The kitchen table, their kitchen table, just blinked out of existence. The space where it used to stand felt weirdly empty, like a vacuum in reality. Ryan was speechless, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the spot where solid oak had been just seconds ago. The disbelief etched into every line of his face, his outstretched hand hovering in the void where the table had been. Charlie waited, each tick of the clock a testament to Ryan's shock. An uncanny silence swallowed up the room, the only sound was the laboured ticking of the clock and their staggered breaths. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ryan broke the silence with a hushed whisper, full of disbelief and a touch of awe, "What in the actual fuck?" Charlie couldn't help but wince at Ryan's words, an explicit testament to the mind-bending reality they'd just witnessed. The silence stretched on, filled with questions and a sense of unrealness that hung in the air. Recognizing his role in the situation, Charlie decided to make the first move.
Bracing himself, he launched into an explanation about everything he had learned about this so-called 'system' and the reality shift they'd just experienced. His voice gained more certainty as he talked, the words flowing more easily as he detailed his experiences, his revelations. He watched Ryan closely, noting the whirlwind of emotions that crashed over his brother's face - shock, terror, confusion, and finally a glimmer of recognition. The pieces were falling into place, Charlie could see that in Ryan's eyes. The sight of Ryan's widening eyes at the disappearance of the table sent a pang through Charlie. His brother, usually so in control, was struggling to come to grips with the idea that their world had just tilted off its axis. His own fears mirrored in Ryan's face. They were venturing into the unknown, stepping into a reality that had until now existed only in his books.
But through the storm of fear and confusion, Charlie could see Ryan's determination take hold. He was struggling, yes, but there was resolve in his eyes. He had always been Charlie's protector, his guide, and it seemed that wouldn't change even in the face of something so unimaginable. As Ryan visibly steadied himself, Charlie felt a rush of gratitude and relief. Ryan's concern was palpable, the weight of their new reality pressing down on him. But despite everything, he was there, grounding Charlie as they faced the unknown together. They were in this together, no matter what challenges lay ahead. Ryan’s acceptance of the situation sent a wave of reassurance over Charlie. His brother would be there for him, just like he always had been. And together, they would navigate this bizarre new world.
“Charlie,” Ryan stuttered, his usually firm voice quaking with a mixture of surprise and concern, “Can you... Can you fill me in on the details of this quest? I need to get my head around what we’re up against.” With a gulp, Charlie began to recite the details of the seemingly impossible task assigned to him by the system. As he spilt the specifics, he could see Ryan's face twisting into a mask of horrified disbelief. The quest sounded more like a death sentence, a brutal gauntlet that would chew up and spit out even the hardiest of warriors. From Charlie's point of view, the grim realization that his brother was trying to process the gravity of the situation was evident.
Ryan's eyes darted around the room, taking in the mundane reality of their home as if it were alien. His mind must have been racing, grappling with the insurmountable nature of Charlie's challenge, the cruelty of a system that would thrust such a burden onto his physically challenged brother. Fear flashed across Ryan's eyes, and Charlie could see a layer of dread seeping into his expression, the thought of him being alone in the face of mortal danger was almost too much for Ryan to bear.
But Charlie knew his brother. Behind that fear was an unyielding resolve, a protective instinct that had always been Ryan's defining trait. He had to be there for Charlie, had to support him and, more than anything, fight for him. As Charlie watched, he saw Ryan suck in a deep breath, visibly willing himself to stay steady. There was a silent promise there, a vow that Ryan would do everything within his power to help Charlie survive this brutal test. Reaching out, Ryan placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder, the touch a warm reassurance amidst the cold reality of their situation. "Alright, Charlie," he began, his voice steady now, emanating an aura of calm and certainty. "We're in this together. We'll find a way. But first, we need to clear our heads and strategize. We can't afford to let panic dictate our actions."
Ryan was fixed on the vacant spot in the room where their kitchen table had once resided, his eyes wide and his brow creased in thought. The silence hung heavy in the room, thick with uncertainty and a tinge of fear, until Ryan finally found his voice again. Trying to add a light note to their dire situation, he managed to quip, "Charlie... do you think you can pull our kitchen table back from wherever it vanished? I have a feeling Mom might notice its absence come morning." Charlie glanced around their now disordered kitchen, realization setting in. How could they pretend like everything was normal when their world had just been turned upside down? His eyes found Ryan's, a flurry of questions and doubts etched in his gaze. As he set about retrieving the table from the ring, a question slipped from his lips, one that had been nagging at the back of his mind. "Should we... Should we let Mom and Dad in on all this?"
Ryan's face, which had softened somewhat after his jest, grew serious once again. Charlie could tell he was deep in thought, contemplating the potential fallout of revealing their extraordinary circumstances to their parents. After a heavy pause, Ryan finally responded, "No, Charlie," his voice held a firm conviction. "They wouldn't even begin to grasp what's happening. And even if they could, there’s nothing they could do to assist us at the moment. Let's figure out what we’re dealing with first, and then we can decide if we need to involve them.
”Charlie nodded a surge of both relief and melancholy washing over him. He trusted Ryan’s judgment implicitly. Involving their parents would just add to the pandemonium and potentially even put them in harm's way. Still, there was a niggling pang of guilt at having to hide such a monumental secret from their own family. Sensing Charlie's inner turmoil, Ryan's stern expression softened, his lips curling into a thoughtful smile as he suggested a solution that caught both of them off guard. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, a glimmer of anticipation lighting up his eyes. “What if we slowly introduce Mom and Dad to the world of Dungeons & Dragons? You know, teach them about system mechanics, stat sheets, levelling up... but without revealing the real reason. We could say it's a way for them to connect with you, to better understand something that you're really passionate about.”
Charlie's eyes widened in surprise, his mind slowly processing the genius of Ryan's idea. It was a well-thought-out plan that would subtly familiarise their parents with the mechanics of this new reality, while also providing a plausible cover for their own investigation into this enigmatic new world. A wave of gratitude towards his brother washed over Charlie. He was amazed at how quickly Ryan had adapted to his bizarre circumstances, coming up with ideas to make things easier. As they resumed their discussion about his daunting quest, a flicker of memory sparked in Charlie's mind, he remembered the notification.
Quest - Get Equipped
Quest Details:
Objective: Acquire the following equipment within the designated timeframe.
Time Limit: 14 days 2 hours 11 minutes
Equipment Checklist:
1. Any weapon suitable for close-quarter combat.
2. Protective body armour to safeguard against harm.
Note: Acquiring these items will be essential for your survival and success within the dungeon.
Remember, time is of the essence. If level 1 of the dungeon has not been cleared by the end of the time limit the dungeon will enter a state of overflow.
Charlie swallowed hard, nervously communicating the quest notification's details to Ryan, stressing the time constraint and how it was tied to the completion of his first dungeon. The message's urgency was a clarion call for immediate preparation. "Ryan," Charlie started, his tone heavy with unease, "the deadline for this quest is directly linked to clearing a dungeon. I've only got two weeks to get all the gear I need and beat the first level. I... I need your help. I'm not sure what to do."
Ryan's brows knitted together, his face mirroring the weight of the information he was processing. He grasped the situation's gravity and the need for swift action. "You're right, Charlie," he affirmed, resolve stealing his voice. "We don't have a second to spare. Tomorrow, I'll grab my HEMA gear from the garage. I've got both things you need on that list. But listen up, we're not charging into the dungeon blind. First, I'll show you some basic swordplay, and then we'll get down to training. You'll have to train like your life's hanging in the balance because it kinda is. If, after a week of gruelling work, I think you're ready, we'll consider making a run at the dungeon."
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Charlie was sceptical, struggling to believe that a mere week of training could significantly boost his capabilities. He shared his doubts with Ryan, his tone heavy with incredulity. "A week of training... Do you really believe that's going to cut it, Ryan?" Charlie probed, scepticism dripping from his words. "How can I possibly level up enough in just seven days?"
Ryan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. "Charlie, did you ever actually read any of your books?" he quizzed, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "In those stories, characters undergo brutal training and show incredible growth in no time. It's not about how long you train, but how focused and efficient you are." He went on, "Remember that skills list you've got? It tracks your progress in various areas. I'll bet you anything that if you dedicate yourself to mastering the sword and shield, you'll start seeing marked improvement in just a few days. And if the skills list reflects that improvement, I'll be content. Besides, without proper sword handling, you're as likely to lop off your own arm as you are an enemy's."
Charlie paused, mulling over Ryan's words. He realised his brother had a point. If the new world he found himself in was bound by the same rules as the stories he adored, If he could focus and push himself beyond his limits, maybe he could tap into some latent potential. "Alright," Charlie finally responded, determination colouring his voice. "I'll take your word for it, Ryan. I'll train like every second counts. I want to see those improvements myself and prove that I can do this."
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As the morning sun hung in the sky at 8 am, Charlie and Ryan stationed themselves in the backyard. Laid out before them was an array of training gear - armour, shields, and swords. Ryan explained that the equipment served as training tools, while the actual battle-ready weapons were tucked away in storage, reserved for the right moment. But first, Ryan wanted Charlie to acclimate himself to the equipment's heft.
"Today, I'll guide you through some basic forms," Ryan announced, scooping up a round shield and extending it towards Charlie. "But before that, I want you to wear the full kit I've prepared around the house for the rest of the day. It's crucial to get comfortable with the weight as fast as possible." Charlie paused, eyeing the collection of equipment warily. The shield in his hand felt substantial, and Ryan clarified that the actual ones could weigh anywhere between 3 to 5 kg, depending on their dimensions. "This training shield tips the scales at 6 kg," Ryan informed him. "You might find it a bit hefty, but I promise you, it'll be worth it in the long run." Charlie could already feel the pressure in his arm from holding the shield. Lifting it wasn't an issue, but he couldn't ignore its significant weight. He had a gut feeling that the upcoming day would be back-breaking.
While Charlie grappled with the shield, Ryan gestured towards a section of the equipment pile that was studded with training swords. Charlie's eyes widened as he surveyed the assortment of swords, each one unique in design and function. He tentatively picked out a short training sword, testing its weight. The sword was 20 inches long and crafted from a dense, matt black rubber material with a steel core, giving it a realistic weight of 2.5 kg. It had been meticulously fashioned to imitate the feel and balance of a real sword, without compromising safety during training. Ryan then redirected his focus to the armour, guiding Charlie through the steps of strapping on the heavy training breastplate and backplate. The bright red composite material sparkled under the sunlight, radiating an air of invincibility. Charlie couldn't help but voice out his doubts about the equipment's weight as he grappled with adjusting the armour onto his frame. The combined weight of the breastplate and backplate was a staggering 7.5 kg.
Ryan offered a comforting smile, explaining, "Don't stress, Charlie. This training gear is deliberately heavier than what you'll actually be using. It's designed to push your strength and endurance during training. When it's time to use the real stuff, you'll feel like you're just wearing regular clothes. Trust me, it'll make things much easier for you."
Guiding Charlie through a sequence of essential sword and shield manoeuvres, Ryan demonstrated each movement with skill and elegance. The sunlight cast a warm, golden aura around their makeshift training ground as they commenced their session. Ryan, with a shield in one hand and a sword in the other, modelled the correct stance, instructing Charlie on foot positioning for balance and quickness. They began with the basic technique of warding off incoming blows, Ryan's sword connecting with Charlie's shield in a powerful clash. The rhythm of their movements was smooth and intentional, the thump of their training weapons echoing in the air.
However, Charlie's disability soon threw a spanner in the works. His movements were sluggish and not as fluid as Ryan's, and balancing while holding both the shield and sword proved to be a challenge. Despite his resolve, a mere 15 minutes into the training, Charlie was panting heavily, the combined weight of the equipment and the demanding nature of the exercises draining his stamina. Yet, Charlie stood firm in his determination. He wiped away the sweat accumulating on his forehead, his face red from exertion, and persevered. Ryan provided both encouragement and instruction, tweaking the routines to better suit Charlie's abilities without sacrificing the efficacy of the training. They punctuated their regimen with regular breaks to regain their breath, hydrate, and soothe their aching muscles.
As the day trudged on, the trials amplified. Charlie's body screamed in protest, every swing of his sword and every block of his shield feeling increasingly heavier. But, true to his promise and unfaltering grit, Charlie stubbornly kept the equipment on, resolute to adapt to the weight and bolster his endurance. By the time lunch rolled around, Charlie felt spent. His limbs shook with fatigue, and his body demanded a break. Each step felt like a marathon, and the burden of the gear seemed to amplify as the minutes ticked by. The temptation to unstrap the equipment and surrender to his exhaustion was potent, but he knew that persistence was the pathway to progress.
Charlie watched as concern etched deeper lines onto Ryan's face after a taxing morning of training. He could tell his brother was worried about him, even as he gritted his teeth and insisted he could carry on. Ryan put his foot down, though, halting their session. Charlie could hear the wisdom in Ryan's words as he explained the necessity of rest and recovery, the logic that recuperation was as important as the exertion itself. It was during these moments of pause that Charlie's aching muscles would find a chance to mend and strengthen, readying him for the battles that lay ahead. Grudgingly, Charlie surrendered to his brother's argument. The physical training halted for the afternoon, but Charlie continued to bear the weight of the equipment, dedicated to familiarizing his body with its load. He could feel the pressure digging into his shoulders, the weight of the gear pressing him down. As the day turned into early evening, just wearing the armour felt like trying to summit Everest. Every step, every motion felt monumental, a colossal effort. All he wanted was the soft, welcoming embrace of his bed, his exhausted body craving relief.
It was in the middle of this enforced break that their parents returned from their weekend getaway. Charlie watched their faces transform from surprised to confused to worried as they took in the sight of him, sitting at the kitchen table, fully armoured and visibly worn out but stubbornly determined. Ryan, reading their concern, pulled them aside. Even from a distance, Charlie could see the seriousness on Ryan's face as he explained the situation. Ryan shared with them that Charlie, tired of feeling physically frail due to his cerebral palsy, had approached him for help. From Ryan's animated hand gestures, Charlie knew he was telling them about the physical training they had embarked on and how Charlie believed he could mitigate his condition through it. Ryan's steady voice and resolute gaze reassured their parents. Charlie knew his brother; when he put his mind to something, he gave it his all. That unyielding dedication to Charlie's well-being, even in the face of their parents' initial worry, eased their concerns, although they were still left with plenty of questions about this unorthodox strategy.
As the remnants of daylight faded into the evening, Charlie was plagued by an ever-growing discomfort. The composite armour he'd borne throughout the day seemed to gain weight as the minutes passed, sapping every last ounce of energy from his already weary body. Each step he took was a Herculean task, the armour sticking to him, confining his movements and fostering irritation. On top of the physical ordeal, the silent exchange of anxious glances between his parents escalated his unease. He could read the mix of confusion and concern in their eyes, silently probing the drastic measures he'd taken in pursuit of a physical transformation.
Overwhelmed by the physical exhaustion and the emotional burden, Charlie felt himself crumbling under the pressure. The urge to escape to the sanctuary of his room became irresistible, yearning for the refuge of an early night's sleep. The armour, a well-intended symbol of his commitment, was now an intolerable encumbrance, bearing down on him physically and emotionally. Heaving a sigh, heavy with fatigue, Charlie said his goodnights and retreated to his room. As he climbed into bed, he craved to cast off the armour's weight and the disquiet it had instilled within him. Yet, despite the desperate tiredness in his bones, sleep was elusive, his mind a whirlwind of doubts and questions about the new path he'd bravely embarked upon. The endless circle of his thoughts spun on, forming a barrier against the peace he so desperately needed.