A man in his mid twenties was drinking coffee. He looked exhausted and was dressed like an office worker. Dark circles under his eyes and pale skin made this clear. His hair hadn’t been cut in years, adding to the unpleasant impression he gave off.

He often came to this same café near his house. The coffee here was cheap and strong enough to get him through another day. It was the only thing keeping him going until at least the evening.

A waitress approached him. She was already used to his presence.

"You really should cut back on the overtime, or you won’t make it past thirty." He smiled, scratching his head, his expression low and embarrassed.

"I’d like to cut back too, but we’re short-staffed." She gave him a stern look.

"You guys are always short-staffed..." No one needed to tell him how abusive his job was. He experienced it firsthand every day. Leaving a small tip, he stood up and left.

"My horoscope said I’d be lucky today. Maybe I’ll gamble on my way home." He patted his pockets before moving forward, searching for a cigarette. His disappointment came when he realized he had forgotten them, sighing as he continued on.

The streets were empty at this early hour. He had a long walk to the bus stop, which, unlike the streets, would be crowded. His walk was calm and peaceful, unaware of everything happening around him.

A giant the size of a car was crawling like a dog on four legs, grotesque tusks protruding from its mouth. Its eyes were covered by a cloak as it continued sniffing for its next meal.

Stark glanced to the side absentmindedly as the car passed slowly by him.

‘Weird car… I should hurry up, could be thugs!’

He lived on the outskirts of the city, so kidnappings and robberies were common here. They were becoming more frequent lately.

When he reached the bus stop, several people of various ages were already gathered there. All their faces were familiar to him. Especially one.

“Good morning, Uncle Stark.” A group of teenagers always greeted him. He returned the greeting as they gathered around him.

"Did you see the last episode of that anime?" Stark always found it amusing to chat with them. His tastes were often considered childish by others.

"Yeah, it was epic how the protagonist defeated the curse king. I didn’t expect him to pull it off." The boys continued bombarding him with questions about his thoughts, as well as their theories, which were often more mature than the show itself.

“I just hope you guys aren’t skipping class again. Your grades last term were awful.” The boys shrunk in front of him, their intentions obvious.

“We’re doing fine… I think. We’re just having trouble with math and physics like everyone else.” One of them pulled out a notebook from his backpack, showing a complex math problem.

“See, it’s impossible to solve this! That teacher’s crazy!” The kids were always like that; everything came down to blaming the teacher. He reached out, took the notebook and a pen, and after some scribbling, the solution became clear with impressive ease.

“Study the process, and it all gets easier. You tend to focus too much on the result. Trust the process.” Their eyes lit up as they looked at their fallen uncle. It wasn’t the first time they’d asked for his help, and no matter the subject, he always had the answer.

The bus arrived, and the crowd pushed and squeezed into it. Stark found himself next to a woman with long black hair, many eyes peeking through the strands, which seemed made of nylon. She was unbothered, waiting for her stop. After a few stops, he got off.

‘That woman had a strange aura, Jesus, I hope she’s alright?’

He was finally in the city center, which, unlike where he came from, had many people bustling around. Some of these people walked like puppets, their lifeless eyes and emotionless faces controlled by strings extending above the buildings, where several hands and fingers manipulated them. Whenever they interacted with someone, they suddenly came to life.

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"As always, full of scammers and vendors. This place never changes, does it…" Stark glanced into the alleys in the central area, where dangerous-looking people came and went, some trembling with agitation. Figures with greenish skin and worms crawling over their bodies lured them in.

Stark looked up at the sky, where dark clouds were approaching with a strong wind, large winged beings flying close by, their claws extending, capturing people around him and flying away.

“Damn it, I forgot my umbrella.” He opened his wallet, counting his coins to see if he could afford one. His hands clasped together in a silent prayer.

“Please, God, don’t let it rain today!” His eyes fell on a crowd gathering nearby, political and religious leaders discussing the country’s future amidst the recent wars. The current president had started a war no one wanted, the economy was collapsing, and people were starving.

“And after all that, that girl still thinks I should work less. My boss may be a jerk, but I should probably be grateful for having a job… Should I?” Today, he was just a failed adult in everyone’s eyes, his once-promising future thrown into the trash and, without mercy, they had set fire to the bin.

“I could’ve been more…” he still remembered. The same college friends still messaged him, asking for help with their jobs in big tech companies, jobs acquired through nepotism.

Weighed down by life’s disappointments, he remembered his beautiful lovers who thought he would be rich and successful, the same ones who later left him for rich heirs.

“What an unfair world…” A small coin lay on the ground. His luck would indeed be great today. He bent down, letting go of his negativity just in time to avoid the strike that would have killed him. A monster with three red eyes and large scythe-like arms narrowly missed, hitting someone behind him instead.

He continued on; he still needed to catch the subway. The place smelled like iron, but strange smells like that were common downtown.

At the station, he was tempted to grab one of the snacks they sold and another coffee, but the price snapped him back to reality.

On the way, he ran into some acquaintances, a girl who seemed radiant, a few years younger, wearing a business skirt, and a young man in a suit next to her.

“You both look the same as always, spent the night gaming together, didn’t you?” She looked at them judgmentally, and they both chuckled.

“What can I do? Without my duo, I’ll lose my rank!” Stark always tried to justify bad habits. He was already poor; what was the harm in having one or two vices?

“Honestly, we lost last night because of those weird picks again. Who in the world thinks Rengar would be a good support?” Stark looked at him comically, pounding his chest proudly.

“It’s clearly the new meta, my friend. Once I master it, you’ll see. I’ll carry us both to Challenger!”

“If we don’t drop to Iron first… Anyway, how’s that new feature going?” The young girl leaned in to listen closely, her interest renewed.

“That impossible thing? I doubt I’ll manage anything with that deadline.” He shrugged as she encouraged him.

"It’s not the first time they’ve asked you for the impossible. By now, you should be used to it."

"Remember, my name’s Stark, not Jesus, alright? My quota of miracles ran out a while ago." The train arrived, and they continued discussing the topic, both friends suggesting possible solutions to the problems. To them, Stark was admirable, despite his decline.

He was frowning by then. It was clear to him that the world hated him. Everyone else had easier lives. The girl who motivated him was a newly graduated junior and gained more than him, and her naivety was always internally criticized.

The guy, a close friend, was just another lazy worker who managed to keep up appearances of hard work and effort. Nothing important or complicated ever came his way.

‘I wish I had the chance to start over in a world where effort and talent are rewarded. One where weak, lazy heirs don’t stand a chance. One where I could show what I’m capable of!’

Time seemed to slow as he spotted an angel. Its soft, angelic wings fluttered gently, dressed in simple white robes on the other side of the tracks. In the path of the train, another with two pairs of wings flapping powerfully stood ready to collide with the railway machinery.

Time resumed just as the train crashed into it, the accident completely destroying the train, plunging it into flames and explosions. That day, the news would report how everyone on that train tragically died due to brake failure. But for those present…

“Time to wake up, idiots! We need to get out of this illusionary world, now!” Stark stood up, next to him his mutilated body rested. Angels flew everywhere.

“The joke’s over! We’re taking you to the true world!” In front of the four-winged, two-meter-tall angel, a bluish portal opened, its mystical pull beckoning them all.

Stark ran without thinking too much, the illusions fading before his eyes as he saw the city he’d always lived in, full of monstrous creatures, killing people like ants.

On the other side, a vast green plain stretched out.

“Maybe today really is my lucky day.” An angel placed its hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t celebrate just yet; this place is far worse than anything you’ve ever seen. And to make it worse, we’re in a death zone.” Stark looked at him.

"If I work hard, will I be rewarded? Does my talent mean anything here?" The angel observed the eager young man, his hands trembling with excitement.

"Everyone will be rewarded by their feats, that’s how it is here." He moved forward as the people crossed over. Their leader, at the front of them all, finally announced:

"Welcome, everyone, to the true world."