Will of Vienna

Michael Todes was the absolute definition of an unassuming student. To anyone passing him on the streets, he was just another face in the crowd—a tall, somewhat lean young man with messy dark hair and a habit of looking just past people rather than directly at them. Living in a messy apartment in Vienna’s 20th district, his daily existence revolved around his university studies at the University of Vienna, and playing all sorts of games.

To the outside world, he was quiet, perhaps a bit distant, but he wasn’t a total hermit. He knew exactly how to socialize at university parties, meet with friends and have fun. Despite that he simply preferred being alone, going for a walk night and playing games.

His distant personality was mirrored in his family dynamics. Michael was a middle child and had an older brother, a younger brother, and a younger sister. While Michael and his older brother were living in the capital of Austria, Vienna, to carve out their own independent lives, the rest of the family—his parents and the two younger siblings—still lived roughly eighty kilometers away in a quiet, small town nestled deep within Lower Austria.

This physical distance meant Michael had grown accustomed to managing his daily life entirely on his own. He didn’t rely on constant family check-ins or weekly phone calls. Over the years, he had learned to operate completely independent and entirely self-sufficient in the heart of a major European city.

To the outside and also to his own family he looked like a cold hearted person with no feelings towards anyone. Some even thought that he was not capable of feeling at all. But that was just his way. In fact, he was actually a kindhearted and even an emotional guy. What made him different was that logic and reason always came first. As long as something had a reasonable and logical explanation, his emotions stayed in the background. On the other side, he would get extremely emotional if meaningless and pointless tragedies and evil occurred.

On this particular spring morning, the sun was shining weakly through the massive, arched windows of one of the university’s largest lecture halls. Michael was sitting near the upper middle row. He didn’t know his desk neighbors nor any other student in this lecture.

He played a new RPG until late night and was now dead tired. His mind couldn’t entirely follow the professors lecture about the macroeconomics. The professor, an elderly man, was talking about inflation rates and fiscal policies.

Suddenly, the heavy wooden desk beneath Michael’s forearms vibrated.

It started as a low, structural hum but increased with every passing second. At some point it completely cut through the professor’s speech.

Then came the noise.

A deafening, metallic screech echoed from the concrete corridors outside the heavy lecture hall doors. It sounded like tearing sheet metal mixed with something deeply organic, followed instantly by a terrifying chorus of faint, high-pitched screams. Inside the hall, nearly three hundred students froze instantly. Conversations died in a fraction of a second, replaced by a tense, suffocating silence that quickly morphed into a confused murmuring. Every single eye in the room locked onto the heavy, reinforced double doors at the front and back of the hall.

„Is that some kind of prank outside?“ someone whispered loudly three rows behind Michael.

Before anyone could stand up to look or investigate, the very nature of the air in the lecture hall transformed. The atmosphere turned incredibly thick, almost viscous, shimmering under a sudden, suffocating atmospheric pressure that made it difficult to draw a full breath. The morning light filtering through the windows bled away, replaced by a harsh, unnatural neon hue that cast long, distorted shadows across the rows of seats.

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Then, without a single sound, a translucent, crystalline blue screen manifested directly in front of Michael’s eyes. It didn’t appear in the room; it appeared in his vision, tracking perfectly with his retinas. Simultaneously, a massive wave of startled gasps, sharp inhales, and terrified curses filled the massive room.

**[ External interference detected. ]**

**[ Threat level: Extinction. ]**

**[ DEFENSE SYSTEM INITIALIZING… ]**

The reaction among the university students was instantaneous and chaotic, born of pure, unadulterated bewilderment. Nearly everyone was staring at the glowing blue text in sheer disbelief. Some aggressively rubbed their eyes, convinced they were suffering from a sudden spike in blood pressure; others muttered furious curses, assuming it was a glitch in the matrix, a mass hack, or some strange optical illusion projected by a hidden device.

The professor stood entirely frozen at the podium, his hands shaking as he tried to call out to keep everyone calm, all while nervously batting his hands in the air, trying to swat away his own floating screens.

On the outside, Michael sat still, but inside his mind, he was freaking out.

*Is this actually happening right now?* His thought was that of pure bewilderment. *Is this a dream? A collective hallucination? No. Impossible. The air pressure, the reaction of everyone else… it’s too real. It can’t be a trick.*

His heart hammered, making his pulse throb in his ears. But as he stared intensely at the floating, geometric lines of the text, a strange, forbidden warmth began to bloom beneath his panic. He knew this interface. Not exactly this screen but what it meant. He didn’t just recognize it—he *understood* its functions. He had spent thousands of hours staring at variations of this exact, clean layout late at night in his dark apartment, fueled by cheap energy drinks, instant pizza, and a quiet detachment from the mundane reality of his everyday life.

It was a System. From the reactions of the others he could deduct that it was not just his system but everyone else got it too. *Did it affect only the students here? The people of this district? Maybe Vienna as a whole? Or even the whole world?!* Michael was pondering.

Another prompt blinked into existence, flashing with a faint, rhythmic pulse that seemed to sync with his racing heartbeat.

**[ Inventory unlocked (Capacity restricted by Level and Strength). ]**

**[ To increase initial survival probability, all survivors have been issued a starting weapon: [Iron-Tipped Recruit’s Spear]. ]**

„What the hell is this text?! How is it tracking my eyes? Is anyone else seeing this?!“ the girl sitting to his right asked in confusion. She was squinting heavily, aggressively waving her hand back and forth in front of her face.

Michael completely ignored her. The deeply ingrained gamer instincts, forged through years of digital grinding instantly took the wheel. The initial panic was pushed into a cold, dark corner of his mind.

*An inventory,* Michael thought, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the text. *If this system follows the fundamental logic of the games I’ve played… it shouldn’t require a physical gesture. It should respond entirely to my command.*

He shifted his posture, planting his feet firmly on the floor, and focused his mind entirely on a single, clear command: *Inventory.*

Instantly, a semi-transparent menu expanded beautifully in his vision. It was completely empty, a vast array of locked, greyed-out squares, except for the very first slot in the top-left corner. That single occupied slot contained a grey icon of a weapon.

*Equip,* Michael thought, his mental voice sharp and authoritative. Or rather: *Retrieve.*

There was no magical, blinding particle effect. There was no flashy burst of light, no theatrical swirl of wind, and no sound. One single second his right hand was completely empty, hovering just above his wooden desk, and the very next moment, his fingers closed tightly around the cold, textured ash-wood shaft of a two-meter-long spear.

The heavy iron tip gleamed under the harsh, unnatural neon lights of the ceiling. It was heavy, solid, and terrifyingly real.

The sheer, physical weight of the weapon instantly shattered his remaining fragments of disbelief. It worked. The system was real.

A slow, chilling, and entirely calm smile crept onto Michael’s face.

Around him, his classmates were still whispering frantically, screaming, or staring blankly at the text in front of them and tried to figure out its funtions. Some were looking for someone to explain what was happening.

Michael stood up. The time for panic had passed. It was time to look toward the double doors and find out exactly what kind of threat was waiting outside.

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