I opened my eyes, yawned, stretched, and enjoyed the feeling—a pleasant warmth in every cell of my body. A full night’s sleep had finally brought me back to feeling human, and damn, I missed it.
What a strange dream.
It felt so real. All those sleepless nights had taken a heavy toll on me. I froze in surprise. I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this good. Guilt flooded me, choking my throat, reminding me why I hadn’t felt this good in ages. I rubbed the sore spot on my chest, grief waiting just below the surface. It was always lurking around the corner, ready to drag me back down and remind me of what I’d lost.
Time to get up.
I sat up in bed to get up and froze. Something was alive in me—a sense of being whole for the first time, like a missing piece had clicked into place, bridging some long-broken gap I always carried. It felt like I’d swallowed sunlight, each cell alive with warmth, as though I’d finally stepped free of a shadow. Not a hum or a buzz, but a quiet current of life under my skin, steady and grounding. I ran my fingers along my arm, almost expecting the feeling to vanish at my touch. But it didn’t. Energy thrummed under my skin, grounding me in reality and reassuring me I wasn’t going crazy. It wasn’t some bizarre fever dream.
Part of me resisted, ready to dismiss it as another mental trick, brought on by grief and insomnia. But the sensation was undeniable, buzzing beneath my skin, daring me to ignore it. A strange, disbelieving laugh tore out of me. My fingers tingled. I flexed my hands, feeling the energy pulse beneath my skin. For the first time in months, the grief in my heart and mind faded, just a little, replaced by something new, something… alive.
Frowning, I sat up and stared at the empty air in front of me, half expecting something to appear like it had yesterday. Nothing. I squinted, concentrating harder, trying to summon that strange red dot I’d seen in the corner of my vision. Still nothing. I closed my eyes and willed it into existence. There was only black with a faint light outline when I turned my face toward the window. Running a hand through my hair, I grumbled to myself, embarrassed. Maybe it was in my head, some trick from a mind worn out by sleepless nights and grief. But after the last 24 hours, it felt worth another try.
I closed my eyes again, repeating the same mental ‘click’ I’d done before, focusing on the exact spot where the dot had been. Nothing. Determined, I mumbled, “Red dot,” then, a little louder, “Gate Traveler.” The room stayed quiet, stubbornly ordinary, as if I hadn’t been standing at the edge of something impossible just a day ago.
I rubbed my face in frustration. Clearly, I was missing something. If the screen wouldn’t reveal itself willingly, I’d have to find another way to reach it.
I grabbed my phone, hoping to find answers online. Holding my breath, fingers crossed, I pressed the power button. The screen flickered to life. Yesterday, it had been dead as a doornail, but now—somehow—it worked, though the battery was on its last fumes.
I typed ‘Gate Traveler’ into Google, fingers tapping impatiently as the results loaded. A list of links appeared, and I sifted through the first page, then the second, the third, and the fourth. Everything was about The Traveler’s Gate Trilogy. Not exactly the earth-shattering revelation I was hoping for. I read the book’s blurb, looking for anything that might hint at what I was going through, but it was all just fantasy, nothing close to what I’d experienced.
Oh well, keep looking.
Page after page, from garage doors to an electronic music piece on Spotify—each link felt more absurd and irrelevant than the last. I clicked, scrolled, and sighed as ‘Gate Traveler’ yielded nothing but dead ends.
I clenched my teeth, frustration mounting, and the helplessness struck that same familiar nerve. Grief and anger had become so intertwined I couldn’t tell one from the other, and now this bizarre quest for answers was doing the same.
“Come on,” I muttered, gripping the phone tighter. “You’re Google. You’re supposed to know everything! I mean, you’re the almighty algorithm, right?” I argued, shaking my head at the absurdity. “Gate Traveler, other worlds… Come on, throw me a bone here.”
The screen blinked back, blankly oblivious, full of the same useless results, like it was actively withholding answers—just pages of noise and nonsense when I needed an actual answer. I rubbed a hand over my face, even more frustrated. So many pages, and not one of them had what I needed. Just a tangled mess of automated gates, vacation sales, and novelty shirts.
“Useless algorithm,” I accused Google.
I typed “Gate to Another World” into the search bar, hit enter, and watched as the results populated the screen. Pages and pages of links to Goodreads with novels on the topic. I wasted half a day reading blurb after blurb, hoping one of them would have some kind of connection. But every book was just fiction—no hints, no factual information. Just stories.
I kept digging. I skimmed through dozens of pages until I found references to old legends. I clicked on every link and read stories about ancient portals, elven worlds, Asgard, and mythical realms, searching for anything relevant. All these stories were very far removed from my experience and offered no answers—another dead end.
What now?
My mind spun with the dead ends, and my stomach growled, reminding me I needed fuel to figure this out. During dinner, I remembered I got a class, and there was a mention of level 1 and points. It was worth a try.
Back at the hotel, I pulled out my phone, typed them into the search bar, and hit enter. Instantly, the results poured in—a mash-up of learning institutions and gaming forums. I hesitated, staring at the wall of links to gamer discussions. At 37 and having never picked up a controller, starting now seemed a bit late, but there was nothing else to go on.
Games it is. God, my life is weird.
The forums were a linguistic maze—‘tank,’ ‘DPS,’ ‘buffs,’ and ‘nerfs’ stacked like code. Each term sent me scrambling back to Google for a definition, and every answer left me even more baffled. Five minutes in, I had nothing but a headache. These gamers were passionate in their discussions, but none of it connected to what I experienced. Another dead end.
A few pages in, I came across something new: books in a genre called LitRPG. I’d never even heard of it. Curious, I pulled up Wikipedia, scanning for anything that might fit with what I went through. And there it was: mentions of class levels and stat points for character attributes. Ridiculous as it seemed, there was a strange comfort in finding even vague parallels. Maybe there was a grain of truth in fiction, after all. Part of me was stunned by the absurdity, the distance from my old life, and the grief that marked the last few months. And yet, here I was. My eyes glued to the screen, a strange mixture of excitement and disbelief dancing in my stomach.
Finally, I found something that matched my experience. I could barely believe it.
I sat back, fingers still hovering over the screen, as the weight of it all sank in. Part of me wanted to laugh; another part wanted to curl up, cover my head with a blanket like I used to when I was little, and pretend none of this had happened. Gate Traveler. Level 1. This was my life now—a strange new truth measured in numbers, as if I’d stumbled into someone else’s story.
I scrolled down and reached an Examples section. It had a listing of eight book series. Rather than chase more random Google results, I paused. Maybe these books held something valuable, some insight I’d been missing. I closed the app and gazed at the ceiling for a moment. A laugh slipped out, equal parts dread and amusement.
Welcome to your new reality, John.
I skimmed blurb after blurb, hunting for answers but finding none. From tower climbing to dungeon crawling—whatever that was—and cultivation, another mystery entirely. Sure, they all sounded like a fun read, but I was here for answers, damn it!
Hmm, I need a different approach.
I typed “classes and levels” into Google, and the screen filled with results—mostly forums and discussion groups. Skimming past the endless gaming threads, I focused on the book forums instead. Maybe they’d be a little easier to follow. When I clicked into a discussion, I found the posts filled with acronyms and jargon that seemed like code. The gaming forums had nothing on the book forums—they blew them out of the water with a whole new language.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
Every other word was a mystery, forcing me to stop and Google acronyms or terms to make sense of a single sentence. After five minutes of this back-and-forth, my patience wore thin—it felt like trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing. With a sigh, I shook my head and left the forums, heading back to the search bar, still determined to find something that didn’t require a translator. I was way too much of a “noob” for this.
Hey, look at me. I’m using the correct jargon.
After scrolling down for a while, I finally started seeing some promising results. I stumbled upon a promising series with a main character named John—it almost felt like fate.
In the first chapter, the MC got a spirit helper.
I wish I had a spirit helper, an AI, or something to help me navigate this strange situation. Or even Clippy from old-school Word. Anything with a personality to guide me through this madness would be nice.
I snorted. Wouldn’t that be something—a cheerful virtual assistant popping up in this bizarre setup?
Suddenly, I KNEW it was impossible. A chill ran through me, shocking me into stillness. I didn’t have to guess; I knew. The certainty sat there, solid and immovable, like it had always been a part of me. I hadn’t figured it out through logic or reason; it was more like a memory surfacing, fully formed.
I took a breath, letting the strange knowledge settle in, trying to make sense of it. Where had this certainty come from? The only explanation that made sense was the Gate Traveler class. Somehow, it downloaded knowledge into my brain. It was extremely alarming, to say the least. The realization that now I knew things but didn’t understand anything was bizarre and quite alarming. I rubbed my face.
That’s how split personality disorder starts.
After considering it for a while, I set it aside. I couldn’t change it or do anything about it, so why bother driving myself crazy? I had a book to read in search of answers.
The next thing I discovered was the “Status Screen.”
“Status Screen,” I mumbled, hoping speaking aloud would trigger something. Nothing.
I frowned, trying again, a little louder. “Status Screen.” Still nothing.
I crossed my arms, my frustration rising. “Come on, there has to be a way to access it. There was a mention of stat points, so it has to exist, right?”
Still no answer.
Determined, I went back to my phone and scanned Google results and forums. Eventually, I found a few other names that might work.
“Status,” I said. Silence.
“Profile,” I tried, tapping my fingers impatiently. Nothing.
“Character Sheet.” I released a slow, frustrated breath as I stared at the empty air. Still nothing.
“Alright, next up… ‘My Status.’” Silence.
“My Stats?” I said, feeling ridiculous.
“My Profile … My Character Sheet.” Each attempt fell flat. I even tried every phrase with “John’s…” at the start, becoming more irritated by the second.
I threw up my hands. “How the hell am I supposed to figure out my personal information?”
Text scrolled into view, appearing out of nowhere.
I froze, staring at the screen in disbelief as it blinked to life, as if it had been listening all along. After a beat, I let my arms flop to my sides and muttered, “Might as well have tried ‘Open Sesame’ at this rate.”
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td width="576">
PERSONAL INFORMATION
Name: John Rue
Age: 37
Class: Gate Traveler Level 1
Gates to the next level: 0/3
Class Abilities:
? Conversion
? Travelers’ Archive
? Identify
Health: 1550/1550
Mana: 3000/3000
Strength: 17
Agility: 15
Constitution: 10
Vitality: 21
Intelligence: 15
Wisdom: 10
Perception: 8
Trait points: 5
Ability points: 1
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
And there it was—my Profile. Just hanging in the air, every line of text clear, like someone had etched it into reality. I blinked, half-thinking it might vanish, but it didn’t. It stayed there, steady, unshakable. I stared, reading each line slowly to let it all sink in. My name, my age, the class “Gate Traveler.” Abilities like “Conversion” and “Traveler’s Archive,” and these weird numbers next to “Mana” and “Strength.” Each line was like a piece of some bizarre puzzle I’d stumbled into, making everything feel more real by the second.
A laugh bubbled up, equal parts dread and amazement. Sure, I’d expected to find something, but this… this wasn’t some made-up fantasy. This was me, laid out in numbers, like I was a character in some wild game. My stomach somersaulted—part excitement, part pure terror. This was real. More real than anything I’d felt in ages. A big part of me wanted to look away, to shut it all out, pretend it never happened, but something deeper kept me glued to the text box. I exhaled, both lighter and heavier, realizing this was my life now—mapped out in numbers, abilities, and a new reality I couldn’t ignore.
The energy thrumming inside me suddenly made sense. Startling clarity clicked into place. Mana. I had mana. The thought took a minute to sink in, and even then, I had to process it, one piece at a time. All my life, I’d tackled things logically, analyzing everything. I’d never even bothered with fantasy stories—no Lord of the Rings, no Harry Potter, none of it. But here I was, sitting in a hotel room, looking at a screen that told me I had mana. I let the word echo in my head, rolling it around like a foreign flavor. Mana. For a second, I almost laughed—a grown man staring at a screen with “Mana” spelled out like it was the most ordinary thing. But it was real, every word on that screen unmistakable, grounding me. I took a slow, deep breath, feeling lighter and heavier at the same time.
Me! I thought, shocked and in awe. Mana!
Sometimes, life is so strange.
For now, I scrolled past the Abilities section. I knew they would take a while to figure out, so I started with something that seemed more logical at first glance and zeroed in on my stats. Some of it made sense, but other parts… I scratched my head, trying to piece it together. Strength and Agility I understood—those I got. I’d always been the strongest and fastest growing up, enough that the other kids kept their distance. Intelligence? That one made sense, too. I’d breezed through school. But the rest? Completely puzzling.
My Constitution was a ten. Sure, it was on the higher side, but it didn’t match how I felt. I was of average height and lean, and not exceptionally robust.
And Vitality? That threw me off completely. Vital? Me? I’d never felt bursting with energy; if anything, I just wanted to be left alone with a good book.
Wisdom didn’t add up either. I excelled in the classroom, but when it came to the real world, it wasn''t that easy. Reading people was a nightmare. Social cues flew over my head half the time, and adapting to change wasn’t my strong suit. So, how the hell did that translate to “wisdom”?
And Perception—well, that just confused me further. I could see and hear just fine. Did this system measure depth perception? Eagle-eyed vision? I squinted at it, in an attempt to get a better explanation. Trying to tap the screen didn''t help. My finger passed through it. And the annoying system showed no interest in clearing things up.
I set aside my confusion and kept reading the book, hoping it would clarify everything. But, as the story unfolded, it became a challenge to read. The protagonist had to fight stronger and stronger monsters, a prospect that filled me with dread. Fighting monsters? That was the last thing I wanted!
I frowned, with my fingers drumming nervously on the screen. This “Gate Traveler” thing—if I did something with it—sounded like exploring worlds, meeting people, and visiting new places. Not slogging through battles with terrifying creatures. Just reading about it made me shudder, and the idea of fighting monsters had me second-guessing even the slightest consideration of this whole… journey.
Can I handle something like this?
I dropped the book and went looking for a different one. Another long and frustrating search on Google resulted in a new series. This one appealed to me more: the MCs teleported to a world with ten different planets, where they unlocked stats, levels, and skills by doing things, not just fighting monsters. That felt correct, true. Somehow, again, I KNEW this was how things would work for me, too. It was a strange certainty, another one of those flashes of knowledge I hadn’t precisely learned but just… had. If that wasn’t tied to the Gate Traveler class, I didn’t know what was.
One section described looking ‘inside’ to examine the mana system. Ridiculous? Maybe. But worth a shot. I focused on different parts of my body, half-expecting to see something, feeling ridiculous. Nothing.
Not giving up, I closed my eyes again, this time zeroing in on the places that burned when I crossed the gate. Initially, there was nothing. But I sometimes had a stubborn streak, and this case definitely justified it. It took a while, but then—there it was, hazy but unmistakable, a mental image forming like an afterimage behind my eyelids. It wasn’t seeing in the usual sense of the word—more like mental sight mixed with physical sensations. But I did see color and shape.
My mana system looked different from the book’s description. Instead of the lines and gates it described, I saw three golden orbs, each swirling with streaks of energy—one in my head, another behind my diaphragm, and the last at my navel, glowing like miniature suns suspended in the dark. From the orb in my head, I had lines going to my eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. From the diaphragm orb, lives went down my arms into each finger. From the navel orb, lines went down my legs to each toe. The orbs pulsed with warmth, and each pulse sent the energy spreading through me. My fingers yearned to reach out, knowing it was impossible. How could you touch something so… internal? How can you touch your soul?
I couldn’t help but stare at the vision inside my mind. Something softened, and a distant ache finally quieted. The sight of those orbs calmed something raw in me, smoothed edges I hadn’t known were jagged. Grief, that ever-present weight, eased its grip a little, leaving me oddly at peace. This energy—this new, humming presence—seemed crafted to fill an ancient emptiness I’d always carried. Connecting to the energy was surreal. Peace came over me. A peace I never felt before. As the shock faded, I felt lighter, as though this energy had softened all my rough edges, be it grief, anger, or hopelessness.
At that point, I stopped reading. The books were fun, but I’d found what I needed. Anything more would just be fiction, while I was dealing with reality here.