As the blinding light fades, I finally see my surroundings more clearly: a spacious, stone-walled chamber lit by flickering torches. Beneath me, a large summoning circle pulses with a faint glow.

Scanning the room, I realize I’m not alone. Around twenty robed figures in black hooded cloaks stand in a wide circle around me, each gripping a wooden staff and chanting in a language I don’t recognize. They must be the magicians who summoned me here.

I notice three others have arrived as well.

“What? Where am I?”

The voice belongs to a young girl with a high black ponytail, wearing a typical Japanese high school sailor uniform. I immediately recognize the badge on her chest—she’s from Sakura Senior High School, located just a few streets away from where I used to live.

The other two newcomers are boys. One has rebellious, spiky red hair and wears a plain white T-shirt, while the other has messy black hair, tanned skin, and a pizza delivery uniform. Judging by their appearance, they all seem about the same age as the girl.

“What the heck!?” the red-haired boy gasps. “You’ve got to be kidding me… Is this real?”

“Holy shit! I’m still alive!” blurts the pizza boy, trembling as he pats himself down. His face has gone ghostly pale.

All three of them are clearly terrified—a perfectly understandable reaction, since crossing between worlds is anything but pleasant.

I, however, feel the exact opposite. My heart is pounding, but it’s not from fear; it’s from sheer exhilaration.

Because, after so many years, I’ve finally made it here.

“Anna…”

Her name has always been so precious to me.

—————————————-

Thought about sister’s disappearance and heartbreak for 11 seconds

Twenty years ago, in 2065, Tokyo.

Akihabara was then the world’s largest shopping hub for otakus. That morning, I—a twenty-year-old Canadian—and my twelve-year-old sister, Anna, visited as part of our summer vacation. We had a blast exploring endless attractions. From the charm of maid cafés to the thrill of arcade games, we poured our hearts into having fun, buying souvenirs, and trying new foods. Without a doubt, it was one of the happiest days of my life.

But on our way home, everything changed.

The once-bustling streets fell into an eerie silence, disturbed only by a sudden, violent gust of wind that tore through the air like a raging tempest. I looked up, my breath catching as the sky shifted into ominous shades of gray.

“Huh? It’s… cold?” I mumbled, my words lost in the frigid air that suddenly enveloped us. It was midsummer, yet it felt like a Canadian winter. My breath turned to frosty mist, and snowflakes began drifting down from the sky.

Before I could process what was happening—

“Jack! Help!!!” Anna’s voice cut through the desolate streets, sending a chill down my spine.

My heart lurched. I spun around, only to witness something beyond belief: Beneath Anna’s feet, a circle of glowing runes and symbols emerged, its brilliance nearly blinding me.

“Anna! ANNAAA!” I dropped our bags and charged forward to save her—

But an invisible barrier sprang up between us.

I lunged toward her, every fiber of my being screaming for me to push through.

“Anna!”

I slammed my fists against the barrier.

“NOOO!”

I kicked it with all the strength I could muster.

“ANNAAAA!”

Yet that damned barrier held firm, like an iron wall.

“DAMN IT!”

I roared in futile rage, tears of desperation burning in my eyes. No matter how hard I struck or how loud I screamed, I couldn’t break through.

It felt as though reality itself was crushing me.

My heart shattered, piece by piece.

In the end, all I could do was watch. I watched Anna’s terrified, confused eyes lock onto mine, her mouth forming silent screams. The light around her intensified, wrapping her in tendrils of golden fire until she began to fade—growing more transparent with each passing second.

And then, in one final, blinding flash of light—

She was gone.

Anna and that damned circle disappeared without a trace.

——————————————-

As the ritual comes to an end, the heavy wooden doors at the far side of the chamber swing open with a low creak, allowing a large procession of people to file in. At their head is an elderly king with flowing silver hair, dressed in a regal crimson robe lavishly embroidered with gold thread. A gleaming crown of the same precious metal rests upon his brow, catching the flicker of the torchlight. Beside him walks a woman of captivating beauty and grace, far younger than he—her silver gown sparkles with crystals and precious gems, and a matching tiara glitters atop her head.

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Is she a queen or a princess?

I can’t really tell.

Behind them trails a diverse assembly of individuals, each adorned in an array of medieval-like garments. Their attire resembles the sort found in role-playing games or fantasy epics: nobles in velvet cloaks, warriors in simple yet sturdy armor, knights clad in polished plate, and robed scholars clutching weighty tomes. Their boots and robes scuff against the chamber’s stone floor, yet despite their numbers—more than a hundred in all—nobody speaks. It’s as though the air itself demands silence.

The king, spotting us at the center of the now-fading summoning circle, approaches.

I notice the sharp intensity in his gaze, like that of a hunting eagle, even though a faint, courteous smile lingers on his lips.

“Welcome to Valeria, noble heroes,” he begins, his voice resonating through the chamber. “You have been summoned to our world at a most perilous hour to aid us in our struggle against the evil that threatens to engulf everything. I am King Alaric Froste, the sovereign ruler of this Holy Kingdom.”

His words are unfamiliar—neither Japanese, English, nor French—yet I comprehend them perfectly, as if they were my native tongue.

“Ermm… is… is this a mistake?” the high school girl beside me finally musters the courage to speak. She still seems rattled. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’re ‘noble heroes’ at all… Eh? Wait—what language am I even speaking? Why does it feel like it’s my mother tongue?”

I’m experiencing the same thing as well. It’s as if, in an instant, we’ve been granted complete fluency in this foreign language, letting us hear it, understand it, and speak it with ease—like a fish swimming or a bird taking flight.

It’s fascinating, but unnerving all the same.

“Eh, I think you’ve got the wrong people,” the pizza delivery guy chimes in, gripping the strap of his uniform cap nervously. “We’re not heroes or anything.”

“Yeah, and even if we were,” the red-haired boy cuts in, crossing his arms defiantly, “why should we help you? We didn’t ask to come here. This is kidnapping!”

I remain silent for the moment, silently agreeing with him. Regardless of their titles—king, queen, or grand magicians—they’ve still abducted us without our consent, ripping us away from our own world.

King Alaric takes a long breath, as though he expected our doubts.

“I understand your confusion and your fear. Please believe that bringing you here against your will was never our desire. Yet our kingdom, our world, stands on the brink of catastrophe—an evil force looms that could destroy everything. There was no error. You are the Chosen Heroes. Only you possess the power to save us from the Demon God.”

“Eh? Chosen… heroes?” the high school girl whispers.

“Demon… God?” echoes the red-haired boy almost simultaneously.

For a moment, none of us respond. The kids seem lost in their own thoughts, trying to deal with the confusion and fear that come from being thrown into a whole new world under such strange circumstances.

A faint smell of incense and burnt herbs lingers in the air, reminding us of the magic that brought us here in the first place.

Suddenly—

“Wait!” the pizza delivery guy exclaims, snapping his fingers. “Guys, is this some light novel situation? Like isekai stories in anime?”

“Ah, right!” the schoolgirl says, brightening noticeably. “I’ve read lots of those. They’re all the rage nowadays—people from Earth getting summoned or reincarnated into a new world to become heroes!!!”

She’s not wrong. Isekai is a massive genre in the anime and manga industry, with countless new stories published every month. The word literally means “another world,” referring to plots where someone is transported by some means or other into a land of fantasy. Over the years, I’ve seen a great many books with similar premises.

However, reality is never that simple.

Comparing our current predicament to a mere light novel or game might trivialize how serious this truly is. Those stories are, in the end, works of fiction—filled with convenient plot twists, magical “plot armor,” and happy endings.

On the other hand, this is our real life, with real consequences. Here, there’s no “save point” or “retry.” Fighting monstrous enemies and witnessing the brutal horrors of war can break a person, especially teenagers who have never faced violence or killing before. If we want to survive, we’ll need more than sudden powers. We’ll need grit, courage, and the hardened will of experienced soldiers.

It seems the girl is the first to realize just how daunting this might be.

“Ermmm… but… can we really do that? Save the world? I mean… I don’t know how to fight at all,” she admits.

“Ah… yeah, you’re right,” the pizza boy agrees. “I can’t even kill a chicken, let alone monsters…”

The red-haired boy also sighs. “This sounds embarrassing, but I’m actually terrified of seeing blood. I don’t know if I can do this at all…”

At this, their earlier spark of excitement dies away.

“Your Majesty,” the red-haired boy says, turning to the king, “don’t you have anyone in your own world to fight these demons? We’re just teenagers. We’ve never even held a sword. Can we really defeat the Demon God?”

And he’s absolutely right.

Aside from me, the others are basically children. Compared to the knights flanking the king, they look like fragile twigs. It makes no sense to send them against a Demon King.

“Please, there’s no need for concern; we will provide all the required training and support,” the king insists. “And you may not be aware, but your presence here is no coincidence. Being chosen means that you all have hidden talents and powers. After all, you are the legendary heroes! You may not look strong right now, but that will definitely change in just a few years. You all have the potential to become the strongest in the world!”

“Wait!” the pizza delivery guy breaks in, his voice suddenly so excited. “By hidden powers, do you mean something like cheat skills and abilities? Or perhaps there’s a hidden system or something?”

In most Isekai stories, the protagonist often has a “cheat ability.” It could be something very, very absurd like getting stronger by walking, devouring other people’s skills, or even the ability to kill with a single thought. So, depending on the type of cheat skills they could acquire, this entire situation would change drastically.

But the king looks confused for a moment. “Sorry, but I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with your terminology.”

“Ah, I mean… are you suggesting we possess abilities that make us extremely strong, abilities exclusive to us compared to ordinary individuals?”

The king nods. “Yes, something like that. What you called ‘cheat skills’ we know as ‘blood talents.’ They represent the hidden potential in your body. Each of you has a unique talent, allowing your power to grow ten times—or even a hundred times—faster than most. If you’d like, we can awaken those talents for you right now.”

“Yes, please!” the pizza delivery guy responds instantly.

“But what if we don’t want to do any of that?” I interject. “What if we just want to go home? Is there a way to return?”

“Absolutely,” the King answers without hesitation. “We fully understand the enormity of what we’re asking—battling demons and even gods. Rest assured, we will provide you with every possible resource, privilege, and support. Still, if you decide that’s not enough, we can reverse the summoning spell at any time and send you back. But please consider our need. Your talents are vital to our struggle.”

The king then proceeds to detail the array of privileges and benefits that the kingdom intends to bestow upon the heroes. He promises titles, power, wealth, status—every conceivable luxury and advantage, everything a person could ever dream of. It doesn’t take long for the other boy and the teenage girl to be swayed by these offerings, and they readily agree to assume their roles as heroes.

As for me, yes, of course, I am going to stay too. I need to find my sister, after all. But to reverse the summoning spells to send us back home?

That is just complete bullshit.