehydrated roots, dried greens, and a pinch of whatever smelled least cursed.
He stirred. The hearth roared to life as the pot simmered.
[Cooking Skill: 1]
You have cooked something edible. It tastes nostalgic and vaguely unsettling.
Emotional Signature: "Lonely but trying."
Buff: +2 Warmth, +1 Hope
Lucien took a sip. It wasn't good, but it was warm. And it was his.
Then the spellbook creaked open.
Its pages rearranged themselves into strange glyphs, floating in the air like fireflies. Lucien's vision swam—but then, something clicked in his mind.
[Translation Skill Activated: Ancient Celestine Runes – 23% Comprehended]
First Word Unlocked: "Flame"
At that moment, the soup briefly ignited with golden fire—then settled again.
"Okay," Lucian whispered, breath fogging in the cold cabin. "Maybe I can do this."
Not save the world. Not slay dragons. Just… rebuild this cottage. Decode a language lost to time. And figure out what magic and memory had to do with food.