In the mystical realm of Eldoria, where floating islands dotted the skies and enchanted forests whispered ancient secrets, a dark shadow loomed over the land. Eldorians, aware of an impending doom, four hooded seers gathered at a round table to discuss.

“The time is nigh; we must call upon the summoners circle to converge worlds and bring forth our heroes,” Seer 1 said.

“’Tis not the time!” Seer 2 exclaimed, standing up and hitting the table.

“I agree, dark times are coming. We must make haste,” Seer 3 concurred with Seer 1.

Seer 4 kept quiet, siding with no one.

The three argued with one another, their words flying around, pointing at each other, and giving off exaggerated gestures. The fourth seer said no words during the conversation.

In the midst of the conversation, an explosion erupted. The noise could be heard from outside, and the three arguing seers stood up, surprised and halted their discussion.

“What in the goddess’ name is happening out there?!” Seer 1 asked, sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Argue… argue… argue… that’s all you three always do,” suddenly, seer 4 spoke with his fingers tangled together. “You never agreed with one another, yet you call yourselves ‘seers’. Don’t make me laugh.”

Seer 2 slammed his hands on the table in anger. “What did you say!?”

Once again, another explosion could be heard. But this time, there were screams of people, orders from the guards, and growls of monsters. The three arguing seers became nervous.

“It is time,” Seer 4 said as he stood up and removed his hood.

The three seers walked close to each other as they observed the sight of Seer 4. Their sweats dripping and their hands shivering, in fear for what they saw.

“You thought that they were coming? You thought trouble was ‘nigh’?” Seer 4 asked, his voice slowly shifting as he spoke from an old man to a deep demonic tone, one that growls with each word spoken. “Dark times are not ‘nigh’ or ‘coming forth.’ No… we were already here,” the corrupted Seer 4 continued. He slowly walked closer to them, and his body contorted into a demonic form, one with claws and teeth that could rip flesh like it's nothing. The three seers yelled in agony never to be heard of again.

Meanwhile, in the corner of Earth, there lived a man minding his own business. He’s heading to his first day of work, filled with happiness and excitement. Having just been hired, he kissed his mom and dad goodbye before setting out to start his new life, and they waved him off happily. As he walked through the bustling streets in city, his eyes glimmered with excitement and joy. He inspects his suit and keeps fixing his hair. A man must look the part in these kinds of situations. However, unbeknownst to the man an unsuspecting event was about to unfold.

As he walked, a light suddenly glowed beneath his shoes. He stopped to see what it was.

“What is this?” he asked himself out of curiosity as he leaned forward.

Suddenly, in an instant, the light shined brighter, forcing him to cover his eyes. In a panic, he ran with eyes closed and covered, thinking an explosion had just occurred. But as he walked, he bumped into someone, fell back first to the ground, and his eyesight slowly returned. Blinking rapidly, he found his vision clear. Yet, what he saw was not the bustling crowd. No, what he saw was a circle of people covered in all white with stars on their hoods. He was inside some kind of building made out of stones that he had never seen before. He crawled back breathing heavily, surprised by the sudden change of scenery.

“W-who are you people?” He asked, his voice squeaking at the end.

Staring at the circle of people in bewilderment, the man found himself at a loss for words. The individuals in white robes exchanged glances before one stepped forward, their hood casting a shadow over their face.

“We are the World Summon, we converge multiple Earths to summon heroes. You, along with others, are here for the greater good — to save the people of Eldoria and bring forth the destruction and end of the dark empire, Umbrathra.”

The confused man on the ground heard this felt anxious and scared “what the hell is he talking about?” lingered in his mind. Of course, he would act this way. He was just in a happy place, preparing a future with loving Parents, and the next thing he knew, he is in a world surrounded by strange and weird individuals.

“T-Take me home,” the man whispered.

“What was that?” the white-robed figure asked, leaning closely.

“I said... TAKE ME HOME!” The confused man yelled.

In a panic, he bolted upright and sprinted past the People circling him. His hurried footsteps echoed through the cavernous space, the cold stone walls seemingly closing in. Each breath he took hung in the air, a visible mist of confusion. "Is this real?" his mind raced.

He ran towards the door and opened it in a panic and entered. The strangers in this room, draped in more modern clothing, turned their attention toward him. Expressions ranged from curious glances to furrowed brows of concern. Whispers followed his every step, creating a disconcerting symphony of uncertainty. Faces seemed to blur together, and the man struggled to make sense of the situation.

The room, dimly lit with a mishmash of modern and ancient elements, revealed itself as an enigma. Strange symbols adorned the walls, their meaning lost on him.

As he moved through the room, conversations continued, indifferent to his sudden appearance. Some exchanged glances, others maintained a deliberate lack of eye contact. Amidst the hushed speculation, a hint of humor lingered. "Is this another?" one voice chuckled. "He looks scared lol," another remarked, the uneasy laughter trailing off.

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The man tried to analyze the situation, seeking familiarity in this bewildering setting. His eyes darted around, attempting to find a point of reference in the sea of strangers who were, in turn, evaluating him with an unsettling mix of amusement and concern.

Confused and scared, his breathing quickened, each breath forming visible puffs of uncertainty in the chilly air. The world around him seemed to spin, a disorienting dance that he vehemently rejected.

“This can’t be real... It's just a dream, a prank. I'll wake up any moment now and be with my mom... yes,” he desperately reassured himself in a state of denial. Yet, reality proved stubborn, and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

As he lay there, a crowd formed around him, voices murmuring in hushed tones. Faces hovered over him, their expressions a blend of concern and curiosity, creating a surreal tableau of unknown spectators.

Moments later, his eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the ambient light. A comforting hand rested on his head, and he closed his eyes again, a fleeting smile gracing his lips. “I don’t have work today, Mom; it’s Saturday,” he mumbled, the echo of a familiar routine providing a brief respite from the bewildering situation.

“My, my— I'm an old woman, but I'm not that old yet, my dear," the woman commented with a smile.

Hearing this, the man slowly opened his eyes, thinking, “That’s not how my mom sounds like.” After fully opening his eyes, he found himself in a lap pillow on a woman who looked like an angel; her eyes smiled, and she seemed as if the sun were behind her, her hair golden and her eyes a strange shade of grey.

Immediately, the man stood up and ran to a corner. “W-what happened? You're not my mom,” he exclaimed in confusion, his back against a wall. Looking around, he realized he was still inside that building with these strangers.

The beautiful woman cutely laughed, covering her mouth. “Have you calmed down now?” she asked with a sweet, concerning voice.

Suddenly, a loud voice was heard, sounding like it held importance in the direction on the stage in front of everyone. “Listen, all of you!”

The woman stood up, and David approached her, shivering, still gripped by fear and confusion. Sherry noticed this and rubbed his back softly to calm him down.

“What’s your name, boy?” she asked with a soothing tone.

“D-david William… My name is David William,” David stuttered in response.

“Nice to meet you, David. My name is Sherry, Sherry Nolan,” she said as she reached out to shake his hand, and he grabbed it slowly. "Her hands are soft, and her voice is sweet, like my mom," he thought.

“Hear all! Hear all! The king of the kingdom Luminara has arrived and will make an announcement.” The voice echoed.

A man wearing a crown and clothed in a mantle lined with fur stepped forward and walked on top of the stage. The king had come forth to make an important announcement to the people in the room.

“First of all, I would like to give my sincere apology to the people who are here. We have stripped you of your things on your old earth to bring you here, but be not afraid, for we will reward you graciously. Thank you for accepting our letter invitation,” the king said with pride in his voice, accompanied by a sweeping gesture. However, something felt amiss. In the first place, David had never received any letter. He had just arrived. He felt nervous, asking himself in his thoughts, “Am I not supposed to be here?”

"David frantically looked left and right, observing the others in the room; they all held a letter in their hands. He glanced at Sherry’s hands, and to his dismay, she too had one.

Sherry, noticing David's distressed expression, furrowed her brows in concern. “What’s wrong, David? What are you looking for?”

“I-I don’t have a letter,” David replied with a soft voice, his sweat dripping down his forehead.

Sherry inspected David, her eyes widening in realization. “How did you—”

But before she could finish her sentence, knights, clad in armor, briskly moved through the crowd. With authoritative commands and swift gestures, they organized everyone into a line that stretched towards the stage. Each individual clutched their Letter of Invitation, a key to unlocking the mysteries of their potential."

A knight approached the king, bearing a tripod crowned with an ethereal orb. The orb radiated a mesmerizing glow, pulsating with untapped power. As the knight presented it, the king accepted the mystical artifact with a solemn nod. The knight, gaze unwavering, retreated to stand sentinel, leaving an air of anticipation lingering.

In the midst of the gathered crowd, David felt a guiding force as a knight directed him into the line. Fear knotted his throat, rendering him mute. The desire to speak, to reveal his lack of a letter, weighed heavily on his mind. The unfamiliar surroundings heightened his anxiety. Sherry, positioned ahead in the line, offered a supportive smile—a glimmer of reassurance amid the enigmatic proceedings.

Internally, David grappled with the haunting thought: "What will happen to me if they find out?" The ethereal orb's glow cast an eerie light on his uncertain path, and the distant echoes of the king's announcement heightened the tension in the air.

The king's voice reverberated once more, directing attention to the impending revelation. “Everyone, what I have here is a Power Orb. After you show your Letter of Invitation here, it will show us what kind of skills you have and how powerful it is,” he declared. The words hung in the air, creating an atmosphere of eager anticipation among the assembled crowd.

“Kindly go first, dear hero,” he gestured towards the person at the forefront of the line.

As the chosen individual stepped forward, the king instructed him to present his Letter of Invitation close to the Power Orb. Obeying the command, the individual held out the letter. The Power Orb responded, casting luminous patterns that danced through the air, reflecting the essence of the individual's unique abilities. A pillar of light surged from the orb, illuminating the stage in a breathtaking display that captivated the onlookers. Runes appeared but none of them could read them.

A man in a white robe, reminiscent of those who had encircled David earlier, approached the stage with a graceful bow towards the king. His role as the revealer of destinies unfolded.

“I will read to all of you what the runes say,” he proclaimed with a resonance that echoed through the space. The runes, glowing softly, conveyed their ancient message. “Skill: Archer. Power Level: Master.”

The crowd murmured, absorbing the weight of the revelation. The king observed with a measured gaze, acknowledging the displayed potential. The man in the white robe continued, “Having a power level of Master is a highly commendable start, a foundation upon which great power can be built. There are 8 ranks overall. Rejoice for a new Hero is born.” Cheers erupted, and hands clapped in celebration, the joyous sounds echoing throughout the grand hall. However, amid the jubilation, one figure remained untouched by the revelry. David's heart pounded as the words of the man in white settled, the absence of a Letter of Invitation weighing heavily on his mind. Sherry, ahead of him in the line, continued to offer supportive glances, unaware of the internal turmoil gripping David.

The line progressed, and within its confines, a chorus of speculation and self-reflection filled the air.

“What kind of skill will I have?” questioned one individual, their voice reflecting a mix of eagerness and uncertainty. Others joined in, pondering the nature of their future abilities and the potential heights of their power.

Amidst the crowd, a woman's confident laughter reverberated. “HoHoHo, yes! And before long, people will worship me and my beauty,” she proclaimed with an air of arrogance and assurance.

These voices, both hopeful and boastful, echoed in David's ears, causing discomfort to settle in his stomach, beads of sweat to form on his face, and his knees to quiver involuntarily. The line continued its forward march, each step drawing him closer to the enigmatic destiny awaiting him on the stage.

The woman who reveled in her imagined grandeur lingered behind David. Her murmurs, echoed in David’s ear boasting how powerful she might be, showcased a narcissistic trait. Surrounding her, the boys within the line continued to complement her, unwittingly adding wood to her fire of boastfulness.

The line moved. It was Sherry’s turn. With grace, she stepped forward, presenting her invitation to the orb. The orb responded with a brilliant shine, enveloping the entire building in blinding light and beauty. A collective gasp filled the air as the radiance gradually faded, revealing a construct that left the white-robed man utterly astounded. Records had only told of this skill thousands of years ago.

“Skill… S-Saint,” the white-robed man read aloud, his voice tinged with disbelief.

The king's eyes widened in surprise and awe, and he, along with his knights, knelt before Sherry. The title of Saint held immense significance, akin to a national treasure. Sherry, caught off guard, could only react with a surprised expression.

“Oh my…” she uttered, uncertainty flickering in her eyes as she grappled with the true implications of her newfound skill.

The king, showing reverence, commanded his knights, "Lead her to her chambers; she is a national treasure. Service her needs and wants."

Immediately, the knights surrounded Sherry, seeking permission to accompany her. With raised eyebrows, hands on her chest, and a slight tilt of her head back, Sherry turned around, exchanging a smile with David. In response, David reassured her with a nod, expressing confidence that he would be fine. Sherry, in David’s perspective, was a kind woman; having the skill of a Saint was not a surprise to him.

While people acknowledged and celebrated Sherry's remarkable achievement, jealousy brewed behind David. The boastful woman, who had been vocally flaunting her supposed greatness, seethed with envy to the core. David's anxiety heightened as he grappled with the stark contrast between Sherry's success and his own uncertainty.

END OF CHAPTER