Wind howled outside the wooden hut, rattling crooked window panes and carrying the scent of salt from a distant sea. Inside, in a small room lit only by morning sun, a boy jolted awake with a violent cough.

His head throbbed like a hammer striking bone. A bandage wrapped around his skull—tight, fresh, and unfamiliar.

He squinted, pulse racing.

Rough wooden walls. A hand-woven rug. An old table with a single candle.

This definitely wasn't an airplane.

"What… the fuck?" he muttered, voice raw.

The last thing he remembered was metal screaming as the plane tore apart mid-air. Cold water swallowing him whole. Sea choking his lungs.

Yet here he was—warm, breathing, alive.

His hands shook as he pushed himself upright on a straw mattress.

Footsteps approached.

The door creaked open, and a tall woman stepped in. Her skin was dark as river stone, her hair braided with shells that clicked softly as she moved. Her eyes—sharp amber—studied him with equal parts suspicion and relief.

"You're finally awake," she said in a low, accented voice. "Good. I feared the sea had stolen your spirit for good."

He stared, confused.

"Where… where am I?"

She stepped closer, a patient sigh leaving her lips.

"You are in South Vaelstopris, in the fishing town of Dunemar. We found you on the beach two nights ago. You were barely breathing." Her gaze flicked to the bandages. "A deep wound on your head. Very deep. It is a miracle you remember anything at all."

South Vaelstopris? Dunemar?

Those names meant nothing.

"How did I survive?" he whispered, more to himself than her.

"We hoped you could answer that," she replied. "But for now, rest. You will need your strength. You have been asleep for past few months."

Her last words hit him like another crash.

"What do you mean… 'months'?"

She was going to answer when suddenly horn sound came from outside, her expression changed to utter fear.

Before she could speak again, a horn blasted somewhere outside—deep, rumbling, urgent. Shouts followed. Running feet. Distant screams.

The woman tensed, grabbing a spear leaning against the wall.

"Stay here," she hissed. "Whatever happens—do NOT go outside."

She sprinted out the door, leaving it half open.

The boy sat frozen for a heartbeat. Then curiosity—and terror—pushed him to the window.

Through the glass he saw the ocean boiling.

Massive shapes moved beneath the waves.

Something was coming ashore.

Something not human.

His breath stilled.

And then, from the water, a colossal shadow rose—

An octopus. A gigantic, monstrous one.

"The fuck—A Kraken?!" Fenric's eyes went so wide he thought they might pop out any second.

He quickly shut the door and leaned against it, panting.

"Okay… okay… I'm dreaming. This is all a dream," he muttered to himself.

"Yeah, a dream. I'm still on the plane. The crash was a dream. No sea monsters. No giant Kraken."

He swallowed hard. "God, why can't I dream about something cool instead? At least give me guns or superpowers…"

He looked around desperately — and finally spotted a hidden container tucked under the bed.

"Oh thank god. Thank you, all those anime I read… hidden compartments, hidden loot."

He pulled it out, opening it with trembling hands.

Inside was a small ornate box, carved with strange runes.

"Okay, let's see what we've got…" Fenric said as he opened it.

Then he froze.

Inside lay a ring.

But not just any ring.

He recognized it — from a book he once read.

"The Ring of the Fairy King…? Oh hell yes."

Without hesitation, he slipped the ring onto his finger — and yelped as a sharp piece pricked him.

"Okay… ow—! That actually hurt!"

Blood seeped onto the ring, and it pulsed with light, sinking slightly into his skin as if bonding to him.

"Alright… now I should get superpowers or—"

He didn't get to finish the sentence.

A rush of dizziness hit him like a tidal wave.

His legs gave out, vision blurring into darkness.

"This dream is getting bizarre… and more bizarre…" he mumbled before fading.

A deep, ancient voice rumbled around him — everywhere and nowhere at once.

"A human child… touched by death, life, space, time… and yet you survived the Void. What are you?"

Fenric turned—

and his heart nearly stopped.

Floating before him was a dragon the size of a planet, scales shimmering like galaxies, eyes burning with stars.

Its gaze pierced straight into his soul.

The enormous dragon lowered its cosmic head, its voice echoing like thunder across a thousand worlds.

"You have stumbled upon my legacy, young one," the dragon rumbled. "I am The Supreme Dragon, last of the Eternal Starborn."

Fenric swallowed, trembling.

"O-Okay… what trial do I have to face? What do I need to do?"

The dragon let out a deep, resonant chuckle.

"A trial? No. You have already passed one. If you had not… you would be nothing but dust. The sea, the crash, the Void—those should have ended you. Yet here you stand."

Fenric's eyes widened.

"Wait… are you saying all that was real?"

"Yes," the Supreme Dragon replied. "In your world's language, you may call this… an Isekai situation."

Fenric froze.

Then slowly—very slowly—he raised a fist into the air.

"FUCK YEAHHHHHH!!!" he shouted, voice echoing across the cosmic void.

The Supreme Dragon stared at him for a long moment, almost concerned.

Fenric coughed, trying to regain some dignity.

"Sorry… it's just… this was like… my dream scenario."

The cosmic beast blinked. "Are you done?"

Fenric nodded quickly.

"Yes, sir. Done. Totally done."

The dragon's starscape body shifted, galaxies swirling beneath its scales.

"Now then… to help you survive freely in this new world," the Supreme Dragon said, "I shall grant you three gifts—each forged from my power."

Fenric leaned forward, excited.

"Three gifts? Like… like a starter pack?"

The dragon ignored that.

First, a burning sigil appeared behind Fenric, shaped like a shimmering blue screen.

"The Player System," the dragon declared.

"A guide to growth — similar to your MMORPGs from Earth. It will show you your strength… and give you ways to improve it."

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