Three weeks ago, the world was at peace. It was an ordinary night, with people going about their lives, unaware that everything was about to change.

In the bustling streets of New York City, the usual chaos of honking cars, flashing billboards, and the hum of city life was suddenly interrupted.

People on their evening commutes, tourists gazing up at the skyline, and those simply enjoying the night began to notice something strange.

A ripple, like a tear in the fabric of reality, spread across the sky.

Then, without warning, a massive holographic screen appeared, hovering above the city.

It was so vast that it seemed to stretch from horizon to horizon, casting an eerie glow over everything.

“What the hell is that?” someone shouted in the crowd, pointing up at the sky.

“Is this some kind of drone show?” another voice called out, confusion beginning to set in.

In Tokyo, the bustling nightlife came to a halt as the same holographic screen materialized in the night sky.

The neon lights of Shibuya Crossing were dwarfed by the giant display above, which seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy.

“何だこれ？ 新しい広告か？” (What is this? A new advertisement?) a young man muttered to his friend, trying to make sense of the surreal sight.

“No… これは広告じゃない。何か他のものだ。” (No… this isn’t an ad. It’s something else.) his friend replied, his voice tinged with unease.

In Paris, the Eiffel Tower, normally the most prominent feature of the city, was now overshadowed by the colossal screen that loomed above.

Locals stared in disbelief, murmuring to one another in a mix of fear and confusion.

“Qu’est-ce que c’est? Est-ce qu'ils tournent un film?” (What is this? Are they filming a movie?) a man asked as he looked up.

“Non, je ne pense pas. C’est… trop réel.” (No, I don’t think so. It’s… too real.) a woman replied, her eyes wide with amazement.

In Lagos, Vendors and shoppers froze, their attention drawn to the sky.

“Wetin dey hapun ya?” (What’s happening here?) a vendor asked.

“Na wah o! Dis one pass me!” (This is beyond me!) another exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief.

In Rio, the iconic Christ the Redeemer statue seemed to pale in comparison.

The beachgoers stopped mid-laughter, their joy replaced with a cold, creeping fear.

“O que está acontecendo? Isso não é normal…” (What’s happening? This isn’t normal…) a man murmured, his hand shielding his eyes from the strange light.

“Eu nunca vi nada assim antes…” (I’ve never seen anything like this before…) a woman replied, her voice trembling.

As the screen appeared over every major city and town across the globe, the reaction was the same—fear, confusion, disbelief.

People of every language, every culture, and every background were united in their shock.

But the shock truly set in when the screen, now visible to every human being on the planet, began to display a message in a language that was understood universally, as if it were speaking directly into their minds:

[Your champion has been chosen.]

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, yet incomprehensible to the masses.

What did it mean? Who was the champion? And what was this event that had suddenly linked every corner of the world?

[The impending threat has been halted.]

The message continued, leaving people across the globe reeling with questions.

What threat? Halted by whom? And why had they not known about it until now?

In London, a young woman turned to her companion, her voice barely above a whisper. “Is this some kind of warning? Are we in danger?”

“I don’t know.” her companion replied, his eyes glued to the sky. “But whatever it is… it’s big.”

[Humanity’s fate hinges on unlocking the Gates of Obsidia.]

The final message sent a chill through the hearts of everyone who saw it.

Humanity's Fate? Gates of Obsidia? The cryptic nature of the message left the world in a state of collective fear, uncertainty, and a desperate need for answers.

In the White House, the President of the United States stood in the Oval Office, staring at the holographic screen through the windows.

His face was pale, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to process what he was seeing.

An aide rushed into the room, breathless. “Mr. President… this is happening all over the world! What do we do?”

The President turned away from the window, his expression hardening as he looked at his aide. “We prepare for the worst. Whatever this is, we need to be ready for it.”

Suddenly, the message on the holographic screen shifted, the cryptic words shrinking and fading away, replaced by a live broadcast that sent shockwaves through the world.

A figure appeared on the screen, slim and malnourished, standing in the middle of what looked like a crowded and busy environment.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The image was disturbingly clear, as though a camera had been placed right next to the man, capturing every detail with precision.

His clothes were ragged and torn, his face streaked with dirt and sweat. He looked disoriented, his eyes barely open, filled with a desperate and confused look.

The crowd around him seemed to be moving with purpose, but this boy—he was lost, struggling to understand his situation.

As the world watched in stunned silence, out of nowhere, another man appeared behind him, shoving the weakened individual forward with a rough push.

"What is this idiot doing now, get a move on!" the man behind him snarled, his voice dripping with disdain as he berated the confused figure.

Gasps and murmurs spread across the globe as people reacted to the scene unfolding before them.

“What the hell is going on? Who is that guy?” a man in his living room muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

“That poor soul… he looks like he’s as confused as we are.” another voice chimed in with empathy from a crowded café.

“That guy who pushed him, what a jerk! Doesn’t he see the state that boy is in?” a woman shouted angrily, her indignation shared by those around her.

“Hey, maybe they’re all in the same situation. It doesn’t look like a place where patience is the first priority.” another viewer commented, trying to make sense of the harsh treatment.

The reactions were as varied as the people watching.

Some were angered by the mistreatment, others curious, and some even indifferent, assuming it was part of whatever scenario they were witnessing.

But all of them were united in their confusion and concern. Who was this boy? Why was he in such a state? And what kind of place was he in?

The broadcast continued. A person dressed in a neatly tailored uniform stepped into view and spoke with a clipped, authoritative tone. "Okay, document filled. You can proceed. Next!"

The boy, not realizing that he was next in line, stayed in place, holding up the line behind him.

"I said next! Don't make me wait! What’s your name!?" the man barked, his face contorting with a mix of sternness and disgust.

His impatient tone snapped the boy back to the immediate need to advance and address him.

At that moment, the viewers could see the man trying to communicate with the boy, but the boy just stood there, staring blankly.

"Oi! I asked you for your name!" The harsh voice of the man jolted the boy back to reality.

"Leon. My name is Leon," the boy responded, his voice shaky and unsure.

"L-E-O-N," the man muttered as he scribbled onto a parchment in characters the viewers didn’t recognize.

"Surname?" he inquired next.

"Umm..." Leon hesitated, unsure of how to answer.

"Aye, old habits die hard. You street kids usually don’t have one. Let’s move on," the man said, waving away the need for a surname with a flick of his hand.

Back on Earth, the reactions were immediate..

"Leon? Is that his name?" someone commented.

"What does he mean, street kids? What kind of place are they running over there?" a woman asked, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Whatever this place is, it’s not somewhere I’d want to be." someone else remarked

The broadcast had captured the world's attention, and everyone was trying to piece together the puzzle of what was happening.

Leon's name was now known to millions, but the context of his situation remained a mystery.

The broadcast continued as the man in the neatly tailored uniform pressed on with his questions.

The people watching from Earth couldn’t help but react, the reality of the situation hitting them hard.

"Seventeen? He’s just a kid!" someone exclaimed, their voice filled with disbelief.

"No family, no possessions... what kind of life has this boy had?"

"And now he’s being forced to sign some ridiculous contract? This is messed up!"

"100 credits a month? Is that a lot?" another viewer added.

As the broadcast went on, viewers around the globe began to react.

Younger generations, who had grown up with video games, recognized term mentioned by the clerk, “Dungeon”.

For them, the scene was eerily reminiscent of the fantasy games they had played.

But for the older generations, the word "dungeon" sparked a different reaction.

They associated it with prisons, with dark, confined spaces where people were sent to suffer.

“Dungeon? Are they bringing him to prison?” an elderly man muttered, his brow furrowed in confusion as he watched the scene unfold.

In contrast, a group of teenagers huddled around, their faces alight excitement “Wait? Is he inside a role-playing game?” one of them whispered.

As the broadcast continued, online forums and social media platforms exploded with activity.

Discussions, speculations, and theories flooded every corner of the internet.

People were trying to make sense of what they were witnessing, sharing their thoughts in real-time.

“Is this some kind of twisted game? Are they seriously making him sign his life away?” one user posted on a popular forum, the replies filling up almost instantly with agreements and further questions.

“Did anyone else notice how that guy didn’t even have a surname? What kind of world is this?” another user commented, sparking a thread of discussions about the possible setting and its implications.

But it wasn’t until Leon entered a tent, the inside far more spacious than its modest exterior, that a particular online speculation began to surface as the most likely explanation.

The interior was lined with a substantial number of guards, all arranged in meticulous order, their presence adding to the tension.

At the center of the tent was a massive white orb, glowing with an ethereal light.

“Whoa, look at that thing! It’s beautiful… Can you buy something like that?” someone asked, their eyes glued to the screen.

“What’s it supposed to do?” another person wondered aloud, their curiosity piqued by the mysterious object.

Beside the orb stood two figures: one seated at a table cluttered with parchments, holding a plume pen, while the other stood silently beside him, observing everything with a sharp gaze.

"What are you standing still for? We don't have all day. Come here, touch the orb, and get it over with." the man seated at the table called out to Leon, his pen poised and ready.

"Now place your hand on top of it," the seated man instructed, his tone impatient.

"When you do, don't be alarmed by the emerging light. It's simply an indicator that you are acquiring a skill."

At that moment, the term "skill" sent a ripple of recognition through the millions of viewers who had grown up playing video games.

Skills, dungeons—it was all starting to make sense.

Leon wasn’t just in some random place; he was in a game-like world. A real-life RPG.

As Leon hesitated, then placed his hand on the orb, the viewers leaned in closer, their anticipation mounting.

“What skill did he get? Is it something powerful?” one viewer asked, their voice a mix of hope and anxiety.

But then, the broadcast was filled with a cacophony of mocking laughter as the surrounding guards couldn’t contain themselves, their amusement echoing through the tent.

The skill information had materialized inside the glowing orb, clearly displaying its name, details, and visual iconography for all to see.

Back on Earth, the viewers were stunned into silence.

No one dared to laugh. Why? Because at this very moment, they knew that Leon was their designated champion, and if he died, so would they.

The realization that he had received such a horrendous skill sent waves of desperation and fear through their hearts.

“This can’t be real…” one viewer muttered, their voice shaking.

“Is that really his skill? We’re doomed…” another whispered, the weight of the situation sinking in.

Desperation gripped the hearts of those watching.

Their fate was tied to a boy with a worthless skill.