The next thing Cade knew a roaring wind was screaming into his ears. He opened his eyes to realize, with a burst of adrenaline, that he was falling. Fast. Hurtling down through open air, clouds whipping past him in blurred smears of white.

  His limbs flailed uselessly for a second before he forced himself still. Below him—stretched impossibly far beneath—was a vast landscape carved into four perfectly divided quadrants. The geometry was surreal, unnatural. The entire region was a massive circle, easily hundreds of kilometers across, if not more, but at this speed and height, Cade couldn't even begin to comprehend the true scale. It was like looking down on a colossal, color-coded game board painted across the land.

  Each quadrant was a biome, perfectly distinct and unnaturally segmented, the boundaries too clean to be natural.

  To Cade’s right was a land of blackened stone and scorched earth. Ridges of twisted obsidian snaked across the terrain. In the center rose a jagged mountain, its summit split by a massive volcanic crater. Lava churned and spewed upwards in glowing arcs, lighting the dark landscape with bursts of orange-red. Smoke poured upward in slow plumes and then dispersed into nothingness.

  To Cade’s left, was winter. A white world of snow-covered plains and pine-covered ridges. At the center of that biome, a towering mountain rose like a silent sentinel, draped in snow and cloaked in evergreens. From this distance, the trees looked like scattered green brushstrokes against the white canvas of the slope.

  Directly across from him was a desert—a vast stretch of golden yellow that shimmered under a sun too bright to be real. Dunes rippled outward from the center, where a single lush green oasis broke the monotony. At its heart was a deep-blue oval of water, bordered by dense vegetation like a living eye in the sea of sand.

  And directly beneath him the land was green—vibrant, lush, alive. Forests stretched endlessly, a carpet of treetops spotted with open water. But as Cade’s descent brought him closer, he saw it wasn’t a standard forest—it was wetlands. Swamps. Patches of brackish brown and winding rivers gleamed between dense greenery. And in the center of the quadrant below, nestled like a target, was a large circular lake with a single forested island in the middle.

  Cade’s awe at the unnatural beauty below was short-lived.

  A shimmering point of light flared to life in the exact center where all four quadrants met. From that center, a blue dome began to emerge, translucent at first—like a bubble surfacing on water—then growing steadily more opaque as it expanded. The dome surged outward, rapidly claiming space. Within seconds, it grew until it spanned a quarter of the entire tutorial zone’s radius.

  Then came the walls.

  Lines of shimmering blue light stretched outward from the edge of the dome, tracing precisely along the boundaries between the biomes. They reached the outer perimeter of the zone and surged skyward. As they climbed, they too became solid, opaque walls—sectioning the circle into sealed quarters. The biomes, once clearly visible, were now locked behind their respective barriers.

  Cade was now clearly descending toward the wetlands quadrant.

  The treetops drew closer with every passing second. Panic began to creep in. He looked around to find he wasn’t alone.

  Other dots were falling from the sky—dozens of them, no hundreds, maybe more. Some were right above him, some much higher, descending slowly on more controlled trajectories. But he was clearly the lowest, hurtling toward the ground with no sign of slowing.

  His stomach flipped.

  “Okay,” he muttered, “this is bad. This is really bad.”

  The trees were getting too close too fast.

  “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna crash. They dropped me here and forgot to give me a parachute—”

  His thoughts spiraled as the wetlands rushed up to meet him. He could see individual leaves now. The surface of the large lake shimmered in the distance. The central island loomed beyond—but Cade was nowhere near it. He was heading toward the outer forest edge, somewhere near a clearing.

  He clenched his eyes shut, arms flailed out trying to catch against air. “Shitshitshit—!”

  Then, suddenly, his descent slowed.

  It was as if invisible hands grabbed him and began gently resisting the fall. His body jolted—not painfully—but with just enough force to remind him he was not in control. The ground was still rushing up, but now the speed was manageable, like descending in an invisible elevator.

  Cade opened his eyes.

  “Thank you,” he gasped. “Thank you, System, for not letting me die right away.”

  He floated the last hundred meters, descending toward a mossy clearing surrounded by tall, broad-leafed trees. The earth below looked wet, but not submerged—more spongy and damp than flooded. The clearing itself looked deliberate. Flat. Open.

  A landing pad.

  He touched down with a soft squelch of moist earth—and promptly fell flat on his face.

  “God—ugh—dammit,” he mumbled into the wet dirt.

  He pushed himself up, mud streaking the knees of his jeans. His palms were slick with moisture. His wrinkled T-shirt was already stained. Everything around him smelled like waterlogged leaves and damp moss.

  Still, he was alive.

  Cade grinned. “Alright. Step one: don’t die. Nailed it.”

  Then he looked up and the smile faded.

  Above him, more figures were descending. One in particular was dropping fast and angled toward the same clearing.

  Cade stepped back, instincts buzzing. The figure landed roughly five meters away with a loud crunch of moss and damp leaves.

  Amanda, the administrative assistant, landed with a stiff stumble, her boots squelching into the soft earth. She bent her knees to brace herself, leaning heavily on the wooden staff she clutched in both hands. For a moment, she looked like she might fall but her balance held.

  Cade straightened as she looked up.

  Her eyes locked onto his, and her brow furrowed in confusion.

  She didn’t say anything at first, just stared at him like she was trying to remember his name. Cade realized, with mild self-consciousness, that he was wearing the same jeans and wrinkled T-shirt, just now dirt-smudged from his graceless landing. Meanwhile, Amanda wore a light brown robe cinched at the waist with a knotted cord. The hem brushed against her boots, already damp with water from her landing. The staff she held was polished and slightly gnarled, clearly not a random branch she picked up on the way down.

  Cade raised a hand and gave a tentative wave. “Hey, Amanda.”

  She blinked and tilted her head. “Cade? What are you—?”

  She didn’t finish. Instead, her eyes darted up again. Cade turned just in time to hear the sound of a voice cutting through the clearing—cheerful, loud, and unmistakably familiar.

  “Woooo! This is amazing!”

  Cade looked up.

  Nadean was coming in fast—but not uncontrolled. She twisted midair, pulling her legs beneath her and landing in a crouch that kicked up a puff of mossy mist. She rose with a grin, her eyes immediately scanning the area.

  Like Amanda, Nadean looked like she’d been plucked from a fantasy novel. Her dark leather armor was close-fitted and clearly well-made, layered for flexibility. Twin blades—daggers or short swords—hung from each hip in sleek scabbards. Her boots were mud-splashed but clearly designed for movement. She looked cool, confident, and dangerous.

  Her eyes landed on Amanda first. “Oh my god, thank the System it’s you.”

  Then she turned to Cade and brightened even more. “Cade! You made it too! I was worried I’d get stuck with some random idiots I couldn’t trust.”

  She practically skipped over, stopped beside him, and gave him a once-over. “Wait. Where’s your gear?”

  Before he could respond, another soft thud hit the earth behind them. They turned.

  Professor Sanders landed with the grace of someone who'd done this before—though Cade doubted that was possible. His outfit looked oddly grounded: brown leather pants, a linen shirt, and—strangely—a white lab coat, pristine and out-of-place, complete with colored pens stuffed into the chest pocket. He held a black leather-bound notebook in one hand and touched down as if descending the final step of a staircase.

  He blinked at the three of them. For the first time in Cade’s life, Professor Sanders looked genuinely surprised.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  His gaze lingered on Amanda and Nadean for a heartbeat before flicking to Cade—and freezing.

  Cade straightened unconsciously. There was no anger in the professor’s eyes, no judgment—just a glimmer of bafflement.

  Professor Sanders walked forward, stopping beside Amanda and Nadean. “Well,” he said, tone dry, “this is unexpected.”

  He gave Amanda a slight nod. “Ms. Blythe. Good to see you.”

  Amanda responded with a polite, “Professor.”

  “Nadean,” Professor Sanders added with a bit more warmth. “Glad you’re both in one piece, despite the strange circumstances with which we find ourselves.”

  He turned to Cade. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Good to see you too, Cade.”

  Cade nodded, uncertain.

  Then Professor Sanders made eye contact—and mouthed silently: We’ll talk later.

  Cade’s stomach sank. Great. That couldn't mean anything good.

  Before the awkwardness could deepen, a sharp voice cut through the canopy above, carried by laughter.

  “This is insane! I love this!”

  They all looked up to see the final figure descending—Sasesh. He came down slower than the others, riding the air with an odd drifting motion. In one hand he held a sleek, dark brown length of polished wood, just under a foot long, with faint ripples of stone-gray grain spiraling along its surface—it was a wand.

  His robe was dark brown and embroidered with faint silver sigils that shimmered as he moved. His boots looked like something you’d find at a high-end store.

  He landed with a controlled step, chuckling to himself.

  “This… this is wild.”

  Then he spotted the others.

  His smile widened when he saw Amanda. “Admin squad, huh? Not bad.”

  He looked to Professor Sanders. “Sir, I had no idea we’d be Isekai’d together.”

  His gaze settled on Cade last—and something in his expression shifted. A flicker of surprise, then smugness as he took in Cade’s appearance, and finally amusement.

  Neither of them said anything.

  For a moment, the group just stood there, the five of them forming an awkward circle in the damp clearing. The air buzzed faintly—static? Some sort of energy?—Cade couldn’t tell.

  Then, as if on cue, a faint chime echoed through the clearing.

  A glowing blue pane appeared in front of each of them.

  WELCOME, NEWLY INTEGRATED BEINGS, TO THE 111th UNIVERSE’S TUTORIAL

  This Tutorial is a Survival-Type. The primary objective is simple: survive for 90 Earth-standard days.

  During the first 30 days, you will be confined to your assigned quadrant. The containment walls will dissolve after that period, allowing interquadrant exploration.

  Objective: Survive.

  Optional Goal: Increase your Tutorial Score by performing actions aligned with your Class or Profession.

  Rewards: Your final Tutorial Score will determine your rewards upon completion.

  Note: Death within the Tutorial is permanent.

  The light faded, leaving the group in silence. The only sound was the distant croak of something amphibious in the wetlands beyond the trees.

  “Permanent death,” Nadean repeated under her breath. “So like, we can actually die here.”

  Professor Sanders adjusted his lab coat, eyes darting back and forth as though analyzing the message for hidden variables. “It appears so. Which means we’ll need to strategize. I suggest we establish information first. It’s clear we’re sharing a starting zone—cooperation is the rational first step.”

  Amanda nodded. “He’s right. We need to know what everyone can do.”

  Nadean grinned, resting a hand on one of her twin blades. “Oh, we’re doing the party intro thing? Fine by me.”

  Professor Sanders stepped forward, assuming his familiar lecture tone. “Very well. Since I brought it up, I’ll begin.”

  He straightened his coat, then clasped his notebook behind his back. “The System offered me several options upon integration. I selected Profession: [Scientist]. The description provided was ‘Analytical experimenter; identifies, tests, and exploits phenomena for practical advantage.’ It seemed fitting.”

  “Of course it did,” Sasesh murmured, smirking. “You’re the only guy I know who would get isekai’d and still end up a scientist.”

  Cade resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

  Professor Sanders ignored him. “It seems my abilities revolve around observation and analysis. I can gather data on materials and perhaps unlock recipes or formulae. Useful, if not flashy.”

  Nadean stepped forward next, twirling one of her daggers before sheathing it again with practiced flair. “Alright, my turn. I got a Class: [Rogue]. The System called it an ‘Adaptive infiltrator; observes, evades, and exploits openings through stealth and precision.’”

  Her grin widened. “Basically, I sneak around and stab things when necessary. I wasn’t sure what kind of Tutorial I’d get, so I went with the ‘don’t die first’ choice.”

  Amanda gave her a small smile. “You always were quick on your feet.”

  “Damn right.” Nadean winked.

  Amanda took a step forward next. Her robe swished around her ankles as she rested both hands on her staff. “I chose Class: [Healer]. The System said its a ‘Frontline medic; restores health, stabilizes wounds, and mitigates harm with efficient care.’”

  Cade blinked. “Frontline? That sounds dangerous.”

  She smiled faintly. “I think it means I can heal faster if I’m near whoever’s hurt. I wasn’t given many options—mostly administrative-type professions—but Healer stood out.”

  Professor Sanders nodded approvingly. “An invaluable role. Having restorative capability will make survival far more probable.”

  Sasesh cleared his throat loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, alright, enough common talk.” He raised his wand slightly, smirking. “I, ladies and gentlemen, was offered Class: [Tectonic Graviturge].”

  Cade frowned. “A what?”

  Sasesh gestured with his wand, making faint motes of brown light spiral in the air. “Terrakinetic caster who shapes stone while modulating local pull forces to pin foes or lighten allies. The System’s words, not mine.”

  Nadean whistled. “So earth magic and gravity control?”

  “Exactly.” Sasesh’s grin widened. “Rare-tier class, by the way. Guess the System knows talent when it sees it.”

  Amanda gave him a polite but unimpressed look. “And what can you actually do with it right now?”

  “Well,” Sasesh said, looking at his wand. “Not much yet. But it’s rare. So, you know it has to have potential.”

  Professor Sanders sighed. “Let’s focus. A scientist, a rogue, a healer, and a… tectonic graviturge. That gives us analysis, stealth, support, and elemental control.” He turned toward Cade. “And you, Cade? What Class or Profession did you select?”

  All eyes turned toward him.

  Cade felt heat rise to his face. His throat tightened. He hadn’t expected to have to say it aloud so soon.

  He rubbed his neck, staring at the damp soil. “Uh… I didn’t get one.”

  A pause.

  Professor Sanders frowned slightly. “You didn’t choose one?”

  “No,” Cade said, quietly. “I didn’t get the option.”

  Nadean tilted her head. “What do you mean you didn’t get the option? Everyone gets one.”

  Cade forced a dry laugh. “Apparently not everyone.”

  Amanda blinked. “You mean…?”

  He sighed, looking up. “I don’t have a System Core. The automatic formation failed during initialization.”

  Silence. Even the insects seemed to stop.

  Sasesh snorted—but one sharp glare from Amanda shut him up before it could turn into a laugh.

  “That’s…” Nadean began carefully. “That’s not good.”

  “No kidding,” Cade muttered. “The System said I shouldn’t even be here. I was supposed to go to a ‘safe’ Tutorial for people without cores, but I got transferred here instead for some reason. No class. No profession. Nothing.”

  Professor Sanders’ brow furrowed. “That doesn’t align with the parameters the System described.”

  “Yeah, well,” Cade said, giving a helpless shrug that clearly meant your guess is as good as mine.

  Amanda opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Pity flickered in her expression. Cade hated that more than Sasesh’s smug silence.

  He straightened, forcing a smile. “It’s fine. Really. I’ll figure something out.”

  Sasesh rolled his eyes but said nothing.

  A heavy silence followed Cade’s words. The only sound was the distant rustle of wind through the trees and the quiet gurgle of water nearby.

  Cade stared at the ground, hands shoved into his jeans pockets, waiting for someone to say something—anything. He didn’t know what he expected. Sympathy? Pity? More awkward silence?

  Instead, Nadean broke into a grin.

  “Well,” she said brightly, “guess that just means I’ll have to keep you alive with my super-fast daggers.”

  Cade blinked, startled, as she mimed a dramatic flourish of her blades.

  He gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks but let’s hope we don’t get into any fights anytime soon.”

  “Oh, I fully plan to avoid them,” she said cheerfully. “But just in case.”

  Amanda stepped forward, tapping her staff once on the damp ground. “She’s right. We’ll keep you covered. Besides, even without a class, you’re still a human being with two legs and two hands. I’m sure you’ll find some way to help out.”

  Professor Sanders nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful. “We’ll adjust. Planning around each other’s strengths is the key to long-term survival. Cade’s lack of a core complicates matters, but it isn’t insurmountable.”

  That was more support than Cade expected.

  He cleared his throat and looked around at the group. “Okay, well, I might not have a class or profession, but I’ve read a lot of books. I played more video games than I probably should admit.”

  Amanda arched a brow. “You’re saying fantasy novels make you an expert survivalist now?”

  Cade shrugged. “That and my dad used to drag me out camping in the Everglades every summer. Taught me the basics. We’re in a wetlands biome—it’ll get cold and damp fast when the sun goes down. First night’s the most dangerous in survival situations. We need cover. Preferably somewhere we can see anything coming.”

  Professor Sanders nodded. “Agreed. For now we should assume the artificial sun overhead gives us an approximation of Earth’s day cycle. We likely have several hours before dark.”

  Cade glanced upward. The sun-like orb hung high and motionless, casting an even light. “Yeah, hard to say how long exactly, but better to move and scout out the area early.”

  “We should also look for other groups,” Amanda said. “There are others in this quadrant, safety in numbers might be our best bet.”

  Sasesh, who had remained oddly quiet, finally spoke—eyes still locked on a System screen the rest couldn’t see. “As long as they don’t slow us down. Or try to take what we find.”

  Nadean rolled her eyes. “Always a ray of sunshine.”

  Cade sighed and took the first step toward the trees. “Let’s get moving.”