Chapter 01 (Healer)

No, no, not again!" James shouted, his voice tinged with frustration as he clutched his face in dismay. For the past several days, he had been attempting a no-hit run in Elden Ring, a challenge that had consumed his every waking moment. He had managed to navigate the treacherous lands of the Lands Between unscathed—until Malenia, Blade of Miquella. She was a boss unlike any other, a whirlwind of death and despair that had broken even the most seasoned players. Defeating her with the starting club, without taking a single hit, was a feat that bordered on madness. Yet, it was this very madness that drew James in. The frustration was palpable, but so was the exhilaration. If it were easy, it would be meaningless. The triumph of conquering her with such a handicap was what made it worthwhile.

James had already exhausted every possible build in Elden Ring. He had mastered the art of the sword, the finesse of magic, and the brutality of strength-based weapons. But it was the challenge of the no-hit run that truly captivated him. He thrived on the difficulty, the precision, the sheer audacity of it all. It wasn’t just about winning—it was about proving something to himself.

His love for punishingly difficult games extended beyond Elden Ring. He had poured countless hours into the Monster Hunter series, where every battle was a dance of strategy and skill. Wilds had been a bit too forgiving for his taste, but it still offered moments of pure joy. There was something deeply satisfying about shattering the legs of a towering spider or severing the tentacles of a monstrous octopus.

James favored the hammer and dual blades—a perfect combination for breaking bones and slicing through flesh. The visceral reactions of the monsters were what made it so rewarding. The way they crumpled to the ground, screaming in agony after a well-placed Big Bang combo to the head, was nothing short of cathartic. Or the thrill of spinning across a monster’s back with the dual blades, channeling his inner Levi from Attack on Titan. It was a symphony of destruction, and James was the conductor.

Another series that had captured his heart was Dishonored. He had achieved every possible accolade, from ghosting through missions unseen to unleashing maximum chaos. The game was a masterpiece in his eyes, a testament to the beauty of player choice. It was a shame the studio hadn’t continued the series. The game’s relatively short length and lack of an open world didn’t detract from its brilliance—it was a tightly crafted experience that rewarded creativity. James had played it every way imaginable: sparing every life, taking every life, and even challenging himself by forgoing the Outsider’s powers. Each playthrough was a new adventure, a new story to tell.

Once he finally conquered Malenia, James planned to dive into the Elden Ring DLC. And after that? He could only hope Night Rain would be available. The game promised a fusion of Elden Ring and Monster Hunter, a combination that sounded like a dream come true. But before he could face Malenia once more, a loud voice interrupted his thoughts.

"James, come down quickly! We need to hide. Aliens are attacking us!"

He frowned, puzzled. His mother wasn’t the type for pranks. She was the polar opposite of James—a fitness enthusiast who lived on a diet of kale and quinoa, while he preferred the indulgent pleasures of barbecue. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her crack a joke, let alone something as absurd as an alien invasion. Pranks, in general, weren’t his thing. They always felt forced, cringe-worthy. Dark humor was more his speed.

"Yeah, not funny, Mum..." he began, but his words were cut short as the roof above him was violently torn away. A blinding white light enveloped him, and before he could process what was happening, he was ripped from his home.

Disoriented, James found himself hovering in the air, the remnants of his house crumbling around him. The next moment, he was standing in a cold, metallic room. His eyes burned from the intensity of the light, and even with them closed, he could see dark spots dancing across his vision. Before he could gather his thoughts, a surge of raw energy coursed through his body. It felt like touching a live wire with wet fingers—sharp, electric, and over in an instant.

A mechanical voice echoed in his mind, cold and impersonal.

Integration complete. I hereby welcome you to the Zevathar Empire. 

You will soon be placed in the lowest level of The Nexus of Trials. 

Prove yourself worthy and become a valuable part of the Zevathar Empire.

Now, choose your class. 

James blinked, his mind racing. This wasn’t a prank. This wasn’t a game. This was real. And somehow, against all odds, he felt a flicker of excitement. A new challenge awaited him, one far greater than any he had faced before.

Wow, what the fuck is happening here?" James muttered under his breath, his voice trembling with a mix of confusion and disbelief. Had he really been abducted? By aliens? And now he was supposed to choose a class? This was beyond bizarre. His mind raced as he tried to make sense of the situation, but the cold, metallic walls of his cramped cell offered no answers. The space was so tight he could barely move, let alone raise his arms. It felt like being trapped in a coffin made of steel.

Suddenly, a small screen materialized before his eyes, hovering in the air like something out of a Marvel movie. It reminded him of Tony Stark’s holographic displays, sleek and futuristic. With a hesitant touch, James began scrolling through the options presented to him. A faint smile crept across his face despite the absurdity of it all. "Wow, this is actually kind of cool," he thought, his fingers gliding over the translucent interface. But his excitement quickly waned as he realized the options were limited—far more limited than he would have liked. If this was some kind of video game, he was already at a disadvantage. Could he even earn achievements here? Probably not, but damn, that would be a nice feature. Those aliens really needed to step up their game.

His thoughts were interrupted as he stumbled upon another window labeled "Party Members." 

Ruppert - Heavy Warrior 

Sara - Fire Mage 

James - 

Wait, they had already chosen their classes? Damn. That complicated things. Picking a mage or heavy warrior now would probably throw off the team balance. Mages were usually overpowered, with devastating spells, mana shields, and movement skills that made them nearly untouchable. Heavy warriors, on the other hand, were the tanks—unstoppable juggernauts that could soak up damage and protect the team. If James wanted to maximize their chances of survival, the logical choice would be to take on the role of a healer or an archer.

Archers were often overpowered in games, especially in Monster Hunter Wilds, where precision and agility could turn the tide of any battle. But healers? They were always in the spotlight, the first target in any fight. James had never played a healer before, but the idea intrigued him. Being the most important person in the group had its appeal, and if something had happened to his family, he might even be able to heal them. It wasn’t the worst choice, but he needed to see all his options before committing.

He scrolled back up to the list of available classes. At the top were various types of warriors—heavy, light, and everything in between. Warriors boasted enhanced vitality and strength, with heavy warriors excelling in toughness and light warriors in agility. Next came the mages, each specializing in a different elemental affinity: fire, lightning, water, earth, and more. Earth and water mages caught his eye immediately. They seemed versatile, with a wide range of abilities that could adapt to almost any situation.

"Hey, you stupid a—ah, shit!" James cursed, but the moment the words left his mouth, a searing pain shot through his body. His vision blurred, and he felt a metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Great. So the aliens were big on enforcing politeness. Free speech was clearly not a priority here.

"Dear aliens," James began, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "are there ways to upgrade classes later or buy spells?" He didn’t expect an answer, but to his surprise, a mechanical voice echoed in his mind.

Yes 

The response was cold and impersonal, but it was enough to make James’s heart race. What had they done to him? Did they implant some kind of chip in his brain? The thought sent a shiver down his spine, but he pushed it aside. He had more pressing questions.

"So, how do I change my class or buy skills? Is there a shop where I can exchange merit points? Or is it tied to levels? Wait, are there levels? Can I earn experience?" The questions tumbled out of him in a rapid-fire stream. His mind was a whirlwind of possibilities. Were there critical strike chances? Status effects like poison or paralysis? The interface, however, was less than helpful, responding only with the same mechanical Yes. 

Okay, so there were ways to customize his character, to build something truly powerful. That made the mage class even more appealing. With the right upgrades and skills, he could become a force to be reckoned with. But first, he needed to survive whatever trial awaited him. And if these aliens thought they could break him, they had another thing coming. James clenched his fists, a determined glint in his eyes. He was ready to play their game and win.

James frowned as he weighed his options. The archer class, while appealing in its simplicity, felt too restrictive. With mages, there was potential for versatility—tank builds, assassin archetypes, even illusion or mental skills seemed possible. But archers? They were straightforward, focused on agility, strength, and perception. Sure, they could evolve into rangers or hunters, but that didn’t excite him. He needed something with more impact, something that could turn the tide in dire situations.

Scrolling further, he landed on the healer class. Unlike the mages, there were no subcategories here—just "healer." The stats, however, caught his attention: intelligence, vitality, and agility. It was a solid combination. Intelligence would boost his healing abilities, vitality would allow him to survive a hit or two, and agility would keep him mobile. If they were up against intelligent monsters or even the aliens themselves, he knew they’d target him first. But with these stats, he might just buy enough time for his team to react.

The thought of being a healer intrigued him. He didn’t want to be the kind who just stood in the back, mindlessly casting healing spells. No, he wanted to be proactive, someone who could hold his own in a fight while keeping his team alive. But how could he upgrade the class? The mechanical voice had been less than helpful, responding to his questions with a single, infuriating Yes. 

 He tried to refine his questions, asking yes-or-no queries in the hope of extracting more information, but all he got was another painful shock for his efforts.

"Will we be forced to fight other humans or monsters?" James asked, his voice tinged with frustration. If the answer was yes, then maybe the archer would be the safer choice. If his team fell, he’d be defenseless as a healer early on.

Yes 

The voice’s response was immediate and unyielding. Before he could process the implications, a new message appeared.

You have twenty seconds left to choose a class. If you do not choose, you will be assigned one randomly 

James clenched his fists, his mind racing. He hated being rushed, especially by a disembodied, mechanical voice that seemed to take pleasure in his discomfort. But he didn’t have time to dwell on it. If he wanted to keep his team alive—if he wanted to ensure no one died—then the healer was the obvious choice. It wasn’t just about survival; it was about responsibility. He couldn’t let anyone down.

With a decisive tap, he selected the healer class. Instantly, a wave of energy surged through his body, but unlike the previous shocks, this one felt… good. It was warm, invigorating, like waking up from a long, restful sleep. His vision sharpened, and the lingering aches from his earlier ordeal vanished. He felt rejuvenated, ready for whatever came next.

A new window materialized before him, its bold letters reading: Status Screen. James’s heart raced as he leaned in, eager to see what his new role entailed. This was it—the beginning of something far greater than he could have imagined.

Status:
Name: James Braun
Age: 19
Height: 1.82
Level: 0
Race:  Common Human (H)
Class: Healer (Common)
Health: 100/100
Mana: 120/120
Stamina: 130/130
Experience: 0/100

Stats:
Strength: 8
Agility : 11
Endurance : 13
Intelligence : 15
Wisdom : 12
Dexterity : 5
Perception : 7
Toughness : 3
Vitality : 10


Skills:
Heal (Common)

Titles:
none

Bloodline:
none