Minutes later, they strolled down the sidewalk, a great distance from the bar. The summer night air gave a cool breeze as Daniel followed at a slow pace, staring at the distant skyscrapers filling the skyline.

He had to nail down what he knew. This place wasn’t much different from the world he remembered, aside from the Fighters schtick that made it completely different. Was home the real world? Was this real life, or was this just fantasy? Daniel focused hard, but a hazy darkness filled the gap between falling asleep on the bus and waking up in the park. What were his parents doing?

Could he even get back?

Daniel didn’t even realize he’d started meandering on the sidewalk until Mr. Garcia bumped into him from behind.

“Slow down a bit, Carmen,” Mr. Garcia called out. “I think our friend Daniel’s having second thoughts.”

“Sorry!” Daniel jogged to catch up. “Not second thoughts, but…a lot of thoughts, yeah.”

“What were you thinking about?” Carmen asked.

“Uh…I don’t know how to explain it. Do you two read a lot?”

“Mainly Fantasy and Sci-fi,” Carmen said.

“I stick to cookbooks and historical stories, but I look at some Thrillers every now and then, too,” Mr. Garcia answered.

“I couldn’t get into those — they’re too realistic,” Carmen said, smirking at her father. “Why?”

“Would either of you believe me if I said I came from another world?”

Carmen gave him a look. Standing a few inches shorter, she glanced at him over the top of her pink glasses. “Are you being serious?”

Daniel chuckled. “Rarely. But this time, yeah.”

“Normally I wouldn’t believe you at all. But…” Mr. Garcia crossed his arms. “Your learner’s said you’re from Chicago, and I’ve never heard of that town. Is it small?”

Daniel shook his head. “Unless you consider the third largest city in the US small. I hardly understand it myself, but I literally don’t think I’m from this world. All this Fighter stuff doesn’t exist in my world. This is all…”

Daniel’s jaw fell as the Fighting Center came into view. Spotlights shot into the sky from a short, reflective building with a giant red fist logo above sliding double doors. Cars streamed in and out of the parking lot, just like the constant traffic in and out of the doors. Some normal pedestrians, some colorful, crazy figures.

“It’s all new?” Carmen grinned. “Come on. It looks even nicer inside.”

Carmen led him and Mr. Garcia to the door, and Daniel’s head stayed on a swivel as they entered. A seven-foot-tall man walked in beside them, with what looked to be a gun attached to his right arm, wrapped in cloth. Inside, a chandelier of crystalline fighters duking it out hung above the main lobby, lighting the room in a spectrum of color. The lobby split into two hallways. The abnormal, bizarre figures took the hallway on the right — those must’ve been the Fighters, Daniel guessed.

They followed the normal people to the hallway on the left, eventually arriving in a large room with bleachers on one side and small arenas closed off with glass. Fighters brawled on the insides, some recognizable from on the way in. They took their seats at the top row of the bleachers, sitting with their backs against the wall.

Carmen opened a bag of chips from her purse. “Want some?”

Daniel gasped. “How can I say no to barbeque chips?” he said, accepting a handful. “These are my favorite, you know.”

“Mine too.”

“Mija, look over there.”

Daniel scanned the glassy arenas to follow Mr. Garcia’s finger, focusing on a man clad in black with a large katana, facing the seven-foot gunman he passed at the entrance.

The swordsman lunged at the gunman with a slash. The gunman raised his human arm, and a field of blue blocked the slash before the minigun on his other elbow opened fire. The glass muffled the gunshots, but Daniel still jumped. With his cape stained red, the black swordsman fell. A moment later, a blue referee appeared above the bloodied black swordsman, touching his neck. The swordsman rose to his feet as if nothing happened, and shook the gunman’s human hand.

But, as they were distracted, Mr. Garcia reached into Carmen’s bag of chips, plucking one for himself. “See? I told you. Fighters get hurt pretty bad.”

“No fair! This isn’t a lesson, papa. You pointed at him just to take some of my food.”

Mr. Garcia laughed. “I do still mean it. Stealing the chip was just a bonus.”

“Wait, if these guys are fighting hand to hand, aren’t guns cheating?” Daniel asked. “And did he get back up?”

“The system changes how guns work during fights to keep things fair,” Carmen said. “So, unless it’s someone’s ability, they just do damage instead of killing someone. And yeah, the system’s ref also heals the losing fighter after every round.”

“But they still feel the pain. I don’t know why anyone would put themselves through that just for a rank,” Mr. Garcia said, gesturing for another chip.

“Wait, what do you mean by the system?”

Carmen swiped on her wrist, opening a set of white icons no different than the ones Daniel had opened at the bar. “The thing behind these. You’re telling me none of this is familiar to you?”

“I told you,” Daniel said, leaning in to whisper. “I’m literally not from here. Back home, the closest thing was boxing matches and MMA fights on TV, or school fights in the hallway.”

“Oh, there are still boxers and MMA fighters, but they count in the same sport. It’s still a little hard to believe you just suddenly woke up in another world, though.”

“Are you sure you don’t have amnesia, Daniel?” Mr. Garcia asked.

“Yesterday I had a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, and today, I took a nap on the bus to summer school before I woke up in that park.” He swiped his phone open, and showed them a picture of his sandwich to prove it.

Mr. Garcia nodded. “That is a good looking sandwich.”

“Okay, but what day was two weeks ago?”

“Tuesday, May 21st.”

“Shoot.” Carmen ate some more chips, letting both Mr. Garcia and Daniel take the last handfuls. “How did you even get here?”

“That’s my question! I don’t know.”

“What about your world you apparently came from?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have family there?” Mr. Garcia chimed in. “How are they gonna feel about you going missing all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know.”

Carmen balled up the remains of her chip bag. “What about your friends? Won’t they—”

“Guys, please!” Daniel raised his voice, his throat tightening. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t…I don’t know, alright? I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know why I’m here, and I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I’m really freaked out and you’re not making it any better.”

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

Farther down the bleachers, cheers exploded from a large group of spectators.

Daniel ran a hand along his forehead, hoping it would stop the dread in his stomach. “It’s so late. I don’t even know where I’m going to sleep, or how I’m gonna call my parents. I…” He sighed.

Mr. Garcia put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I believe you, Daniel. I apologize for our earlier skepticism, but…someone close to me was once in a similar situation.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Mija, did I ever tell you about my grandfather? How our family made it to this country?”

Carmen shook her head.

“My grandfather — your great grandfather — came from Guerrero, one of the most dangerous states in Mexico. When I was your age, my father told me the stories he told him about the hardship he faced escaping to the US, for a better home for his pregnant wife.” Mr. Garcia sat back in his seat, staring into the ceiling lights. “They had no money, no home, no family. But, they met just the right kind stranger, who gave them a place to stay and helped them get a job. If it wasn’t for that stranger, I wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be here, mija.

“And he always told me that I may one day have to do the same, if the Lord wills me to pay it forward.” He glanced over at Daniel, giving him a warm smile. “I’ll convince her mother when we return, but we have a guest bedroom you can stay in tonight, Daniel.”

Daniel gasped. “Seriously?”

Mr. Garcia nodded. “That can at least solve one of your problems. How else can we help?”

“I don’t even…” Daniel smiled in relief. “Help me understand. What’s going on here, Carmen? How are they doing all those cool moves? Why are they fighting?”

“Here is a Fighting Center, where Fighters come to train, matchmake in ranked matches, and where normal people come to become Fighters. We’re watching ranked matches right now, by the way. If the winner’s ranked lower than the loser, they switch rankings, and all Fighters fight to raise their rank. They’re doing all these cool moves by executing different combinations of movements and attacks, which the system responds to by letting them utilize the powers they gained by…”

As Carmen went on and on, Daniel lost track of where his answers were and where more questions sprung up. He put up a hand to stop her. “Please,” he chuckled. “I’m starting to think you know a little bit about Fighters.”

“See what I have to deal with?” Mr. Garcia laughed. “I may as well get a degree in understanding Fighting with everything I hear from her! Just give him the short version, mija.”

“Sorry, sorry. Fighters fight each other to raise their rank high enough to enter the Ultimate Versus.”

Her words repeated in his mind, soaking into the wrinkles of his brain as he stared out at the different arenas. How they were fighting was clear enough. It was just like the games back home; their physical movements were like special move commands. “Ultimate Versus?” he asked.

Carmen nodded. “It’s the biggest day of the year. The top fifty duke it out in a massive tournament, and the winner’s reward is a fight with the number one ranked Fighter in the world. Whoever wins that becomes the new number one and has their ultimate wish granted.”

“Any wish?”

“Anything! But, the number one hasn’t been beaten in a hundred years, apparently.”

As he nodded slowly, a bad idea formed in his mind. Daniel grinned. “So, any wish.”

“That’s what I just said.”

“Even a wish to send someone to another world?”

Carmen pried her eyes away from watching the fights. “Are you insane?”

“It couldn’t be that hard, could it?”

“Yes! Yes, it could!” Carmen said, laughing. “People train and fight their entire lives to get into the Ultimate Versus to make a wish. There are millions of Fighters in the world. You really think you could beat all of them?”

“No! It’s like you said, the winner switches rank with the loser. Just gotta fight the right people.” Daniel leaned back against the wall. “And it’s my only way back. Unless you have a dimensional portal in your back pocket, I don’t have another option.”

Carmen sighed. “I guess.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for someone your age, Daniel,” Mr. Garcia said. “Someone your age should be focused on school, not on trying to chase dreams of becoming a Fighter.”

A dark shadow crossed over Carmen’s face. Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Well, look.” Mr. Garcia gestured to the glass arenas, each hosting a brawl of their own. “Fighters get shot, stabbed, beaten, bruised — killed! Yes, they get healed if they lose, but they can’t even go shopping without getting challenged. It’s a chaotic way to live with no guarantee of a career. You could spend that time training on getting an actual job instead, or getting a degree.”

Beside Mr. Garcia, Carmen clenched a fist on her knee. Daniel caught her intense exhale.

“But, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m not your father,” he said, glancing over at Carmen. “We need to head back to the bar, anyway. It’s my night to do the dishes. Her mother will kill me if I skip out on them again.”

Once they returned to the bar, Mr. Garcia left Daniel in the main bar room to meet with Mrs. Garcia in the kitchen, convincing her to let Daniel stay. They set the guest bedroom up for him to sleep in that night, or even tomorrow, if necessary. But, the only condition was that he had to sleep locked in the room from ten to eight in the morning.

It was a decent, simple room, with a bed and a nightstand across the room from the window. Twenty minutes before ten, Carmen knocked on his door, and leaned on the threshold. “I’ve never seen it this clean before,” she said, looking around at the room. “So, what’s your plan?”

Daniel shrugged. “Like you said. The only way I could think of getting home is with that wish.”

“With that wish after you become the number one Fighter in the world?”

“It sounds crazy when you say it like that,” Daniel chuckled. “But I literally don’t have any other option.”

Carmen shook her head, smiling. “Well, you’ll have to run off and do that on your own. My parents won’t let me become a Fighter.”

“Why not? Do you have to be a certain age to become one or something?”

“No. The youngest Fighter in the world is some rich eight-year-old that speaks five languages. No, they don’t want me to become one because they think they’re protecting me. God forbid their smart, frail, innocent little angel would rather fight people on the street than study all day.”

“Is that why, when Mr. Garcia was talking earlier, you were tense?”

“You won’t believe how many times he’s given me that same spiel. He even told me that again when I asked about if we could go watch the South City Beginner’s tournament coming up! He’s not gonna make me drop it, though.” She sighed. “Not in a million years, no matter what he thinks.”

Daniel nodded slowly. “I don’t think you’re frail.”

“Really?”

“Not at all. Uh, I mean—” Daniel stammered, drawing off of his knowledge of the Carmen he knew back home. “I don’t know you that well yet, but you seem like you have a tougher edge to you that most people don’t see, you know?”

Carmen snickered, adjusting her glasses. “If only my parents would see me the same way.”

“You sneak out to go to that Fighting Center anyway, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well…” Daniel shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “If I’m gonna become a Fighter tomorrow, I’ll need a guide,” he said, winking. “What’s the harm in sneaking out tomorrow?”

Carmen’s dreary expression lit up bright enough to rival the stars. The same mischievous grin spread across her face, too, and she nodded. “Then let’s go to bed on time. We don’t want them getting suspicious before our plan even starts."

After saying her goodbyes, Carmen disappeared to her room, and Mr. Garcia returned soon after to lock Daniel’s door. Daniel undressed to only his sweatpants, an impromptu sleeping outfit, and sat on his bed with his back against the wall. The window across the room only gave him a view of the bricks of the building across the alley. Sure, the bed was comfortable, but it felt more like sleeping in a hotel on a trip rather than being his new home.

But, that’s what it was. This wasn’t a trip. However he got here, getting back home wasn’t a car ride away. He had to become a Fighter. He had to become number one, with Carmen’s help.

How were his parents doing without him? He glanced at his watch. It was early in the morning back home and late here when he arrived. If there was a time difference, then it was probably early in the morning there. They’d be getting ready for work and helping him get ready for school, waiting for him to leave before leaving the house themselves.

Unless he was missing, that is. Then they wouldn’t have slept at all; they’d be up all night worried and trying to find him, unaware that he probably wouldn’t come back for a while.

At least, that’s how they would be if he had good parents. They hardly noticed him when he was there. Would they even care if he wasn’t?

Daniel opened his photos app, scrolling up to the last time he and his friend group hung out, watching once again as Ryan tossed a spider he found underneath his couch at Andrew. Blasting from the phone speakers, Andrew’s shrill scream filled the room, and so did the ensuing storm of laughter.

He continued down the rabbit hole, from one group picture to the next fight video, from one screenshot of a group chat to another video of his hilarious antics in class. He had scrolled all the way to videos from Sophomore year before the weight of the silence between each video became unbearable.

As he scrolled to another moment in time, the distant passing cars and voices from downstairs dominated the silence, reminding him of his true reality. Though a smile of denial kept itself plastered across his face, tears rolled down Daniel’s cheeks. If only he knew the good old days were the good old days. His thumbs flew across the screen. He didn’t even look at the videos anymore; why would he?

They’re all gone. Everyone.

And the slim chance of winning this “Ultimate Versus” was his only way back, his only shot at making more memories once again. Daniel raised his headphones over his ears, shaking away the dark thoughts. Music was all he had left. No communication, no connection, but he still had his saved playlist — his last remnant of home.

All he had to do was become number one. He laid down, and let the familiar tunes guide him to sleep.