Everything was too loud.

  Sofia's eyes snapped open, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. The ceiling above her—unfamiliar wooden beams—seemed to pulse with each thud of a distant hammer. Voices filtered through walls as if they were made of paper, dozens of conversations overlapping into a cacophony that made her head throb.

  She sat up abruptly, instantly regretting the movement as the room spun around her. It was small, spartan—a cot, a side table, a chair. A single window let in soft morning light. But the sensations that bombarded her went far beyond what her eyes could see.

  She could feel the vibrations of footsteps in the hallway outside, sense the movement of air currents as someone passed by her door. The brush of fabric against skin—not her own—registered like sandpaper against raw nerves. Smells assaulted her from all directions—sweat, cooking food, antiseptic, metal.

  "Make it stop," she whispered, pressing her hands against her temples. But that only made it worse, adding the sensation of her own pulse hammering against her fingertips to the overwhelming input.

  The door opened, and Sofia flinched as if struck. A woman entered—middle-aged, with steel-gray hair cut practically short and wearing what looked like medical scrubs improvised from mismatched fabrics.

  "You're awake," the woman said, her voice seeming to reverberate in Sofia's skull despite its moderate volume. "Good. I'm Dr. Winters. You've been unconscious for nearly two days, what's your name?"

  "Sofia .. Where am I?" Sofia managed, each word feeling like it scraped her throat raw. "What happened to me?"

  Dr. Winters approached, her movements measured and deliberate. "You're in the Eastern Sanctuary. A patrol found you collapsed at the edge of the forest, about five kilometers west of here. Do you remember how you got there?"

  Sofia tried to focus, to push back against the tide of sensations long enough to access her memories. Images flickered through her mind—walking by the lake with Erik and Marcus, a strange light, screaming, darkness... then waking alone in a place that wasn't quite like the world she knew.

  "There was a light," she said slowly. "I was with my friends—Erik and Marcus. Then everything... changed. I was alone in a forest. I walked for... I don't know how long. Hours, maybe. Then nothing."

  Dr. Winters nodded, making notes on a small pad of paper. Even the scratch of pencil against paper seemed unnaturally loud to Sofia's ears.

  "That's consistent with what we've seen in other survivors. The Merge affected different areas at different times. Some people were transported individually, others in groups. Your friends might be out there somewhere."

  "The Merge?"

  "That's what we call it. When our world merged with... whatever this is now." Dr. Winters gestured vaguely. "A reality with different rules. A System, as many call it."

  "System," Sofia repeated, the word triggering another flash of memory—blue text floating in her vision, strange terminology, numbers that made no sense. "I saw something... like a game interface? Was I hallucinating?"

  "No, that's the System interface. Everyone sees it differently, but it's real." Dr. Winters studied her with more interest now. "Can you access your status? Just think or say 'Status' and focus."

  Sofia closed her eyes. "Status."

  Nothing happened.

  "Nothing," she said, opening her eyes again. "Is something wrong with me? Is that why everything feels so... so intense?"

  Dr. Winters' expression shifted subtly, but in Sofia's heightened state, the micro-expressions were as clear as shouted words—surprise, then understanding, then something like calculation.

  "You haven't killed a monster yet," the doctor said simply. "The System interface doesn't fully activate until then. Once you do, you'll likely have a better understanding of... whatever's happening to you right now."

  That explained the overwhelming flood of sensations—her body had changed, but she had no way to interpret or modulate the new input.

  "So I need to... kill something to make this bearable?" The idea made her stomach turn. Sofia had always been the positive one, the one who made peace between her friends when they argued. Even when Erik would get too cold and analytical or Marcus would dig in his heels out of stubbornness, she'd been the one to smooth things over with a joke or a smile.

  "In simple terms, yes. The first kill triggers full System access," Dr. Winters replied. "It's how it seems to work for everyone. Until then, what you're experiencing is... well, it's different for each person, but it's related to how the System is affecting you."

  The doctor stood, her movements deliberate as if conscious of how they might affect Sofia. "I'll arrange for you to join a controlled expedition today. We'll help you get your first monster kill, then you can begin integration into the sanctuary."

  Dr. Winters paused. "Those names don't appear in our registry. But new survivors arrive daily. We'll add them to the watch list for our patrols."

  "How about Lennart, Eva, Lucas or Amelie?" Sofia asked quickly, her voice taking on a desperate edge. Her parents and younger siblings—the thought of them out there somewhere sent a fresh wave of fear through her.

  "Surnames?" Dr. Winters asked, moving back to a small desk in the corner where she flipped through several papers. "Last names help us track people better."

  “Lindgren”, Sofia answered anxiously, watching as the doctor reviewed what appeared to be intake records. After a moment, Dr. Winters shook her head.

  "I'm sorry. We don't have any Lindgrens registered here." Seeing Sofia's expression fall, she added, "That doesn't mean anything definitive. The Merge affected different places differently. Some areas were hit weeks before others. Your family might be in another sanctuary, or they might not have been brought over yet."

  "Or they could be out there somewhere," Sofia said quietly, trying to hold onto hope. The thought of her family—her father with his terrible dad jokes, her mother's warm hugs, Lucas's video game obsession, little Amelie who followed Sofia everywhere—it was almost too much to bear on top of everything else.

  "We'll add all their names to our watch list," Dr. Winters assured her. "If any of them turn up, you'll be the first to know."

  With that, she left, closing the door quietly behind her. Sofia sat in relative silence, trying to process everything she'd learned. The world had merged with something else. There was a "System" that treated humans like game characters. She needed to kill something to fully access it.

  And she was alone in this new reality, separated from the people she trusted most.

  No, not alone, she corrected herself. There were others here—this "sanctuary" seemed to be a gathering of survivors. But without Erik's calm rationality or Marcus's loyal determination, without her family's comforting presence, she felt adrift in a sea of overwhelming sensation.

  Slowly, cautiously, Sofia swung her legs over the side of the cot and stood. The room tilted alarmingly for a moment before stabilizing. Her clothes had been changed while she was unconscious—she now wore loose-fitting pants and a simple tunic of rough fabric. Her own clothes, she noted, were folded neatly on the chair, though they looked worse for wear.

  She changed quickly, finding comfort in the familiar feel of her own jeans and sweater, though they were stained and torn in places. As she dressed, she tried to focus on controlling her breathing, using it as an anchor against the flood of sensory input.

  Outside her window, she could see a community in motion—people moving between buildings, carrying supplies, training with weapons in a distant field. The structures appeared to be a mix of pre-existing buildings and new constructions made from scavenged materials. A wooden palisade wall surrounded the compound, with guards visible at regular intervals.

  It looked surprisingly organized for something that had probably only existed for a few weeks. How long had this "Merge" been happening? How had people adapted so quickly?

  A knock at the door made her wince. "Come in," she called, bracing for the fresh assault of sensations that would accompany another person.

  The door opened to reveal a young man perhaps a few years older than Sofia, with close-cropped red hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose. He wore what looked like improvised leather armor, a short sword at his hip.

  "I'm Kieran," he said, his voice mercifully gentler than Dr. Winters' had been. "I work as a scout here. Dr. Winters asked me to show you around and get you set up for your expedition."

  "Sofia," she replied, finding his direct manner somewhat steadying. "I'm... well, I don't know what I am yet, I guess."

  A smile brightened his face. "You will soon enough. Everyone gets something. The System seems to give everyone different abilities—no two people are exactly alike, as far as we can tell."

  He gestured for her to follow him into the hallway, which she did with tentative steps.

  "Dr. Winters mentioned something about talents?" Sofia asked, trying to distract herself from the onslaught of new sensations as they moved through what appeared to be a small medical facility.

  "Yeah, everyone gets a unique talent —something special only you can do," Kieran explained. "I can sense the safest paths through any terrain and maintain my energy while following them - the system calls it Pathfinder."

  They exited the building into bright morning sunlight that sent spikes of pain through Sofia's already overstimulated brain. She squinted, raising a hand to shield her eyes.

  "Sorry," Kieran said, noticing her discomfort. "It usually gets easier once you can see the System interface. The good news is, we should have you sorted by this afternoon. The expeditions leave after midday meal."

  As they walked, Kieran pointed out the various buildings and areas of the sanctuary—dormitories for single residents, family quarters, training grounds, crafting workshops, communal dining hall, administrative buildings where the council met.

  "The council?" Sofia asked, trying to focus on the conversation rather than the dizzying array of inputs bombarding her senses.

  "Seven people who make decisions for the sanctuary," Kieran explained. "They were among the first survivors to organize after the Merge. They handle defense planning, resource allocation, expeditions, relations with new arrivals. We've only been operational for a few weeks, but they've done a good job keeping things running."

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  Something in his tone caught Sofia's attention—a subtle tension, perhaps, or reservation. Despite her overwhelmed state, her natural perceptiveness picked up on it.

  "You don't sound entirely convinced about them," she ventured.

  Kieran glanced around quickly before responding, his voice lower. "They do good work. The sanctuary exists because of them. It's just... there are questions about how resources are distributed, who gets access to the best equipment and training. Nothing serious."

  But his body language told a different story—shoulders slightly tensed, eyes darting to check if others might overhear. Sofia filed the information away for later consideration.

  They continued their tour, eventually arriving at the dining hall—a large open building filled with tables and benches, bustling with activity as people gathered for a late breakfast. The noise and press of bodies nearly overwhelmed Sofia, but Kieran guided her to a quieter corner.

  "Wait here," he said. "I'll get us both some food."

  Left alone, Sofia tried to focus on something—anything—to anchor herself against the tide of sensations. She settled on counting the wooden beams supporting the ceiling, deliberately slowing her breathing as she did so.

  "Here you go," Kieran said, returning with two bowls of what looked like porridge with dried fruit. "Eat. You'll need your strength for later."

  Sofia took a few tentative bites, finding the simple food surprisingly good after days of... what had she eaten since the Merge? She couldn't clearly remember.

  "How many people are here?" she asked between mouthfuls, trying to maintain conversation as a distraction from the sensory overload.

  "Almost two hundred now," Kieran replied. "New people arrive weekly. Some stay, some move on once they've recovered and gained a few levels."

  "Move on to where?" Sofia asked, perking up slightly. Despite everything, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of hope that there might be news of her friends.

  He shrugged. "Some go looking for family or friends. Others just prefer to make their own way. There are rumors of other sanctuaries forming—one to the west, another far to the south. No one's confirmed them yet."

  Sofia nodded, thinking of Erik and Marcus again. If they were alive—and she refused to consider any other possibility—they might be searching for her as she sat here eating porridge. Marcus would be driven to find them, his loyal determination pushing him forward despite any obstacles. And Erik, despite his analytical detachment, would be methodical in his search, refusing to give up once he set his mind to finding them.

  "The expedition you mentioned," she said, bringing herself back to the present. "How does it work exactly?"

  "Simple enough. We take newcomers who haven't had their first monster kill to a controlled area—a former office building about a kilometer from here. It's a regular goblin nest, but low-level creatures only. Three or four experienced fighters accompany each newcomer, ensure their safety, but let them make the killing blow to trigger System activation."

  "And after that? After I can see the System?"

  "You'll be assigned quarters, get some training, and start contributing to sanctuary activities. Everyone helps according to what they're good at." He pushed his empty bowl aside. "Speaking of which, we should get you outfitted. You'll need at least basic protection for the expedition."

  They left the dining hall and headed toward what Kieran had earlier identified as the equipment storage. Inside, a heavyset woman with intricate tattoos covering her arms was organizing various weapons and pieces of armor.

  "Morning, Delia," Kieran called. "Got a new arrival for basic outfitting. First-kill expedition this afternoon."

  Delia looked up, assessing Sofia with a practiced eye. "Slender build, let's try leather to start." She moved to a rack of armor pieces, selecting a few items. "Try these on. Nothing fancy, but they'll stop a goblin claw from opening your veins on your first day."

  Sofia accepted the leather vest and bracers, putting them on over her clothes. They were well-worn but functional, reinforced at key points.

  "Now for a weapon," Delia mused. "Something light..."

  "I've never used a weapon before," Sofia admitted, the reality of what she was preparing for suddenly hitting her. "I don't know the first thing about fighting."

  "No one does until they have to," Delia replied matter-of-factly. "The System helps—most people seem physically enhanced compared to before the Merge. You'll probably be stronger and faster than you expect." She selected a short sword with a simple hilt. "Try this. Just hold it, get a feel for the weight."

  Sofia accepted the weapon hesitantly. It was lighter than she'd expected, the grip fitting her hand reasonably well.

  "That'll do for now," Delia decided. "After you get your first kill and can see your attributes, we can look at more specialized equipment."

  "Thank you," Sofia said, feeling strangely formal in her borrowed armor with a sword at her hip. The situation's surreality struck her anew—just days ago, she'd been a normal high school student in Sweden with dreams of traveling the world and maybe becoming a journalist someday. Now she was preparing to kill monsters in a merged reality.

  "One hour until expedition assembly," Kieran informed her as they left the equipment storage. "Want to see the rest of the sanctuary while we wait?"

  Sofia nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Yes, please! I'd love to see what everyone's built here."

  Her attempt at normal cheerfulness felt strained, but Kieran seemed to appreciate it, smiling as he led her through various areas of the compound—gardens where people were cultivating vegetables, workshops where crafters created or repaired equipment, training areas where individuals practiced with weapons or what appeared to be magical abilities.

  "People here have started using labels for different fighting styles," Kieran explained as they passed the training grounds where several people sparred. "See that guy with the big hammer? We call him a 'bruiser' because he focuses on strength and heavy weapons. The woman with the daggers is what we call a 'rogue'—fast, agile, focused on precision strikes. The System doesn't actually label us this way, but it helps us organize training and expeditions."

  "Like character classes in games," Sofia observed, momentarily distracted from her sensory overload by genuine interest.

  "Exactly! Though everyone's actually unique—their talents and how they distribute their attribute points make everyone different."

  Throughout their tour, Sofia observed not just with her eyes but with her overwhelmed senses, picking up patterns and undercurrents that might have escaped notice otherwise. The way certain individuals received deference from others. How the best equipment and most spacious quarters seemed allocated to those closest to the council. The hushed conversations that stopped when scouts or guards approached.

  There was order here, yes, but beneath it, something else—a hierarchy forming not just based on necessity, but on power. The sanctuary was functioning, but at what cost? And who ultimately benefited?

  "You're quiet," Kieran noted as they circled back toward the central area. "Overwhelmed?"

  "A bit," Sofia admitted, then forced a smile. "It's a lot to take in, but also kind of amazing, you know? That people have built all this in just a few weeks."

  "It gets easier. Once you can see the System interface, things will make more sense."

  Before she could respond, a bell rang from the central square—three distinct tones that prompted movement throughout the sanctuary. People began heading toward what appeared to be a gathering point near the main gates.

  "That's the expedition call," Kieran explained. "Perfect timing. Let's get you to the assembly point."

  They joined the flow of people moving toward the gates. A small group was forming there—three other newcomers looking as uncertain as Sofia felt, and about a dozen more experienced-looking individuals with better equipment and confident postures.

  A tall woman with dark hair pulled back in a tight braid stood before them, calling for attention. "Afternoon expedition assembly," she announced. "Standard protocol today—first kills for new arrivals, resource gathering, perimeter check. Team assignments are as follows."

  She began listing names and roles. Sofia listened for her own, which eventually came: "Sofia, newcomer, first-kill priority. Team Three with Kieran, Mira, and Damon."

  Kieran gave her an encouraging nod from where he stood nearby. Two others moved to join them—a woman with close-cropped hair and dual daggers at her hips, and a broad-shouldered man carrying what looked like a modified baseball bat studded with metal spikes.

  "I'm Mira," the woman said, her tone businesslike. "I fight using speed and daggers. That's Damon, our heavy-hitter. We'll get you through this safely, but you need to listen to instructions."

  Sofia nodded, feeling a flutter of anxiety in her stomach. This was really happening.

  The expedition leader—who introduced herself as Commander Serra—gave final instructions. Three teams would proceed to different areas around the sanctuary perimeter, each escorting a newcomer. The objective was clear: secure the areas, allow each newcomer to kill a monster to trigger System activation, then return before nightfall.

  The sanctuary gates opened—massive wooden structures reinforced with metal—revealing the world beyond. Sofia had only seen it through her window until now. Open fields extended for about half a kilometer before giving way to scattered buildings in one direction and forest in another.

  "Stay in formation," Serra commanded. "Move out."

  The teams separated, heading in different directions. Sofia's group—Team Three—moved toward what appeared to be an office park in the distance.

  "Standard approach," Kieran said to Sofia as they walked. "We secure the area, find an isolated goblin, weaken it, then you deliver the final blow. Simple and controlled."

  "What if I can't do it?" Sofia asked, the question that had been gnawing at her finally surfacing. "What if I freeze up?"

  "You won't," Mira said flatly. "Survival instinct takes over. Besides, it's not like you have a choice if you want to function normally."

  That was blunt but true. Already, the simple act of walking while processing all the input from her heightened senses was exhausting Sofia. She couldn't imagine living like this indefinitely.

  They reached the office park—a collection of low buildings surrounding a central courtyard, now overgrown with strange plants sporting unnaturally vivid colors. The structures showed signs of damage from whatever cataclysm had accompanied the Merge, with broken windows and partially collapsed sections.

  "Perfect hunting ground," Damon said, speaking for the first time. His voice was surprisingly gentle for his size. "Goblins like to nest in places like this. Complex layout, lots of hiding spots, usually some supplies they can scavenge."

  The team approached cautiously, weapons drawn. Sofia awkwardly unsheathed her short sword, the weight still unfamiliar in her hand.

  "Mira, point," Kieran directed. "Damon, rear guard. I'll stay with Sofia."

  They entered the first building through a broken door, moving in the formation Kieran had specified. Inside, what had once been a reception area lay in ruins—furniture overturned, papers scattered, a thick layer of dust covering everything.

  "Movement, second floor," Mira whispered, pointing toward a staircase. "Two small creatures. Likely goblins."

  Sofia hadn't heard or seen anything to indicate creatures upstairs, yet Mira seemed certain. Some kind of special ability, perhaps?

  "Perfect," Kieran replied. "Let's move up. Sofia, stay behind me until we engage."

  The group ascended the stairs slowly, alert for any sounds. Sofia's heightened senses picked up shuffling movements above them before she could actually see anything—a strange scratching sound, followed by what might have been crude speech in no language she recognized.

  They emerged onto the second floor—an open office space filled with cubicle dividers and abandoned desks. At the far end, two small, humanoid creatures were rummaging through a cabinet. Their skin was a mottled gray-green, their features sharp and rat-like beneath pointed ears. Both wore cobbled-together clothing made from scraps, and one carried what looked like a sharpened piece of metal.

  "Goblins," Kieran whispered. "Low-level, both of them. Perfect for a first kill." He turned to Sofia. "We'll engage and weaken one. When I give the signal, come in for the killing blow. Just a solid strike to the chest or head. The System will do the rest."

  Sofia nodded, her heart hammering so loudly she was sure the creatures would hear it. But they continued their scavenging, unaware of the humans' presence.

  Mira and Kieran moved forward silently, positioning themselves behind cover, while Damon remained with Sofia. At some unspoken signal, they burst from hiding, charging the surprised goblins.

  The creatures shrieked in alarm, brandishing their crude weapons. One immediately engaged with Mira, while Kieran forced the second one into a corner, away from its companion.

  "This one's yours, Sofia," he called, parrying a clumsy strike from the goblin. "It's weakened. Move in now!"

  Sofia hesitated for just a moment, then forced herself forward, sword raised. The goblin saw her approaching and tried to break away from Kieran, but he blocked its escape, leaving it exposed to Sofia's attack.

  Time seemed to slow as Sofia closed the distance. The creature's eyes—yellow with slitted pupils—fixed on her with a mixture of fear and rage. It wasn't mindless, she realized. It understood what was happening.

  But it was trying to kill her friends. Would kill her too, given the chance. In this new world, it was kill or be killed.

  Sofia brought the sword down in an awkward, untrained arc. The blade connected with the goblin's shoulder, cutting deep. The creature shrieked, a sound that pierced Sofia's enhanced hearing like a physical pain. But it wasn't a killing blow.

  "Again!" Kieran shouted. "Finish it!"

  The goblin, wounded but still dangerous, lashed out with its makeshift weapon. Sofia barely dodged, the metal scraping against her leather vest. Instinct took over. She thrust forward with the sword, driving it into the creature's chest.

  Resistance, then a giving way as the blade sank deep. The goblin's eyes widened in shock, then dimmed. Its body began to dissolve into particles of blue light, like something from a video game rather than a true death.

  Sofia staggered backward, sword still raised, as the last motes of light vanished. Then everything changed.