It’s bright, way too bright.

Immediately, I close my eyes and assess my situation.

My ears are ringing and my head is pounding painfully. What is it this time? Taquila? Rum? Hmm, no this particular hangover is unique.

My tongue detects something metallic. Blood. Hopefully not mine. Then again, I don’t really want someone else’s blood in my mouth, especially first thing in the morning.

I scratch my beard as I groggily sit up with my eyes firmly clasped shut. Probably time to shave soon, my facial hair is getting to be longer than my pinkie.

Silently, I sit waiting for the inevitable alarm. It’s usually a good test to see if I’m at my place or her’s. Her as in whoever caught my eye the night before.

After a bit, I realize it must be her place; this bed is hard as a rock and I don’t feel any sheets. Doesn’t really matter, though. It’s warm enough here.

“So, are ya getting up or what?”

That voice sounded distinctly male. Wow. Must’ve been a wild night.

“... The king can’t wait forever, ya know.”

This guy is full of himself. Just who refers to themselves as “king”? I guess he’s raring to go for round dos. I just hope that there was a woman involved in round uno. If not… well I must’ve been drunker than I’ve ever been. That’s saying a lot.

“Look, man”, I say, “I’m sure you’re expecting something, but I don’t swing that way. Or at least I don’t when I’m sober. Gimme like two minutes and then I’ll leave.”

It’s silent for a bit, I can’t tell if it’s from shock, dejection, or anything else through my closed eyes.

I’m surprised to hear a low chortle from various sources around me. Seems like the “party” was a bit bigger than I thought.

“You..! You’re..!”, the original voice sputters, “I don’t either! Open your damn eyes and look around, jackass!”

I sigh as I comply.

… Woah.

I’m sitting on a huge stone pedestal, carved with thousands of tiny runes and inscriptions that just seem to be gibberish. But… they’re glowing somehow.

Around me sit around three dozen more people, extremely varied in terms of demographics, sex, weight, looks, you name it. Each of us are wearing nothing but what seems to be a flimsy white sheet. Many of them clutch their sheet as they look around, worriedly. Some stand out to me: a fit teenager with blonde hair and an air of assurance around him, a beautiful woman with short blue hair, sky blue eyes, and a piercing in her nose, and a huge scarred dude with gigantic rippling muscles, grey moustache, bald head, and a fierce look about him.

The blue-haired girl notices me looking and clutches the sheet to her ample “personality”. I snort at her feeble attempt, as it’s pulling the sheet off of her plump rump. Noticing this, she begins to blush and shiver indignantly, trying to glare at me. Shaking my head, I look away before she embarrasses herself again.

We seem to be surrounded by a ring of guards around the pedestal. All of their faces are concealed by shining full helmets, and their body language is muted by their stiff stances. They are all adorned by a full set of plate armor, with the occasional patch of chain in areas that need to be flexible. Each of them have a swaying red cape attached to their back, connecting at the pauldrons, and are clutching a torch in their right hands. I note they all have a sheathed sword on their left hip. Either they mean us no harm, or we are literally no threat to them.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

All of us are in some kind of cavern, so impossibly large that the combined light of the runes and torches barely travel a few meters before the darkness devours it. I can’t even see the ceiling.

The guy who I was speaking to abruptly swoops in front of me. He’s annoyed. In contrast to the guard, his face is uncovered. In fact, he isn’t wearing any armor at all. He’s wearing a well-pressed, formal business suit with a shiny blue tie, complete with slicked-back black hair. The guy’s got kind of a feminine face that’s currently contorted into slight disgust.

“You done? Had a good look? Ready to go now?”, he almost growls.

Well that throws a wrench into things. I had the distinct impression that all of us here were summoned to be heroes in another realm, destined to kill the demon lord, blah blah blah. It’s a painfully obvious plot for anyone who’s read any light novels in their lifetime. Yet here stands a man in what can only be described as normal modern dress.

If they have access to Earth’s fashion, why not incorporate modern armor and weaponry to their soldier’s armory? Or summon us in a city? So many questions, and no answers.

“Why are you asking me? There’s plenty of people here, shouldn’t you be addressing them in some kind of rousing speech?”

I’m fishing for answers. What else can I do?

Suit-and-tie’s face darkens. Oh? Some kind of bad memory?

“Yeah, I don’t like it either”, he almost whispers, “But that’s out of my department.”

He looks at me seriously and speaks in a matching tone, “Look, I’ll tell you in a way that you can understand: you all have been summoned here for… let’s call it a game. And you in particular have taken the Viceroy Nalia’s interest. So, for now, you are the political figurehead of this group of Summonees. You can ask me more on the way, but we seriously need to get a move on.”

I nod quickly. There are two possibilities: I’m in a particularly lucid dream, or this is all actually happening. Either way, there’s no real reason to doubt him, it just plain does not make sense to be angry or confused right now.

As for trusting him or the forces behind this… probably never. Nothing against ‘em, but I’m not really a trusting guy. Especially for a group that has both technology and magic. That’s just plain scary.

Without another word, he turns on his heel and begins to fast-walk in a random direction.

The whole group hears him and after a moment’s indecision, they gather their sheets and begin to follow. Not much else to do, huh?

The knights start walking as well. Some even offer some more sheets to help clothe people temporarily.

Me, I don’t even bother covering up. In fact, I tie my sheet into a rudimentary cape as a crude parody of the knights surrounding us.

The group casts strange looks my way. Whether it was because of my awesome cape or the conversation, I don’t know.

So, naked and confused as all hell, I jog to catch up the suit-man.