Kaiser stared at the black USB drive in his hand for a long time.
It was real. Tangible. Cold against his skin.
And it hadn't been there before.
His hands trembled as he plugged it into the old laptop, heart pounding like a war drum in his chest. It took him two full days to return to the cave where he'd buried his precious electronics. Through exhaustion and paranoia, he'd pushed forward, driven by something deeper than curiosity.
Hope.
The hope that maybe, finally, his cheat had arrived.
The dig was desperate and clumsy. Dirt flew, fingernails cracked, and sweat blurred his vision. When he uncovered the silver case containing the laptop, spare batteries, and cables—still wrapped in oiled cloth to protect against dampness—he nearly collapsed from relief. The drive clicked into place like a key into a long-lost lock.
The ancient laptop wheezed as it booted. Its fan buzzed unevenly. The cracked screen flickered once—then glowed steady.
His fingers shook as he navigated through the cluttered file system.
No label.
No instructions.
Just a single, unnamed file on the USB drive.
Kaiser clicked on "Properties."The file was 20 MB. Modest. Suspiciously modest.
"Some kind of game file?" he muttered.
The laptop was a bottom-tier relic, barely able to run video files. It had served him for three years, battered and patched with duct tape and blind faith. He remembered how he begged his father for it, and how he only got it when his father upgraded his own work PC. It was Kaiser's first personal device, his first window into coding, gaming, independence.
The nostalgia hit hard.
Fifteen-year-old Kaiser, still full of dreams, trying to learn Python, making crude pixel art in MS Paint, getting bored halfway through tutorials. But still—this laptop had taught him to think, to solve, to survive. If not for it, he wouldn't be here.
He opened the transmigration group chat—a habit he hadn't fully killed.
There was no new message.No sign of anyone else.Just his name.
kaiser(1).Alone.
He typed nothing. Didn't even mention the cheat. He simply closed the panel.
"If you won't come back... I'll do this alone."
Returning his attention to the screen, he took a deep breath and clicked the unnamed file.
A black screen.
Then, three glowing words:
[New Game][Continue][Quit]
He blinked.
"It's a game cheat?"It looked like some retro 2D RPG, pixel-style. He smirked. Of course, it had to be weird.
With nothing to lose, Kaiser clicked [New Game].
Boom.
The screen flashed white—and then he was there.
An island. Water stretching in all directions. A bird's-eye view, like those old simulation games. Beneath his virtual feet, a prompt read:
[Unclaimed Temple]
The system chimed:"Please name your domain."
Kaiser hesitated.
"My cheat is… sandbox? World-building? Faith-based? Do I grow stronger by developing this world?"
He opened the transmigration group panel again.
Still empty.
He closed it instantly this time, without hesitation.
As he contemplated the name, 8-bit music began to play. A soft, nostalgic chime, like wind through digital trees. English text appeared on the screen, flickering in slowly, character by character.
"On this momentous day, the world rejoiced as the esteemed lord once again graced the realm.""Your advent has bestowed renewed vigor upon this desolate earth. Your indomitable might shall forge a brand new civilization."
The scene faded into motion. Pixelated villagers marched in orderly lines, building homes, planting fields, and raising their arms in joy. For the first time in weeks, Kaiser smiled.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard.
"Dao?" he thought, amused. Like a cultivation path?
He scratched that idea.
Instead, he typed:
[Kai]
The moment he pressed enter, a grand temple appeared on the island—ivory white, ornate, and completely out of place in the primitive surroundings. Its brilliance drew the eye like a lighthouse in fog.
Soon, two figures walked toward the temple, tiny pixel-people with expressive animation. As they neared, one knelt, and a dialogue box appeared.
"What an exquisitely crafted temple! Surely, it must have been forged by the divine."
The second lifted their arms to the sky.
"God, god!" they cried.
"Behold! This must be a divine revelation—a realm blessed with propitious fortune! Let us summon forth more souls to establish their dwelling here."
"The land blessed by the divine! The land blessed by the divine!"
Moments later, five more figures joined them.
Seven in total.
They began building—a simple thatched hut beside the temple. They even transplanted berry-like plants, watering them tenderly.
A prompt emerged, blinking softly:
"Congratulations, for you have garnered the allegiance of the inaugural disciples within this realm—an unequivocal testament to their unwavering faith, which shall serve as the conduit for your wondrous miracles. Endeavor to amass an even greater abundance of faith."
Kaiser's heart raced.
He glanced to the top-right corner of the screen.
Two icons:
Population: 7Faith: 7
Each follower contributed a single point of belief.
He tried clicking on the population. Nothing.
Then he clicked on the Faith icon—and something shimmered. A soft fog, almost magical in nature, swirled across the screen.
It formed into a single word:
[Miracle]
Kaiser leaned forward, eyes wide. Every nerve in his body screamed with adrenaline. He had no idea what this file was—a cheat? a simulation? a god-game interface? But he didn't care.
His people worshiped him. Their faith powered him.
This wasn't just a cheat.
This was a civilization.
His civilization.
The old laptop hummed as if proud to be part of his journey again.
And deep in the woods, safe within the cave of corpses and claw marks, Kaiser sat surrounded by darkness and silence, with nothing but a flickering screen before him…
…and the future of a world in his hands.