Ethan spun slowly, eyes wide as glowing panels circled around him like some futuristic character selection screen. His heart pounded—not from fear, but from sheer excitement.
"Yo… this is nuts," he muttered, stepping forward, grinning like a kid in an apocalyptic candy store.
Each class hovered midair, flickering with a faint glow. Names and short descriptions floated beside them like holographic banners. His grin widened.
Bladebound. Farsight Ranger. Brutecarver. Phantom Dancer.
"Okay, okay—these sound SICK," he barked, pacing between them with a swagger that would've looked cocky if it weren't so natural. "I mean—Bladebound? That's like samurai vibes, right? Farsight Ranger? What am I, Legolas?"
He spun dramatically toward the Brutecarver panel, eyes gleaming like a predator spotting prey.
"Ohoho, now this one's got my name all over it," he said, grabbing the interface with both hands. "Brute. Carver. Hell yeah! Just the name makes me wanna smash something!"
He turned around mid-step, just to admire the rest—only to realize several glowing panels beyond these were dimmed and sealed off.
He blinked. "Huh?"
He tried reaching toward one, only to be met with a flat chime and a floating message:
> "Class unavailable. Requirements not met."
Ethan frowned. "Tch—figures. Lock the good stuff behind secret boss achievements or whatever." He scratched the back of his neck, muttering. "Bet there's some 'Legendary Soul' title I don't have yet. Lame."
Still, his eyes snapped back to the four classes he could choose. He bounced slightly on his heels, almost vibrating with indecision.
"This is permanent, huh?" he asked aloud, mostly to himself—but SGPT100 responded anyway:
> "Affirmative. Your choice cannot be undone."
Ethan grinned. That only made it more fun.
He threw his arms wide. "Alright, let's freaking GO!"
Then he paused, eyebrows raising as his grin returned in full force.
"…Do I pick the classy sword guy, the sneaky shadow dude, the cool bow elf, or the loud, meat-smashing gorilla?"
He crossed his arms, thinking hard—but clearly loving every second of it.
"Ugh! Why do they all sound so awesome?!"
After several rounds of pacing, spinning in place, mock sword slashing, imaginary bow-shooting, and pretending to punch a dragon in the face, Ethan finally stopped.
He pointed at the Brutecarver panel like he was calling out a rival in a shonen anime.
"All right! I choose you, Brutecarver!" he yelled, loud enough to echo into the void. "Time to SMASH my way into destiny!"
> "Class selection confirmed."
SGPT100's voice chimed in, calm as ever—clearly unfazed by Ethan's volume.
> "Congratulations, Traveler Ethan. You are now registered as a Brutecarver. Initializing loadout…"
With a soft shimmer of light, his body was suddenly wrapped in rough, primal-looking gear—tattered beast-hide armor lined with metal fragments, and in his hand, a massive slab of iron molded into a cleaver-axe hybrid. It looked like it was made from a car's engine block and a bear trap.
Ethan looked at his weapon, jaw slack with wonder. "Yo… is this thing made of a demolished truck?! This is so badass."
He gave it a test swing, the sheer weight of it pulling him slightly off balance.
He laughed, delighted. "Heavy as hell. I LOVE IT."
The interface around him shifted again. The class panel dissolved, replaced by a floating blue stat screen with digital sliders and blinking numbers.
> "Please assign your 10 free points."
[Strength: 10] [Endurance: 10] [Agility: 10] [Intelligence: 10] [Perception: 10] [Luck: 10]
[Available Points: 10]
Ethan rubbed his chin, deep in thought.
"Hmmm… alright, let's see. Do I want to be a strong meathead, or a super strong meathead? Choices, choices."
He chuckled to himself, eyes locked on the Strength stat like it owed him money
Ethan stared at the screen, then remembered something.
"Oh wait—stats can be traded, right?" he muttered, already poking at the interface like a kid trying cheat codes.
A soft beep confirmed his action.
> "Confirmed. Deducting 2 points from each base attribute to convert into 10 additional free points."
> [10 points acquired. Total available: 20]
Without even blinking, Ethan slammed all 20 into Strength with the confidence of a man who'd punch a mountain just to prove a point.
> "Point allocation complete."
He laughed—no, howled—and slammed his giant weapon into the ground like a flag of victory.
"OH RIGHT!! Now that's what I'm TALKING about!! WOOHOO!!"
The stat screen updated in front of him, glowing brighter as it displayed his final distribution:
---
Ethan Castille – Class: Brutecarver
Attribute
[Strength: 30] [Endurance: 8] [Agility: 8] [Intelligence: 8] [Perception: 8] [Luck: 8]
[Available Points: 0]
---
Ethan cracked his knuckles, then grabbed his oversized cleaver and rested it on his shoulder like it was light as a twig.
"Max Strength, baby. If I can't solve a problem by hitting it harder, it's not my kind of problem."
SGPT100 chimed in again, flat and factual:
> "Stat allocation confirmed. Warning: Strength score is abnormally high for initial stage. Combat balancing may be affected."
Ethan just grinned wider, his shark-like teeth flashing.
"Perfect."
As the stat screen faded, another prompt slid into place with a subtle hum. This time, four glowing icons appeared before Ethan, each one pulsing with energy—red, blue, green, and black. The titles alone made his blood pump harder.
> "Trait Selection Required. Choose one trait to enhance your class: Brutecarver."
---
Berserker's Will - Gain a massive strength boost when health drops below 30%. Enter an unstoppable rage state for 10 seconds.
Iron Hide - Reduces all incoming physical damage by 20%. Scales with Strength.
Impact Frenzy - Each heavy hit builds up Frenzy. At 5 stacks, your next attack deals double damage and knocks enemies back.
Blood Feast - Small chance to recover HP with each kill. Increases with strength and consecutive eliminations.
---