Frank knew he was dreaming, he had no control over his body. But every action felt real, every stab, thrust, even the putrid slime running down his face fresh from the orc's mouth felt real. The worst though, was the smell. The burning flesh of the orc captain stumbling closer was like nothing he had ever smelled before. Like a mix between strongly concentrated gym sock and a cadaver messily scraped off the pavement from a fiery oil tanker collision. The sight of the hulking figure shambling forward with armor and flesh fused together, his every step a thundering footfall punctuated by barely hidden agony, could have been pulled from nightmare.

Now that he had a moment to process it, Frank numbly realized he didn't remember a lot of his movement between attacks. One second he was behind the raiders, another second he was beside them and unseen without so much as a sound. Was it just dream nonsense, or was it something more?

Some little thread in the back of his mind began unwinding. A clue started to fall into place, a square in the quilt mural explaining what the hell was going on. It was almost like he couldn't piece it together because he didn't have a frame of reference from his waking life. Orcs, combat, a warzone. All of those made sense, he had seen enough of those things in fantasy and history documentaries. But something was missing with how he moved around, one place to the next with no in between and it bothered him more than the pair of orcs in front of him.

The loyal soldier and his captain were eyeing their human captive like a piece of meat. They wanted to figure out what portions to share, which to leave for the ravens, and how to make each cut as agonizingly slow as possible to draw out the suffering they felt in the hearts beating beneath their tough, apple-green skin. Frank's sword lay silently out of reach on the ground a few feet away where the shield orc had knocked it from his hand.

The captain was the first to speak. His words came slow, dragged on through raspy, labored breaths. Frank wasn't sure how he was still standing, the great big bastard should be dead and grilled like the ugliest cut of pork ever put to roast.

"Nuuuuuuumaaaaamm," he tasted the word, studied the being he was attaching it to. The anger flared in his eyes first, then his massive tusked mouth, before he reared back and screamed out into the sky blotted out by a deep black pool "ORGUMASH NUMAM! OOOORRGEED!" Frank wasn't sure exactly what the words meant, but he could sense the oath made by the orc captain. He would destroy mankind and he called upon his orc clansmen to follow him to battle.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"GRAAOOOORRK!" The reply came, not just from the orc holding tight to Frank's shirt, but from unseen orcs all throughout the area that heard the call, followed by whooping war cries towards the sky and the sound of shields being rhythmically struck by metal.

Frank smiled through the nightmare brewing around him even while his consciousness was as puzzled as ever, his "body" watched the orcs work themselves up, then he pulled out an ace in the hole, his trusty handgun loaded with 10mm full metal jacket rounds. He aimed, fired straight into the skull of the captain, then quickly pressed the barrel to the head of the orc holding him, and fired again before the stunned orc could process what had happened.

Fiery orcish might, meet cold, hard American steel.

Frank recovered his sword right as the air began to tingle his skin, he turned and within a moment he was on top of the closest building. Thunderclaps shook the sky as the first tremors of an earthquake shook the ground. They stopped and the aftershocks came back with just as much fury while green flashes of light scorched beams into the sky. Quick as the lights came, they were gone, and Frank found himself closer to the site where one had burst out. He watched a diamond shape form from the green light then draw more strange shapes inside before it split open to reveal a dark, liquid red tear in reality.

The fight against the orc raiding party had cost him, he was too late. The portals were open now, and the war cries of even more orcs could be heard greeting their brothers spilling out from the portals in massive waves.

"This is what you must aim to prevent. A portal storm of this size means all out war and invasion by enemy forces. When you wake, you must begin your preparations. Work on your spiritual power, gather allies, become strong. If humanity is to survive the Realm War, they must become more than they are now. You must become who you were meant to be, you must fulfill your potential!" The mysterious voice spoke clearly to Frank, from within his head and everywhere at once in the dreamscape, "What you do next, is your decision to make. We can show you the path, we can aid your first steps and mark your progress. All else you do must be done by your hand, forged in the fire of your will, and etched deeply to the record of your heart."

A warmth washed over Frank once again, and the blue screen blinked into existence before him once again.

'Name: Frank Lepari

Archetype: Scout

Status: Awakened

Abilities: [Total Invisibility]

[Teleportation]

[Psychometry]

Further Akashic Record awaiting spiritual breakthrough'