The wind rushed by. The only sound in the whole world was a roar of air racing past my head. My clothes and hair whipped about with abandon as my eyes peeled open.

  I can only squint. The wind in my eyes makes them tear up and sting, as the blurry sight of the world before me gets bigger and bigger.

  I don’t make a sound.

  It’ll all be over. It’ll all be over soon.

  I see the roof of a car, and then—

  I wake with a start. That jarring instant lingering, the sense of the momentum from a dream carrying over into the real world. Well, waking world.

  It’s been the same dream over and over and over again for the best part of a fortnight now. I’m honestly not sure what has triggered it this time. The dream comes up every now and then, but it hasn’t dogged me like this in what feels like forever.

  I check my status display, thinking for a moment how weirdly natural this is for me now. No different than rolling over and popping open my phone to check the news and switch off my alarm, but instead of just the local weather and time, I also have a heads up on my health points, skills and more options than I think I’ll ever get to fully explore. Not that much of that matters.

  It’s only 5am local time. I’m not needed for my role for another four hours or so, but I know I won’t get back to sleep. I let out a deep sigh and throw the blanket off of me, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I sit there like that for about five, maybe even ten minutes. Who knows. Not like I’m in a rush now.

  With another sigh, I finally get up and head to the bathroom. Not that I really need to pee anymore, but eh, it’s a habit, I guess. I stand over the wash basin and look at myself in the mirror.

  When I first arrived, seeing my new self reflected in the glass always gave me a start. The curly red hair was all mine from before, but I didn’t have these pointy knife-like ears, and I don’t think I was this slender, especially in my face. And I know for a fact I had dark circles under my eyes, but those are long gone.

  Now I look at the half-elf in front of me and see past the surface. It’s me. How could it not be me. Same old, same old me.

  I splash some cold water onto my face, letting out a quick gasp as it hits, dry myself off with a towel and then head to the kitchen. The guild hall is quiet this time of the morning, and I’m the only movement in the building. Right now, that’s just how I like it.

  My level still shows at ten, where it’s been now for ages. I don’t know why I still check in my display, it’s not moved since I got to the max level for my role, but I dunno, old habits of a gamer, I guess. Always checking my stats and checking where I’m at.

  The stats of my various skills and abilities far exceed what should be capable at this level, of course, because they will need to be. And those continue to ascend as I exercise them, so it’s not like I’m completely stuck and unchanging. For example, my magic missiles are at around level 48 now, just shy of hitting the next level up. I hope I’ll get someone who needs a lot of practice with projectile spells, otherwise that will be pretty pointless. Still, cool as fuck though.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Weird fantasy world or not, they thankfully still have coffee here. We don’t have an electric kettle, per se, but we do have this weird little plate thing that charges up with the magic battery. It’s like a stone disk that gets hot when you press the sigil on it, and you place a tin carafe of water on it and it gets good and hot. Takes about as long as an electric kettle too. Its magic reserves are self-replenishing, using the ambient magic stream in the atmosphere, which is good because we like a lot of coffee here.

  I drink the first cup of coffee at the kitchen counter, not spending time with it, just making sure that first rush of caffeine floods my body. I lazily scan through system messages that came in overnight, keeping up to date with any world changes, particularly local ones. Then I make another cup and silently stalk back to my room, steam trailing behind me.

  I open the door, stepping inside. I made the place exactly as I like it. Took a little time getting used to the systems for it, but I was given a little extra leeway here and there, so I went all out. The bed is large, and the perfect comfort level for me, a large wardrobe, a writing desk (which is actually covered in a variety of paints and art supplies for my down time), and a large, soft chair in the corner for reading. And then there’s my book collection.

  I move to my bookshelf. I glide my finger across the spines of the books sitting there, the titles changing as I flick through the list of options in my interface. I land on a science fiction book from sometime in the 2020s called The Last Gifts of the Universe by Riley August, and pull the book, the cover changing to match what I selected. I walk over to my bed and settle in, pillows propped up into an impromptu armchair and crack the book open.

  The ‘library’ is honestly the best part of where I’ve been set up, an endless and limitless supply of content that changes based on whatever I’m in the mood for. It started off as a lot of isekai manga and books for a while, but that started to feel like research and it kinda killed the fun of it for me. Not that I wasn’t already well-versed in those from before anyway, but I tend to stick to other kinds of fantasy and science fiction these days. Occasionally horror, but I was never a big horror guy, so that’s a rarity. Luckily, it even seems to update, which is cool, though how time works between here and there is…weird, so I’m never really sure how up to date I am.

  I could have made the room a whole ton bigger, or even magically defied the dimensions of the building, but that felt too extravagant to me. I don’t need much. I just made myself comfortable. I had to at least enjoy some perks, given what’s been done with me.

  Raising the cup of coffee to my lips, this time I let it linger in front of my nose and savour the scent. Bitter and vaguely nutty. I take a sip and focus on the flavour as I swallow, my shoulders sinking in relaxation.

  I love these quiet moments in the morning before everyone else is up. In truth, it’s my favourite part of waking up so ridiculously early all the time. Before, I was never much of a morning person. I’m arguably still not, but ever since I came here I found myself waking up long before my morning alarm. In that dark lonely time before the day begins, I found an oasis of calm to prepare for whatever the world would throw at me again, and to reflect.

  I read the words of the book, but I don’t think they’re really going in. Not that it’s not a good one, I’m just preoccupied already.

  That damn dream.

  Movement in the corner of the room catches my attention, as two greenish yellow lights flash and dart towards me. The dark shape disappears down underneath the bed, before rematerialising on the other side and leaping up onto me.

  Griff lets out a purr as he softly pads around in a circle, curling up and settling down into my lap. He begins purring loud and deep like a cat. But Griff isn’t a cat, not exactly. He’s a grifflet. And yes, I was very imaginative with the name.

  Grifflets are very much like cats, but where as cats have fur, grifflets heads and legs have feathers. The feathers follow along their cat-like ears, making them tuft out and look even longer, but their faces are otherwise exactly as you’d expect a house cat’s face to be. He looks up at me with a half-lidded expression, before settling his head back down onto me to use as a bed.

  Honestly, he’s tremendously cute, and I’m more than happy to allow this company in my oasis of calm before the day begins.

  Because somehow, I just know this is going to be one helluva day.