Marcus Gallagher had never been fond of slow days at work.

On the first day of the 'comapocalypse' as the world had started calling it, he found himself willing time to move faster at work. The monotony of the day was almost unbearable.

By the second day, his concern was growing and tinged with unease.

‘Another pandemic? Aliens?’ His mind wrestled with theories, trying to explain why people were suddenly falling into comas.

He found no solace in the news. The pseudo-experts on screen, capitalizing on fear and uncertainty, annoyed him.

Lord Dawson from the 'Children of the End' particularly grated on his nerves. To Marcus, he was nothing more than a slick salesman peddling fantasies.

The rumors circulating about people waking up in a world akin to a video game made him scoff.

It was more likely that the government was lacing the water supply with hallucinogens than these outlandish tales being true.

However, amidst the chaos, he appreciated the government's swift action. Learning from the recent pandemic, they immediately imposed restrictions on essential goods, avoiding unnecessary panic and hoarding.

Still, Marcus found himself burdened with additional work, covering for a colleague whose family was affected by the coma epidemic.

He bit back his irritation, especially when his coworkers couldn't stop chattering about the comapocalypse.

Marcus wasn't particularly fond of them. In customer service, liking people was a luxury. One merely endured their existence.

Returning to his apartment after another grueling day, he slid the key into the lock and thought of the blissful solitude awaiting him.

He plopped onto the couch and flicked on the television, eager to unwind with some footy.

But something was off. His favorite team was missing some of their key players. A quick search on his phone confirmed his suspicions - they were among the comatose victims. His brow furrowed in worry.

‘How are the Reds supposed to win the championship if our star player is in a coma?’ He thought.

Feeling an unusual wave of exhaustion wash over him, he decided to turn in early.

As he closed his eyes, he let the strange events of the day recede into the darkness.

*Welcome to the Dreamverse*

Marcus's heart pounded in his chest as he saw the words.

The sensation of cool air against his skin confirmed his sudden, startling nudity. He was standing outside of a quaint, bustling village.

Instant panic gripped him.

This was the same scenario those people on the news had described, a reality he had dismissed as delusion.

His mind raced, praying this was all an elaborate, vivid dream. In a desperate attempt to validate this, he pinched himself hard.

"Ouch!" The sharp sting shot through his arm, and his hope crumbled.

"There's another one over here!" a voice called out.

Marcus jerked his head up, quickly covering himself as a group of people approached.

Some were distinctly human, while others bore the exotic characteristics of races he could only equate to fantasy novels.

A few of them looked at him with pity, he was sure his nakedness had a part to play.

A human man separated from the group and approached him, offering a warm smile. "Hello there, my name is Rhys. I'm the leader of this village. And you are?"

Marcus hesitated, taking in Rhys's friendly demeanor before responding. "Marcus... Where am I?"

"You, Marcus, are in the Dreamverse," Rhys responded, nodding. "Specifically, in the Barolan Kingdom of Lenus. We've had several travelers from your world, Earth, appear here in the past few days. We've extended our hospitality to them, and we'd like to do the same for you, if you're willing."

Standing exposed before a group of strangers, Marcus didn't need to ponder his answer. Rhys's offer was accepted swiftly.

A pile of clothes appeared magically in Rhys's outstretched hand, capturing Marcus's fascination.

As he reached out for them, Rhys chuckled and said, "It's not magic, it's called Inventory. You can do it too."

Marcus blushed in slight embarrassment, apologizing quickly and thanking Rhys for the clothes.

"Your fellow travelers reacted the same way, don't be sorry," Rhys responded, the corners of his mouth curling in amusement.

“Come, the village’s entrance is this way.”

Guided into the village, Marcus was led to the central square.

He couldn't help but notice a group of individuals dressed like him, clearly fellow Earthlings. They stood apart from the villagers, tension etched on their faces, clearly as bewildered as he was.

Marcus's gaze was drawn towards a few figures stationed behind tables, a setup reminiscent of job fairs he had attended. An expectation of recruitment hung in the air, the opportunity to offer one's information in hopes of being chosen.

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He began to gravitate towards a group of Earthlings, eager for familiarity and answers.

But before he could strike a conversation, Rhys commanded everyone's attention from a makeshift stage.

"Hello everyone," Rhys began, his voice resonating in the square. "If you aren’t already aware, my name is Rhys Anwir. I am the chief of this village, responsible for ensuring its smooth operation and prosperity. Most of our villagers are currently engaged in their daily tasks, so the majority of people here are your fellow Earthlings."

Marcus watched as Rhys seamlessly transitioned to his next point. "You are the third batch of travelers to enter our village. We wish to provide you with some starting resources to—"

A woman, an Earthling like Marcus, voiced her fear and desperation. "Can you not send us home?" She pleaded.

With an apologetic sigh, Rhys replied, "I’m sorry, but that is something beyond my control. You are travelers, meaning you cannot leave the Dreamverse until you naturally wake up on your home planet. Right now, your souls are here while your bodies remain on Earth."

The woman, distressed, shot back, "Listen, I've watched the news. I know... I know what happens to those who come here. Most of them end up in comas. Please, I don't want to end up in a coma. I have a precious newborn who depends on me, and a loving husband who needs me. Please... Please, I beg you, send me back. I can't bear the thought of leaving them behind."

Marcus could feel the desperation in her words, and he shared her fear.

The conversation led him to a terrifying realization: their souls were here, which was why people were falling into comas. If they couldn't leave the Dreamverse, they could indeed be stuck here indefinitely.

'But didn’t Rhys say we would naturally wake up on Earth? Why haven’t those coma victims woken up yet?' He pondered.

His thoughts were interrupted by Rhys, who was now wearing a mask of guilt. "I'm truly sorry, but it's beyond my power. I’m just a lowly Tier 1 being. I can't alter the rules of the Dreamverse. Not even an Entity could aid you."

Rhys swept his arm in the direction of the tables scattered throughout the room. His voice carried clearly to everyone present, "Each of you will need to register at one of these tables. This will help us learn more about you and assign roles based on what you used to do in your world."

Marcus studied Rhys as he spoke. There was a softness in the man's voice, a layer of guilt that added depth to his expressions.

It was evident that the plight of the Earthlings affected him, this group of strangers suddenly thrust into an alien world, their lives uprooted in an instant.

Rhys continued, his gaze sweeping over the group, "I understand that you're probably feeling lost, confused. That's why we're here to help you navigate this world. So, please, help us help you."

Marcus couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for Rhys.

He wore his guilt openly, clearly touched by their predicament. He seemed to genuinely care, and in this strange new world, that meant something.

Following Rhys's instructions, Marcus found himself in line at a table overseen by a scarred man with a no-nonsense air about him.

The man's demeanor and brisk answers to questions suggested a military background.

One by one, Earthlings filled in their forms, then silently retreated to another area. The lack of conversation seemed odd, but Marcus shrugged it off.

By the time it was his turn, he had already heard answers to most of his questions. He filled out the basics quickly - name, age, sex, and paused at 'profession'.

"Uh, do you guys know what a burger flipper is? If so, what kind of work could I get?" he asked the scarred man.

The man's confusion was evident, prompting Marcus to sigh and write 'Actor' instead. He was an aspiring actor anyway, just waiting for that one chance to shine.

Burger flipping wasn't his forever plan.

He signed his full name at the end without a second thought. A split second later, words appeared before him, much like the system message from earlier.

*You have signed a contract.*

'A contract?' His mind reeled.

*Enforcing the terms of the contract… You have been silenced. You are now moving to the location specified in the contract.*

The next message froze him in shock.

His body was no longer his to control. He couldn't utter a sound. He tried to scream, to warn others, but his body kept walking, his face impassive.

Fear tightened its grip as he moved deeper into the village.

Villagers glanced his way, guilt flashing in their eyes before they quickly lowered their gaze.

His path led him straight towards a building's solid wall. At his current speed, a collision wouldn't hurt him, but why walk towards a wall?

His confusion was replaced by disbelief as he phased through the wall instead of colliding with it.

'What in the Harry Potter bullshit is going on?' he thought, horror intertwining with confusion.

A system message appeared, freeing Marcus from his silence and granting him control of his body again.

Immediately, he unleashed a volley of curses, directing the most venomous ones at Rhys.

"Are you done?" a voice interrupted his tirade.

Startled, Marcus looked around, finally taking note of his surroundings. He appeared to be in some sort of military camp, a man clad in armor standing before him.

Infuriated and demanding answers, Marcus started to speak, “Who the hell are you and wha—”

The armored man cut him off, "this is your first warning, recruit. If you speak to me like that again, I'll make sure your time here is painful."

“Shove your—” The armored man landed a swift punch to his gut, leaving him gasping for air.

"You will refer to me as 'squad leader.' Do you understand?" The man glowered at Marcus who managed a fearful nod in response.

"Enter the tent behind me. There, you'll learn how you can serve the Barolan Kingdom."

Seeking to avoid another blow, Marcus swiftly entered the tent.

Inside, he encountered a man with genuine cat ears atop his head, an image that would have been laughable if not for the man's intimidating demeanor.

The cat-eared man commanded him to wait in the back for the briefing.

As Marcus complied, he noted other familiar faces around him - Earthlings he had seen in line earlier.

The woman who had spoken up about her newborn and husband was among them, shaking with fear.

The cat-eared man, who identified his race as 'Catkin,' explained their predicament.

Apparently, by signing their names, they had unknowingly enlisted in the Barolan Kingdom's military for a term of five years.

The news filled Marcus with rage and frustration, emotions mirrored in the faces of the other Earthlings.

They were assigned to different units and given a crash course in combat. After several grueling hours, Marcus felt the fight leaving him.

They were stuck in this situation and Marcus saw no way of getting out. The only thing he could do now was wait till the time he'd wake up back on Earth.

He and several other conscripts were then assigned to assist a group of Lumindor people. As they prepared to leave, Marcus spotted Rhys among the crowd.

The sight of the village chief caused anger among the Earthlings and it was only their fear of the soldiers around them that kept them from rushing to beat the man.

His squad leader approached Rhys. After a brief argument, the leader handed Rhys a pouch - presumably filled with money.

The guilt on Rhys's face intensified, fueling Marcus's desire to make him pay, consequences be damned.

As his squad leader mounted his horse, Marcus walked over to Rhys.

He needed to know why.