The rhythmic clatter of the subway car filled the air as Leon Carter leaned back against the window, a relaxed smile on his face. The train rumbled beneath him, its steel wheels grinding against the tracks as it carried him toward Brooklyn. His reflection flickered in the glass—a young man in his late twenties, dark brown hair slightly tousled, a five o’clock shadow creeping along his jaw. His hazel eyes carried an easy warmth, a quiet optimism.

He drummed his fingers against his knee, humming softly to himself. New York. The city of endless movement. It had been almost a year since he’d moved here, chasing a dream born from childhood stories of his grandfather. The man had been a glassblower, working in a small workshop tucked away in a quiet town upstate. Leon had spent countless afternoons watching him shape molten glass, his old hands guiding it into delicate forms. It was mesmerizing. Magical, even.

That magic had pulled him here.

Leon glanced around the subway car, taking in the people around him, a habit of his. Every train ride was a story waiting to be noticed, a moment in someone else’s life.

Across from him sat an elderly woman, her hair pulled into a tight bun, knitting away at something red and soft. Her hands worked with practiced ease, her expression unreadable. Beside her, a bored teenager, hoodie pulled over his head, blasting music so loudly through his headphones that Leon could hear the tinny beat from where he sat.

Further down, a man in a crisp business suit furiously tapped at his phone, his jaw tight, stress practically radiating off him in waves. His foot bounced impatiently against the floor as if the train wasn’t going fast enough.

Leon smirked. Corporate America in its natural habitat.

A few seats away, a woman in yoga pants held a tiny dog in her lap, stroking it absently while scrolling through her phone. The dog a small, nervous-looking thing let out a soft yip every time the train jostled too much.

Near the doors, a homeless man, wrapped in layers of worn-out jackets, muttered to himself between quiet fits of laughter. His gaze flicked between the people around him, his lips moving in silent conversation with someone only he could see.

And then there was the firefighter. Leon’s eyes locked onto him as soon as he noticed the thermos in his hand. Bright red, scratched, and dented, with bold, white letters that read:

"FIREFIGHTER TO THE HEAT."

Leon stifled a laugh, rubbing a hand over his chin. Well, I wonder what that guy does for a living? He almost said it out loud but kept it to himself. The firefighter was a big guy, with broad shoulders, closely cropped hair, the kind of guy who looked like he could bench press a truck. He sat quietly, his face serious, scanning the subway car with a practiced wariness.

Leon turned his gaze back to the window, watching the blurred tunnels flash past. Today was a good day.

He was heading to a new glassblowing workshop in Brooklyn, a place he had been dying to check out. New equipment, new techniques to learn. He could already feel the heat of the furnace, smell the faint burn of melted silica, and hear the quiet hum of the blowpipes spinning in careful hands.

His chest swelled with excitement.

Then the world shook.

A low, rumbling tremor rattled the subway car.

Leon frowned, his body tensing. An earthquake? Now? The lights above flickered, casting erratic shadows across the walls. The train lurched, the brakes screeching in protest as the entire car shuddered violently.

The old woman’s knitting fell to the floor.

The businessman’s phone slipped from his hands.

The little dog in the woman’s lap let out a frantic yelp, scrambling in circles as its owner gripped it tightly.

“What the hell—” Leon barely had time to process before the sound hit.

A deep, gut-wrenching groan.

It came from everywhere as if the very bones of the Earth were twisting, reshaping. The subway lights flickered once. Twice.

Then they died completely. For a moment, there was only darkness.

And then, nothing.

Leon’s breath hitched.

His body wasn’t pressed against the subway seat anymore. He wasn’t touching anything. His feet dangled in the open air. There was no ground, walls, or train for that matter.

Just an endless, weightless void.

He spun wildly, panic gripping his chest. His hands reached out blindly, searching for something, anything, to hold onto.

He wasn’t alone.

Shapes floated all around him hundreds, thousands of people, and that was all that he could see, there were probably more, they all were drifting in the empty abyss. Their faces were frozen in expressions of shock, fear, and confusion. Some screamed, but there was no sound.

Leon’s breath came in short, ragged gasps. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real.

He spotted the firefighter nearby, his face grim, fists clenched.

The homeless man was there too, his wild laughter silent, his eyes darting around like he was still trying to piece together whatever nightmare he had landed in.

The old woman clutched her knitting needles to her chest, her face blank, eyes staring ahead as if she had simply refused to process any of this.

Leon turned frantically, searching the void, trying to make sense of it.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

No walls. No sky. Just the endless, impossible blackness stretching forever.

Then, he saw Earth.

Or rather… what used to be Earth.

It was changing.

Shifting, twisting, merging with other landmasses, other worlds.

Continents reformed before his eyes. Oceans swallowed entire cities, only to reshape into new, unfamiliar coastlines.

Mountains erupted from nothing, piercing the clouds, forests stretching out across the landscape like wildfire.

And then he saw them.

People. Creatures. Entire races he didn’t recognize, other them from games or novels.

Elves. Dwarves, and others, Leon’s pulse pounded in his ears. What the hell am I looking at?

His brain refused to accept it. This was a dream. It had to be.

But then, something else happened.

A voice. Not a sound. Not a whisper. Just… an undeniable presence.

"Inhabitants of this new world."

Leon froze.

"Your people and your old world, along with many other intelligent races, have been integrated into the greater whole of the multiverse."

Leon shook his head. No. No, this is wrong. This isn’t—

"You have all been chosen."

His throat tightened. Chosen? What was it even talking about, the multiverse??? Some kind of Marvel shit??

"As such, you will be granted access to the System and all it offers."

A blinding pulse of energy slammed through him.

Leon screamed, his body on fire, every nerve rewriting itself in an instant.

Symbols. Numbers. Words he didn’t understand burned into his thoughts, carving themselves into his very being.

"Struggle. Survive. And strive for something greater than you could ever dream of."

Then, everything collapsed.

Leon hit solid ground. Pain lanced through his hands and knees as he gasped for breath. The air was damp. Cool. Echoes of voices filled the space around him. He blinked.

A massive underground cavern stretched in all directions, its ceiling towering high above. Glowing crystals jutted out from the walls, casting eerie blue-green light over the cavern floor.

All around him, there was chaos.

At least 200 people, shouting, crying, pacing frantically.

Leon’s hands trembled, he saw familiar faces from the subway. The old woman. The businessman. The yoga lady clutched her dog, desperately. as well as the suspected firefighter.

The underground cavern echoed with a chaotic symphony of shouting, crying, and the nervous shuffle of footsteps against a stone. Some people were pacing frantically, others sat with their knees pulled to their chests, rocking back and forth. The scent of sweat, damp rock, and fear filled the air, thick enough that Leon could almost taste it.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to think.

He was still kneeling on the rough stone floor, his hands planted on the cold ground as the reality of what had just happened tried to settle in his mind. But his brain kept rejecting it. It wasn’t possible. None of this was possible. And yet, here they were.

Leon’s hands curled into fists as he raised his head, scanning the cavern. Natural tough-looking walls. High ceilings. Glowing crystals embedded in the stone. He had never seen anything like it before.

Somewhere deep inside, his rational mind screamed for an explanation. Cave systems like this didn’t just exist in New York. So clearly this wasn’t some subway tunnel. So where did they end up?

The people around him weren’t handling things any better.

A woman was openly sobbing near one of the cavern walls, patting her pockets, searching desperately trying to find something.

"Come on, please! Where is it, damn it!" she yelled, continuing to search frantically. "Someone, call 911!"

Another man was standing near a group of college-aged students, pacing back and forth. "This is a hallucination! Mass hysteria!" he practically screamed. "There’s no way we were just… just teleported! That’s not a thing!"

A businessman had his hands pressed to his temples, muttering to himself, "Not real. Not real. Not real."

Leon’s eyes flicked toward the suspected firefighter.

The man stood tall, arms crossed, his jaw tight, watching the growing panic. He was assessing the situation, scanning the cavern, the people, calculating. Leon had seen this before. First responders. People who are trained to stay calm in a crisis.

But even he was tense. His eyes met Leon’s for the briefest moment.

A silent exchange. Stay calm. Don’t feed into the panic.

Leon broke eyecontact. Easier said than done.

He forced himself to his feet, dusting off his jeans even though there was nothing to dust off. The cavern floor was smooth, almost unnaturally so.

His legs were still shaking.

Leon needed to get a grip.

He had always been the kind of person who went with the flow. He had left his quiet hometown for the city because he wanted adventure, to do something meaningful with his hands, to create with fire, and to live freely. Well. He sure as hell got the adventure part willingy or not.

As the minutes stretched on, Leon would occasionally look at the same people from the subway.

The elderly woman, the one who had been knitting, now sat on a rock, hands folded in her lap. She wasn’t crying, she wasn’t panicking. She just sat there, silent, staring at the cavern walls with an eerie stillness.

The businessman who had been tapping away at his phone earlier now looked completely lost. His pristine suit was already smudged with dirt, his tie loosened around his neck. He stood near a small group, but he wasn’t talking. He too was just staring.

The homeless guy, well, he was still laughing.

"Hah! Would you look at this?! This is the craziest damn trip I’ve ever been on!" he cackled, spinning in a slow circle, arms spread wide. "I always said the world was gonna end in some weird-ass way! But this? This is gold!"

Leon felt his eye twitch. Of course. Of course, the craziest person in the subway was handling this better than anyone.

Then, there was the yoga lady.

She was clutching her tiny dog to her chest, rocking back and forth, her perfectly done nails trembling as she stroked the animal’s fur.

"This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening."

She repeated it like a mantra, her breath short and panicked.

Leon winced. The dog looked just as freaked out as she did, its tiny body trembling in her grip.

People were unraveling.

The fear was contagious.

And then after assessing the situation more, the firefighter stepped forward, voice booming with authority.

"Everyone, listen up!"

His voice boomed through the cavern, cutting through the chaos like a blade. The crying, the muttering, the yelling it all stopped.

The firefighter’s stance was solid, authoritative, his eyes scanning the crowd with controlled intensity.

"I need everyone to stay calm," he continued, his tone steady. "I know this is confusing. I know you’re scared. But panicking won’t help. I’m Ethan i work for the New York Fire Department, i can try my best to help you all, but we need to stay calm and work together. If we are to get through this"

Some people hesitated, others shuffled uncomfortably, but the sheer confidence in his voice seemed to anchor the room.

A woman near the back of the crowd shouted, "Help is coming, right?! We just have to wait, right?!"

The firefighter hesitated. It was so brief that most people wouldn’t have noticed. But Leon did. And that was all he needed to know. The firefighter didn’t have an answer.

Shit.

The big guy Ethan, wasn’t lying. He was trained to handle emergencies, but this? This wasn’t something anyone could prepare for. Leon found himself grinning despite everything. "...Guess I called that one right," he muttered under his breath.

Ethan heard him and raised an eyebrow.

Leon shrugged. "The thermos. Gave it away."

Ethan blinked. Then, for just a second a small smirk.

"Yeah. Fair enough."

Leon rolled his shoulders, taking a step closer to the man. He needed to get a read on him. "Name’s Leon." The firefighter glanced at him, nodded. "Ethan. Ethan Hayes." Good to know.

Leon rubbed the back of his neck. "So, Ethan, since you’re the one with experience handling crises, what’s our game plan?"

Ethan’s jaw tightened slightly. "First, we need to take stock of what we have. Who’s injured? Who’s missing? What supplies do we have?"

Leon raised an eyebrow. "Supplies? We were on a subway, man. Unless someone smuggled a survival kit in their briefcase, I think we’re out of luck."

Ethan’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Then we need to start thinking long-term." Leon frowned. "Long-term?" Ethan looked toward the cavern walls.

"We don’t know where we are. Or if anyone is coming to get us. We need to be ready for the worst-case scenario." Leon’s stomach twisted.

The worst-case scenario.

That meant they might be stuck here. Leon swallowed hard. "Right. So… what do we do first?" Ethan’s eyes scanned the group again. "We get people organized."

Leon followed his gaze. Some people still sat in shock, others whispered among themselves. No one knew what to do.

But one thing was very, very clear.

They couldn’t stay like this forever.

Something had to change, and it had to change soon. Leon had read and watched too many movies on what people did to one another when there was no law and order. Ethan got his attention, interrupting his thought, "did you look at it yet?" he said.

Leon was confused. "Look at what?".

The man looked at him for a second, then said "Your status, think status, it should show up"