Callum woke up in a hazy blank canvas. Muted colors swirled around him as his mind tried to recall how he got here.

  The last thing he remembered doing was returning to their campsite with his quarry. However, his memory grew fuzzy as he tried to remember what happened before entering this space.

  “What is this place?” He asked.

  His voice echoed in the white void, yet no one answered his query.

  Looking down, he could see his naked self; however, he noted his skin instead. It was the same pale skin he used to have when he was alive. Even the hairs on his forearms were not the white strands he grew accustomed to. Instead, they were dark in color, the same ones he had before he died.

  “That’s…weird,”

  Callum looked around, searching for anything of interest. His eyes tried to parse the area around him, searching for anything that might clue him into what had happened. However, mists of differing colors were the only thing of note inside this white void.

  Callum took a tentative step forward, but the ground beneath him rippled like water, halting him mid-stride. A low hum filled the air as five marbled archways surged upward, their shimmering surfaces alive with shifting rainbow hues.

  They rose gracefully before Callum, stunning him with its beauty. As the rippling floor stilled, the archways began to radiate a brilliant light, momentarily blinding him. Callum saw that each archway revealed a vivid scene on the other side when his vision cleared.

  Curious, Callum walked closer to one of the archways on the left, noting more reddish colors on its surface. Inside, he could see a different version of himself.

  He stood as a warrior, encased in heavy armor that bore the scars of countless battles. He wielded a massive sword in his right hand, its blade gleaming with power, while his left gripped a towering shield that seemed unbreakable. Before him loomed giants, their immense forms casting shadows over the battlefield. Yet, the warrior within the archway moved with unwavering confidence, undeterred by their colossal size. His steps were precise, his strikes relentless, each swing of his sword a calculated dance of destruction. The clash of steel against flesh resounded as he felled one giant after another, his blows shattering the air with their force. When the battle was won, he threw back his head and roared—a primal cry of triumph that echoed to the heavens. Then, it stopped.

  The scene was frozen, and it left Callum in awe.

  “Is this some sort of class selection or something?” Callum asked himself.

  As he looked up, he noticed that each archway featured a distinct symbol. The one he had just observed displayed a sword carved into its keystone. Examining the others from left to right, Callum identified the following symbols: a staff, a bow, a cross, and finally, a hammer.

  He had already guessed what this meant, having read about similar situations in books and mangas. At least, he hoped it was what he thought it was.

  As Callum walked over to the archway on his right, he noticed that its surface displayed more bluish colors, and what was inside further supported his theory.

  Inside, he saw a version of himself draped in a flowing blue cloak. In his hand, he held a staff crowned with a crystal that blazed with a radiant light, as brilliant as the sun. Before him hovered twisting masses of air, their forms flickering between humanoid shapes and chaotic swirls. The elementals moved with terrifying speed, their shrieking winds closing the distance in mere seconds. Yet, with a single, graceful wave of his staff, he summoned a blazing inferno. The flames roared to life, consuming the charging elementals, reducing them to nothing but searing heat and dissipating gusts. With another motion, the fire vanished, snuffed out as if it had never been. He stood tall, nodding to himself as his gaze drifted toward the horizon. Then, it stopped.

  “So it really is a class selection,” Callum realized.

  His body shook in excitement as he walked over to the next one. His mind was abuzz, feeling like he was thrown back into the days when he played those video games. The archway loomed over him, noting how this one had more green on its surface, and inside, he saw someone with a bow.

  He was a hunter, his weapon drawn and ready as he stalked his prey—a pack of wolves prowling the forest floor. Spotting his moment, he loosed an arrow. It streaked through the air with lethal precision, striking the pack's leader. But instead of retreating, the wolves erupted into a frenzy, their howls echoing through the trees as they charged. Discarding his bow, he unsheathed twin daggers, their edges glinting in the dappled light. The fight began in a blur of motion. He moved like the wind, vaulting over snarling jaws and darting between the trees with uncanny agility. His blades flashed with every strike, cutting down the wolves one by one. Blood stained the steel of his daggers, yet his hood remained untouched, a shadowy veil over his face. When the last wolf fell silent, he melted back into the forest, vanishing behind the trees. Pulling his hood tighter, he disappeared into the shadows once more. Then, it stopped.

  “A warrior, a mage, and a hunter. I’m gonna guess that the cross means a cleric, right? And the hammer is some type of crafting class,” Callum noted as he strolled over to the next archway.

  And he was right. The next archway with yellow smatterings of color showed a person in a golden-trimmed white robe.

  He was an acolyte, his right hand gripping an emblem of sacred faith. Around him, shadows writhed and twisted, their grotesque forms defying human comprehension. Blood streamed from his wounds, staining his robes a deep crimson, yet his expression held no fear. Golden light enveloped his hands, the emblem serving as a conduit for divine power. With a sweeping gesture, the light surged outward, obliterating the shadows in a radiant burst. Each vanquished foe mended his broken body, sealing his wounds and undoing the damage of the battle. When the final shadow dissipated into nothingness, he fell to his knees, his head bowed in silent prayer. His whispered thanks to his patron echoed faintly, a moment of solemn reverence. Then, it stopped.

  Seeing himself wielding holy magic, which from what he remembers is the very weakness of the undead, surprised him. With more thought, every other scene he’d watched beyond the archway wasn’t an undead version of him. They looked like Callum before he died.

  “I guess my mind still sees myself as human rather than a zombie,” Callum surmised

  With these thoughts, Callum walked over to the last archway which held the symbol of a hammer. It looked barren compared to the others, its colors a bit unsaturated. However, it didn’t favor one color or any color at all.

  Without much preamble, Callum looked inside. Yet, before he could set his eyes on the other side, he felt the heat that came out of it.

  Inside the archway stood a craftsman, surrounded by tools for a myriad of trades. From woodworking and smithing to tanning and even cooking, his workspace was a tribute to versatility and skill. His apron, caked in dirt and grime, bore testament to countless hours of labor and an unyielding determination to perfect his craft. With a resounding strike of his hammer, he shaped the glowing red iron, bending it to his will. He rotated the metal, each blow deliberate and precise, his focus unwavering. Beads of sweat formed on his creased brow as the knife began to take form, each strike bringing it closer to completion. Finally, with a sharp clang, it was done. He held the newly forged blade aloft, a glimmer of pride flickering in his eyes. A satisfied smile crept across his face as he lowered the knife into a barrel of oil, the sizzling hiss marking its transformation. Anticipation swelled within him—he couldn’t wait to see the result. Then, it stopped.

  Callum stood for a minute as he processed each vision he saw. After seeing everything each archway could offer, he was left with a choice. He was confident that this was a type of class selection, his eyes slowly examining each symbol as he thought of what he should pick.

  First, was the warrior. Although he wouldn’t call himself a professional fighter, he could still throw a nasty punch. Coupled with his undead physique, Callum was sure he could knock someone out with just a slap to the face. However, he was hesitant to pick this option.

  For one, the scene inside the archway showed a brutal vision. He had killed before, but those were game, not humanoids. He grew up thinking that killing was a sin, and the guilt that would come after taking someone’s life would weigh heavily on his mind.

  Another reason was his goal. He doesn’t see himself fighting an endless horde of enemies in the future. Though he could pick it for self-defense, it wouldn’t benefit him in the long run. However, he wouldn’t completely discard it. He had seen firsthand the brutality that happens in this world.

  The second class option was the mage. This class intrigued him the most. As a person born on Earth, the concept of magic being real always excites him. He could already imagine himself flinging fireballs and conjuring ice out of thin air to hurl at his enemies. While he had spent multiple decades performing magic inside his soulscape, Callum hadn’t done it in the real world.

  Not only that, but Callum wants to know how this world functions. If he could learn magic, he could dismantle it and get nitty-gritty with it.

  “Maybe I could even live my Potter fantasies in this world,” Callum said to himself.

  With the knowledge of building trains, Callum was confident that this world has schools related to teaching magic and other professions. The trains might even be made with magical engineering, something Callum was eager to see with his own eyes.

  Next on the roster was the hunter. If the warrior class deals with humanoids, the hunter deals with the wild. From what he’d seen, its focus is set in nature. It hunts and tracks beasts, using stealth and patience as weapons to deal a deathly blow.

  He had some experience with hunting, having spent most of his summer camping with his father and tracking game. His first hunt remained a cherished memory, and his father’s old hunting rifle now hung proudly in his apartment

  It also allows Callum to explore the wild, and the allure of taming mythical creatures fuels his dream of riding a dragon.

  Then, there’s the last two.

  The priest class gave Callum pause. It confuses him why he was given the option to wield holy magic when his body couldn’t handle divine energies. Maybe it’s because of his constant prayers to the dead for the past couple of days. However, that wouldn’t explain why it was given to him.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Unless the classes were based on my experiences,” Callum deduced.

  A warrior would make sense since he had been doing boxing as a hobby when he was alive. For the mage, he figured his magical practice in his soulscape and revival checked some hidden requirements for the class. The hunter also makes sense since he had gone hunting with his dad. He guessed he was given the crafting class because he worked multiple labor-intensive work in his quest to find his father. So in the end, it would make sense for him to also be given the priest class.

  Though, with his undead physique, the class would be useless. It might even be detrimental since he would essentially wield poison, damaging himself in the process.

  With a shake of his head, Callum discarded the class. He doesn’t see any benefit from picking it, and there are more enticing classes he could choose from, which leads to his final option—the crafter.

  From what he had seen beyond the archway, the crafting class was versatile. It has the most potential out of every other class he was given, making his path broad and unfocused. Also, if he was correct in thinking that he was in a world with some type of system, there would be another class selection that would be the next upgrade to the class he’d pick here. However, he still has his concerns.

  One reason he hesitated in choosing this class was the difficulty of building a foundation. He had an inkling that people didn’t take kindly to friendly undead, the person who pursued Nicholas and his sister was an example of what reaction people might have when they see him. He couldn’t be sure, but he felt like that boy knew what he truly was. His eyes showed more fear when their eyes met. And Callum’s eyes were a huge dead giveaway to his undead nature.

  Another reason was his plans for the future. Callum still sees himself exploring the world, unshackled by responsibility or duty. He doesn’t see himself locked inside a room for multiple hours just to finish a project. He already has the experience in spades when he was a corpse, and the promise of adventure is more enticing than creating powerful armor.

  So, with much thought, Callum was left with three options; Warrior, Mage, or Hunter.

  These three classes gave Callum the ability to defend himself and his allies. Especially the mage class, since it has a lot of potential in the long term. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. The people that kid he spared were monsters, and Callum would bet his money that they would come back to finish the job by killing the siblings.

  It may be hopeful thinking that maybe, just maybe, the person he spared wouldn’t say a word about what happened. However, he can’t be sure about that. Additionally, he may have painted a target on his back when he showed his dominating aura that made people kneel. Lastly, Callum said he would protect the siblings from the people after them. At least, until they are safe inside a town or city.

  With these reasons in mind, Callum created a list of what he needs from his class. One was an immediate power-up. Second was it’s potential in the future. And third, was its use in exploration.

  Although Callum really wanted to pick the mage class, he doesn’t see it as benefiting him now. He would have to learn how to use it in the real world, and he wasn’t confident that it wouldn’t blow up in his face, killing him in the process.

  In his imaginary world, he has the leeway to use magic. He was essentially immortal in there, his imagined body incapable of sustaining injuries. He knows this because he has tested it for decades.

  So with reluctance, Callum crossed it off from his options. It’s not the end of the world though. Callum still thinks that he could learn magic. It might just take more effort than having a class suited for it.

  Now, he was left with two options; Warrior, or Hunter. One gives him the ability to fight and defend himself, while the other gives him the ability to sustain his hunger.

  The two classes would give him a fighting chance against his enemies. Not only that, but it gives him a higher chance to survive in this world. He’d already seen horned rabbits and sentient trees, who’s to say he wouldn’t encounter a griffin and a wyvern? Although his body is much more sturdy than before, Callum isn’t confident he can take a truck-sized claw from a tarrasque.

  “But which class has more potential?” Callum asked himself.

  His gut tells him that this isn’t a one-time thing. He read and watched a lot of stories about Isekai, and he was convinced that there would be an opportunity to upgrade his class in the future. Although he couldn't be one hundred percent sure, he was confident in his theory.

  The warrior class would give him fighting skills, and he hedged a guess that the upgrades would focus on that aspect. On the other hand, the hunter class would cater to people who prefer stealth and preparation, and he could already see an upgrade relating to espionage.

  Callum hummed as he thought about his options, putting the two skills on the scales as he weighed each of them for his future. This choice would dictate the start of his journey, and picking one on impulse would be bad for his potential. Then, with a nod, Callum came to a decision.

  He walked to each archway, looking at the scene beyond it one last time as he stopped in front of his chosen class. Its surface showed more red, yet the different colors it held gave Callum hope for the future. It meant his class wasn’t set in stone, and his experiences would dictate the next turning point in his path.

  Taking a deep breath, Callum entered the archway holding the sword symbol. With the looming threats of the people pursuing the siblings, Callum needs an immediate upgrade. He might’ve picked the hunter class if his goal was exploration. However, that wouldn’t help with his survivability in direct confrontation. The warrior class did, and he hoped he chose right as he stepped into the archway.

  He was blinded by a flash of light when he walked in, his body weightless before feeling the solid ground beneath him again. Opening his eyes, he saw a rugged man standing before him.

  They were shackled, a heavy ball chained to their ankles as they looked at Callum with crazed eyes. His mind was still reeling from his transport, and when he calmed down, the memories started to enter his psyche.

  He remembered this man. He was the one who killed his father in front of him. He was the one who pushed Callum to learn how to fight, the one who fueled his revenge until they were killed.

  With his sword in hand, Callum approached the murderer. They did nothing but smile as he neared, further angering him.

  “Any last words?” Callum asked.

  “Killing your father was the height of my life,” the prisoner said.

  With those last words, Callum swung his sword. It met no resistance as he sliced the man’s head off from his body. Blood spewed from the cut jugular, bathing Callum in blood. With a thud, the man was no more, his headless body motionless on the ground which pooled with crimson blood.

  Callum breathed heavily, staring wide-eyed at the man he had murdered. With a clang, the sword he held fell to the floor, his hands shaking from the deed he had done. The memories instilled into him weren’t his, yet it felt real. Looking at his trembling arms, Callum saw his pale white skin.

  Black veins wrapped around the hand he used to kill the man, consuming his arm until it rotted from its bones. Callum screamed in agony as it kept eating away at his arm, reaching his shoulders and neck, until it met his head.

  He continued screaming as he fell to the ground, facing the head of the man. Their eyes met, and he could see his reflection from their irises. His eyes which looked human were turning into the abyss, the screams of the dead villagers echoing in his head as Callum felt his body rot and decay. He yelled in pain until his mouth turned to sludge, horror seizing him until he was no more.

  ***

  Callum woke up with a jolt, his breaths coming in quickly as he looked around with frantic eyes. He could see the sibling looking at him weirdly, a fire made by Nicholas already roasting the jackalope he had hunted during the night.

  “Had a nightmare?” Nicholas asked.

  “Yeah. I think?” Callum answered as he cradled his head with his hand.

  The last thing he remembered was killing somebody after his memories got altered, and then everything went black. His arms still shook as Callum sat up from where he lay. He didn’t remember falling asleep, a concerning thought after learning his undead capabilities.

  “How long have I been sleeping,” Callum asked as he felt the cloth still on his face.

  “Just a few hours. Though you were still sleeping when I woke up, so I don’t know how many,” Nicholas replied.

  “You mumble in your sleep,” Sabrina stated matter of factly.

  Callum chuckled at her comment, calming his mind as he stood from where he sat.

  “Sabrina,” Nicholas warned.

  “But it’s true!” Sabrina insisted.

  Seeing the two bicker calmed Callum. However, a sharp pain in his stomach made him remember why he hunted some game.

  His stomach growled, arms clenching his insides as he controlled his instincts.

  “Here,” Nicholas said as he handed Callum a roasted rabbit.

  Nicholas thanked Callum for his initiative to hunt, but his mind was solely focused on the meal in front of him. With trembling hands, Callum reached for the roasted rabbit, remembering that his face was covered in cloth.

  “I’m gonna head inside the forest for a bit,” Callum said.

  “Why?” Sabrina asked.

  “Just gonna look around,” He answered as he strolled over the trees, meal in hand.

  When he was far enough, Callum unwrapped his face, his mouth already filled with drool as he feasted his eyes upon his breakfast.

  “Bon appetit,” He said before devouring his meal, bones and all.

  He moaned in satisfaction with each bite, jaws chewing loudly as he savored every piece. He couldn’t care less if his face was covered in oil, his mind only set on enjoying his food. Callum dropped the stick when nothing was left, only to find out he’d also eaten it from his undead delirium.

  With a sigh, Callum took off his shirt, using it as a napkin while retrieving a new one from his travel bag. He changed into it, ripping the old one into strips he used to wrap around his head.

  Making sure that his face was fully covered, Callum walked back to their campsite, the campfire having been put out as Nicholas and Sabrina walked over to him.

  “Ready to continue our journey?” Nicholas asked.

  With a nod from Callum, the trio started their stroll.

  The siblings took the lead, Nicholas holding his sister's hand as they stepped over branches and mud, the sun still making its way up the horizon as they marched toward the river. When they reached it, they followed it upstream, watching its waters as they walked silently.

  Callum’s mind was still stuck thinking about his dream. He still remembered picking a class, yet he felt no different when he woke up. He grew unsure whether it was real, his curiosity rising until he couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Hey,” Callum said, gaining the attention of the siblings.

  “Do you know anything about class selections?” he asked.

  The two siblings perked up, their eyes widening in recognition as they looked between Callum and each other. When they recovered, Nicholas was the first to answer his question.

  “You had an Aethos?” Nicholas asked.