Some believe that God created the earth in seven days. Others believe that the Big Bang happened and now everybody and everything is space dust collected and some of us have a conscience. A few believe that we’re an alien experiment or living in a simulation. Do you want to know what I believe? It doesn’t fucking matter. Well, that might be a little harsh; let me rephrase. It doesn’t matter anymore. This is my diary you’ve discovered, though I thought I hid it pretty well, so congrats on finding it. Sophie if you’re reading this, I’m going to kill you. If you’re not Sophie, don’t worry, she’s my sister. Sibling love and all that. Anyways, expect hardships, love, loss, decisions that I didn’t want to make but had no other choice, forks in the road. I am about to tell you, reader, in very great detail about my life these past six hundred years. 

November 5, 2025 was the day Earth changed. It was the day that, for many, God died. It was the day when aliens ceased to be the most mysterious thing in the universe. Though the simulation guys were on the right track, even they were a bit off. I was at work one boring meeting after another. Wasting the day chatting with coworkers, having an extra long lunch, and pretending to type on the computer to appease my corporate overlords. Now I want to be very clear about this so you understand the type of person I was. An extremely average thirty-two year old dude who had a chess board on my coffee table and enjoyed a bit of Formula 1 on the weekends. I’ve never had a hero complex, I was never the burn-it-all-down kind of person either. I just wanted to survive. Like most every other American at the time, I struggled to pay my rent and was in debt for the next few lifetimes. But you don’t care about my struggles, well not those ones anyways. You’re here because you picked up a random leather-bound book that was empty until words started being etched on the pages. 

I was in the breakroom with some coworkers looking busy and grabbing some coffee while waiting for that final buzzer so I could walk out the door and head home. Don’t lie, you do the same thing. As we were chatting, these bright shimmering blue marble-sized balls appeared out of nowhere. They hovered in front of each of us about eye level and just sat there. A few of us moved our heads to see around them, confused looks on our faces. But they followed us. 

“What the hell are these things?” someone asked behind me. I turned around and saw it was Braden, one of my work friends. You know, those people you hang out with at work to pass the time, but never hang out with outside of work because the only thing you have in common is how much you hate working. That was Braden. He tried to push the marble away from him but it wouldn’t budge. I laughed. Braden wasn’t the strongest man in the world by any means, but he worked out five days a week and loved to brag about his muscles - the stereotypical gym bro. He saw me laugh, “Why are you laughing man? What, you think you can move it? It’s solid. It’s not going anywhere.”

To be fair to him, others were also trying to move the marble and were failing. One guy even broke a sweat trying to move it. It just stayed right in front of his face. “Nah,” I said, a smile still on my face. “I just figured with those massive arms, and how much you tell me you bench, you could move a tiny marble away from your face. I’m starting to think maybe it’s the juice that’s got you looking like that.” I made a syringe-like motion with my hand. 

“Fuck you,” Braden said, throwing a middle finger in my direction.

I chucked and focused on my own blue marble. It was smooth. I remember it shimmered, but looking at the inside, it was cloudy with dark purples and greens swirling around. I gingerly put my finger on it, it felt warm to the touch. Not hot, but reminded me of those hand warmers you put in your gloves when you’re outside in the wintertime. 

A lady walked into the breakroom, she was from the main office in New York. Ann maybe? Caroline? Look, six hundred years is a long time to try and remember names. “Do you guys know what’s going on?” Her voice was high-pitched, but not annoying. It honestly suited her. She was nice and professional. She was in the office for a managerial audit. And unless we were managers, we had nothing to worry about. Those were her first words to us in the meeting that morning. It’s funny what the brain remembers. Those details come in clear, her name; couldn’t tell you if my life depended on it. And my life has depended on a lot of wacky things since then.

“Nope,” someone else answered. 

Linda, our boss, walk in, “Alright guys, whoever’s doing this, great joke, but we need it to stop now. This is a professional working environment, and you’re making us look extremely unprofessional right now.” Linda was a great boss. She started out like one of us, down in the trenches, pretending to work and all that. As she moved up, she never forgot where she came from. She changed a little bit of course, but nothing too extreme. You know those people who go from the lowly lazy worker to being a boss and then change completely and you have to remind them sometimes, they used to sneak into places at work to take a nap? That wasn’t Linda. We actually respected her. As long as we got our work done, she didn’t care what happened. We couldn’t afford to lose her.

“It wasn’t us Linda,” I said, taking my focus away from the marble. “They just appeared out of nowhere.”

“Hey, the news is saying they’re all over the place!” someone to my right said showing us her phone. 

A man appeared on the screen, “We’re getting reports from cities and governments all over the world right now that these balls have appeared in front of people. So far, there have been no reports of injury from the marbles themselves, though they have caused accidents from drivers. The FAA is also reporting that pilots are seeing these balls and are being diverted to airports. All other flights have been grounded and other modes of transportation here in the U.S. have been halted. The President has asked that all citizens remain where they are and not to worry as they will figure out what is happening. Stay tuned as we bring you more breaking news about these balls as information comes in”.

“Okay,” Linda said, “How about everyone go back to their desks, relax and we will see what happens in the next few minutes here.”

Some people began moving out of the break room until Braden spoke up, “Wait, wait,” He pointed to the clock, “Do we have to stay here past work hours?” We had about fifteen minutes left until the end of the day.

“I’m not going to say you have to stay here, alright.” Linda looked at us. “But it would be safer than getting in your car and driving with a marble in between your eyes. Suffer at work a few minutes past your work time, or possibly die in a car accident. Your choice.” She shrugged.

“Well, when you put it that way,” I said with a little smirk. I started walking out o the break room but as I did all the marbles began to move away from us. They stopped about five feet away and hovered. We looked at each other, even more confused than before. “Maybe they’re going away,” I said. “They had their fun, or whatever, and now they’re leaving.” Just as I finished, the marbles shot at us like bullets. Mine hit me right in the forehead and disappeared inside. My head screamed in pain. I could vaguely hear yells and shouts from the others in the room. I squeezed my head so tight with my hands hoping that it would pop and the pain would be over. And then the pain stopped. I slowly opened my eyes and moved my hands from my head. For a moment I thought I had actually exploded my head as i started to look around. I was kneeling in a white, not room. The white extended in all directions, seemingly going on forever.

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“Heaven?” I asked to no one in particular. I was alone in this nowhere space. “Braden? Linda” Anyone?” I raised my voice a bit. No answer.

I stood up, not remembering when I had gone to my knees. I walked in one direction for a few minutes hoping to find something or someone other than just white. Finding nothing, I stopped and sighed, “Well, I died. That has to be it. I popped my head and now I’m dead. Couldn’t even make it thirty-five.”

“Hello,” a voice came from out of nowhere. It sounded like a smartphone AI voice. Androgynous, but sounding slightly more masculine. Definitely not human.

“Hello,” I responded turning around in circles. “Who’s there?”

“Hello,” the voice came again. “My name is Homer. I am your crafted assistant for the foreseeable future”.

“Homer?” I questioned.

“Correct. And you are Kieran Taggard, thirty-two years of age from Tacoma, Washington. Currently living in San Diego, California working as an archaeological technician and geographical information systems technician. My name was chosen after an intense study of your likes, dislikes, passions, and history. Homer seemed the appropriate choice. However, I can change it now if you would like. Might I suggest Ovid, Cleopatra, or Gilgamesh?” 

The voice went silent for a long moment. “Uhhh, no?” I said, more of a question than an answer.

“Wonderful,” Homer replied. “Now allow me to welcome you to The Regularity. You will gain a longer introduction after you return to your previous location on Earth. Right now, you will be given three classes to choose from, your race has already been chosen as human. Your choices in class, were again derived from your interests and dislikes as well as an in-depth study of your personality, passions, and history. Should you require assistance in choosing the appropriate class, please do not hesitate to ask.”

The voice, Homer, stopped talking and in front of me appeared three symbols. “What are you talking about? What is going on? Homer, I need more of an explanation for all of this,” I said, with a bit more panic in my voice than I’d care to admit. 

“Of course Kieran. This is The Regularity, a system created eons ago to unlock a person’s true potential. This is all the information I have at the present time. Please choose a class.

I sighed and shook my head. Now I wasn’t a stranger to LitRPGs and systems with magic and warriors and heroes. I’ve played my fair share of MMOs and the like. But those are all fiction. And more importantly, they don’t happen on Earth! In those stories, people get transported to another world and are reawakened with powers and abilities. Systems don’t come to Earth. Most of the time anyways. 

I turned my attention to the three symbols hovering in front of me. The first one, a circle with four dots, one in each of the cardinal directions. I focused on it, and the symbol glowed red an image of me in light brown leather armor with a gun in my hand appeared. 

Homer’s voice came, “The Ranger. A ranged magic class. Your weapons do not shoot bullets; however, they are etched with various runes that allow the user to fire magical spells. As a Ranger, you will rely on your dexterity to keep you agile and moving when fighting enemies. Your wisdom will define how much mana you and your weapons can use. Because you are a ranged weapon user, your strength and constitution will be severely lacking until you equip gear or level up and gain status points to improve these stats. Strength: 6, Dexterity: 18, Constitution: 6, Intelligence: 11, Wisdom: 18, Charisma: 5. Would you like to choose this class or keep researching?”

I was silent for a long time. This was exactly like playing a video game and choosing an avatar to play as. Creating a character. Only this time it was real life. I was choosing who I was going to be. It was overwhelming. I had to physically stop myself from hyperventilating and having a panic attack. I put my hands on my head and willed myself to breath deeply and slowly. I shook my head and said, “I’d like to look at the other classes.”

“Of course,” was all Homer said.

I focused on the second symbol, and upside down triangle with and and a single vertical line in the center. My image once again appeared, this time in a robe with runes sewn into it. A dark brown wooden staff sat in my hand, gnarled and notched that branched out slightly at the top, as if something could sit in the opening.

Once again, Home spoke, “The Mage, a versatile class that comes with a variety in professions. From healing to battle magic, the Mage will gain specialization as you level up during your journey. Your Wisdom and Intelligence stats will be sharply higher at the expense of your strength and dexterity. Your constitution and charisma will be average. Strength: 7, Dexterity: 3, Constitution: 5, Intelligence: 17, Wisdom: 19, Charisma: 9. Would you like to choose this class or keep researching?”

Realizing more and more that this was going to become my actual life, I started to take this seriously. I sat for a moment and thought. I still needed to see the last class, but if I had to choose now, it would be the Mage. I had an idea of what the last class would be but, again shook my head and told Homer I needed to keep looking.

The image of the Mage disappeared and I focused on the last symbol, It was two stars, one inside of the other, with an x in center of the smaller one. The image once again showed up. This time I was standing in a hooded cloak dark green on the outside and midnight black on the inside. A dagger in one hand and a sword in the other. The sword had etchings down the blade while the the hilt of the dagger had a large glowing rune.

“The Rogue,” Homer’s voice came. “The Rogue focuses on stealth and tactics to complete missions and defeat enemies. Rogues are typically loners, choosing to go at it by themselves and only join with others when absolutely necessary. What the Rogue gives up in strength, constitution and wisdom, you will make up for in dexterity and intelligence. Charisma is average. Strength: 3, Dexterity: 18, Constitution: 7, Intelligence: 18, Wisdom: 6, Charisma: 10. Would you like to choose this as your class or keep researching?”

I put my hands over my face and blew out audibly. I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hands and started tapping my foot fast. “Okay, okay,” I said to no one in particular. “This is real. I have to choose. Homer, are you sure I’m not dead?”

“Yes, Kieran, I am sure you are not dead,” Homer replied. “This void space is here to allow you the time you need to choose. It was determined that for the people of Earth, this space would be representative of a calming environment with no distractions.”

“Who’s making these decisions?” I asked. “You’re not making them right? So who decided that you needed to come to earth? Or, who set the parameters for the classes?”

“You are correct, I am not making the decisions,” Homer said. “However, I cannot provide the answers you seek at the present time. All I can say is that there was detailed research done on each individual of Earth prior to choosing three classes that were appropriate for them.”

“How many classes are there?” I questioned.

“There are over thirty classes of which to choose from,” Homer replied.

I snorted a quick laugh.

“Is something funny Kieran?” Homer asked.

I shook my head and said, “No, not really. It’s just funny, there are over thirty classes and I get the most average classes. The ones that show up in every video game.Nothing special.” I chuckled quietly again. Average life, average choices. 

Homer spoke up, “I see. Well, it is important to remember that though these classes may have been chosen for you, it is entirely up to you as to who you become and what you do with the class you ultimately choose. There are positives and drawbacks to each of these classes. What you may see as average right now, could end up being extremely powerful. As you level up and decide what your status points will go towards, you will notice actual changes to you and your personality. Should you choose to level up your charisma, you will find it much easier to talk to people and persuade them to your side. Should you choose to level up your strength, you will notice physical changes with your muscles and stamina. Should you choose to level up your constitution, you may find yourself living for hundreds or possibly even thousands of years. The decisions will be entirely yours.”

END OF TEST CHAPTER 1