“Ugh…”

As his consciousness slowly returned, Grant felt a pain like never before emanating from his head.

It felt like someone had taken a sword and stabbed it directly into his head without it killing him and just left it there to torture him.

He couldn’t stop himself from grasping his head with both of his hands and rolling around in a failed attempt to relieve himself of the pain.

The pain continued to throb incessantly for nearly five minutes before it started to dissipate slowly.

As the pain began to subside, his vision slowly began to refocus. He hadn’t noticed it at first since the pain in his head was so distracting, but even with his eyes closed tightly due to the pain, his “vision” had been nothing but a curtain of white light.

With the pain fading, he had finally been able to open his eyes and as he did so, the white light also began to recede.

He had expected to see the familiar landscape of the hill around his home, but no matter which way he turned his head, he was unable to locate anything even remotely familiar.

When he realized he was no longer in front of his parent’s house, he sat bolt upright and frantically looked around trying to determine where he was.

All Grant could see was a desolate wasteland spreading in every direction that was sparsely populated with dead or decaying trees and plant life. In-between the trees Grant occasionally saw rock or boulder structures protruding from the ground.

The sky was a dark hue of orange and red with three “suns” hanging loosely in the sky. He didn’t know if they could be considered suns because they didn’t radiate light the same way the sun he was used too would.

After searching his surroundings, Grant realized that not only did he find himself in an unfamiliar place, but the bag he had brought along with him when he left his parents house was now nowhere to be found.

The more he panicked due to his current predicament the quicker he lost control over his emotions; however, one emotion started to dominate his mind more than any other.

Fear.

He couldn’t remember what happened or why he had fallen unconscious. All he could remember was standing in front of his parent’s house preparing to head towards the local militia building.

And yet, now, he found himself here, in this foreign hellscape.

Every fiber of his being was taut and on edge while his mind was quickly falling deeper in the bottomless pit that was fear.

Where was he?

Why was he here?

What happened to him to make him experience so much pain?

Would he die here?

Is he dead already?!

Although he wanted to remain logical and in control, his current circumstances weren’t allowing him to do so.

The more questions he asked himself without having an answer, the more terrified he became.

When he thought that he may be dead already, he was well and truly on the verge of a mental breakdown.

He knew he had to do something to refocus his mind.

In a desperate bid to distract his mind and return to rationality, Grant suddenly rolled over onto his hands and knees and slammed his head into the ground.

The pain wasn’t nearly as strong or piercing as what he had felt when he first woke up, but it was enough to stop the raging torrent of emotions that had begun to take over.

For good measure, Grant slammed his head into the ground a few more times, with increasingly more force each time.

On the fifth time, Grant managed to break the skin on his forehead open and a small trail of blood trickled down his face.

Dizzy but subtly in control of his emotions at that point, Grant rolled back over onto his rear and sat there holding his head letting the pain clear away any lingering thoughts.

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As Grant was about to stand up and prepare for his next steps, a figure suddenly materialized in front of him.

“Hahaha you are interesting human! I never thought you would be able to gain control of your emotions after allowing them to take control of you the way you had!

It’s actually quite impressive what you just managed to pull off. Most all consciousnesses that end up here are immediately overwhelmed by the density of the miasma and lose themselves to either fear or hatred.

I must commend you for what you have accomplished.

Well done.”

Grant however, had no interest in what the figure had to say. The sudden appearance and the overwhelmingly powerful aura the figure was giving off only made him think of one thing: Death.

As he quickly scrambled to his feet, he grabbed a branch that had been lying next to him and brought it in front of himself like he would a sword and faced off against the figure.

He knew it was an utterly futile gesture, but he would not let himself die without even so much as a fight.

Grant was already overwhelmed with shame and embarrassment for letting the earlier fear cloud his judgement and he would not let it happen a second time.

The figure, to its credit, did nothing while Grant took up his fighting stance. If anything, it seemed to be intrigued by the gesture.

Neither of them spoke for what felt like an eternity to Grant.

Seeing that the figure had no intention to move or even speak again, Grant took a moment and focused on what it actually was that was standing in front of him.

But he realized that no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t make out any defining features.

It looked as if someone had drawn the undefined outline of the human body and filled it in with a black so dark no light could even penetrate it.

The only reason Grant could even tell that something stood there enshrouded in darkness was that the outlines of the body had subtle wisps of black “smoke” emanating from deeper within the darkness.

The figure itself stood at nearly the same height as himself, but its presence made it seem as tall as a mountain.

After a few more seconds of squaring off, Grant finally mustered the courage to speak.

“Where am I and how did I end up here? What do you want from me?”

The figure didn’t respond immediately, but instead it snapped its fingers.

As Grant felt a surge of energy in his surroundings, he prepared for the worst and subsequently lunged forward in an attempt to stop the figure from doing whatever it was that it was doing.

Before he could take his second step forward however, the surroundings changed.

Grant found himself in a vast and beautiful hall.

Although he was scared of the figure, he was suddenly overwhelmed by his new surroundings and how they had managed to change so drastically and inevitably he couldn’t stop himself from looking around in amazement.

The hall stretched as far as he could see.

There were stone pillars that reached upwards and into the “sky” and disappeared into the void as if there was no roof above his head, only nothingness.

Grant couldn’t locate a light source and yet the room was perfectly lit, at least up to a certain distance away from himself.

Beneath his feet a rug stretched out a few feet to both his sides before spreading out in front and behind him as far as the hall stretched.

After realizing that he had lost focus once again, Grant quickly focused on the figure who was now sitting opposite him at what appeared to be a small marble or granite table.

The figure had its fingers interlocked and placed below its chin as it observed him.

“Oh feel free to observe the space as much as you like. You will not have a chance to see this place again. Unless.. well, just take your time. I’m in no rush.”

Grant resisted the urge to continue observing the surroundings and focused on the figure in front of him. After a few moments, he mustered the courage to speak.

“Who are you and where are we? What do you want from me?”

Since Grant couldn’t see the figures facial features it was impossible to tell, but he got the vague feeling that the figure was smiling at him.

“How rude of me. You had already asked those questions and yet I did not answer. My apologies.

Now, as to your first question, I will have to decline answering. You do not need or want to know the answer.

As for the second question, I do not want anything in particular from you right now. What I really wanted has already been achieved.”

Grant knew it would do him no good to argue with the figure, so he simply moved onto his next questions.

“If what you wanted has already been achieved, then why am I here? You are the one who brought me here, are you not?”

Rather than answer, the figure simply nodded its head up and down in agreement before it spoke, “You are correct in assuming that I am the one who brought you here. As for why, it was for your own good. To protect you.

You do not remember now due to the shock, but your world has been commandeered by the Gods and Goddess to be used as a playground for the humans of Earth.

The native inhabitants of your world have now been, to describe it accurately as possible, enslaved.”

Grants face twisted into one of disbelief and incredulity.

“My world has been commandeered? The people are slaves now? What the hell are you talking about?!”

The figure only sighed for a moment before it once again snapped its fingers.

Grant had expected the surroundings to change again but instead, a somehow familiar yet unfamiliar surge of energy came from his toes and started to venture through his body and towards his head.

Not knowing what was happening Grant suddenly had a vague sense of fear towards the energy but before he could react, Grant was suddenly bombarded by memories of a voice inside his head talking about how his world had been chosen by the Gods and Goddesses as the destination for something called a VRMMORPG: Fate’s Glory.

As he dissected the remnants of information flashing through his mind, he realized one thing. Whatever that voice was, clearly didn’t want him to be a part of whatever was happening to his world.

At one point the voice even tried to report him to the Gods and Goddesses!

On the other side of the table, the figure simply watched as Grant’s face continued to cycle through a myriad of emotions before settling on one that was a mix of shock and anger. When he saw that Grant had managed to rein in his thoughts, the figure finally spoke.

“Do you see why I said your people have been enslaved? You are now nothing more than pawns in someone else’s game.

Literally.”