Present day

Standing atop a tall mountain in a long forgotten temple, Victor Wartell quietly gazes upon an unknown tablet. Crouching down, he dusts the dry grime off the tablet and a bright smile formed after a brief moment of observation.

"What did I tell you Randy? When there's a will there's a way." says Victor. A cold and dark voice whispers back to him. I didn’t say it was impossible. Just very hard. You do know that returning would require a tremendous amount of power from both you and I?

Holding the tablet that seemed to answer his questions, he thrusts his hands forward and creates a black hemispherical crack in the empty space.

Safely depositing the object into pocket dimension, Victor then closed the portal and spoke out again with obvious excitement in his tone. ‘’Well, Randy. It seems that now that there is a way back home, let's get cracking.’’

What do you have in mind then, Victor?

Straightening his clothes and putting on a well rehearsed business smile, Victor coughs into his fist and barely containing his laughter and replies:

‘’I guess we will have to open a branch or two. Now that the end goal is in sight, aggressively expanding our little business sounds like a safe bet.’’

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3 Years ago

In a dusty antique store, Victor cataloged items systematically from ancient looking shelves filled to the brim with items of all shapes and sizes.

Bright sounds resounded every once in a while from the wind chime outside, mixing with howling of wind and the sound of rain.

Overcast sky kept pouring out water like it was the end of days.

I wonder if the rain will continue till the weekend... It truly is hard to keep up a small business at times like these, but it is still better than the constant stress and impossible deadlines.

Victor walked to the window and gazed outside wistfully.

Behind him was a semi large storefront incorporating his living quarters and the place where he had spent the vast majority of his time.

I should finish up and close down afterwards... It just might be a better option to just relax and try to write my timesink novel, since the business ain’t doing well this week.

Sighing with some regret, before looking out at the rainy streets, Victor resumed working.

Finally finishing the cataloging, he put the yellow notepad back to its own place and sat down next to the fireplace.

I should ask Mr. Cooper to bring more ornaments and figurines. People here are pretty gullible when it comes to believing in supernatural shit.

Pulling out a slightly damaged book from the drawer next to the fireplace, Victor took out his pen and stretched his neck accompanied with a resounding cracking sound.

While stretching, he felt that he had forgotten something. Ah right, the tea.

Setting the spacious and massive dining table as his writing comfort zone, he grabbed an old antique lamp from a shelf on his way back from the kitchen.

Brewing a whole pot of tea, he took a cup and skillfully poured the piping hot tea for himself and sat down by the notebook.

Truth be told, Victor was not a very good writer, nor did he have any experience with it, but he always wanted to try out new stuff.

Thoroughly prepared to write, Victor picked up his pen and started to ponder where to take the story from here.

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Why can't those fucking assholes just stop chasing me? Rob slashed furiously with his sword at the people blocking his way.

Taking advantage of the narrow streets, he jumped on the walls of the building and ran along them towards the rooftop.

The chasers yelled the Spider's whereabouts to their comrades, trying to inform them that their target was escaping.

''Don't let the Spider escape! He is carrying something that the boss desperately wants, block the whole neighborhood!'' A man yelled with blazing passion and quickly ordered his comrades to form an inescapable net.

Seeing that the chasing group would not let their prey go, Rob somersaulted.

Dropping right in the middle of the blocking party, he beheaded two of their party and threw poisonous needles at the others.

The chasing party did not even fluster at the sight of their teammates falling, and the leader tried to re-organize their assault quickly. ''Use protection shields and if you are stung by needles, seal the part until the end of the operation! You have all seen the info, the target is adept at poison arts!''

Stolen novel; please report.

Rob frowned at the level of preparation and took out a specially crafted grenade from his overcoat. He pulled the pin and threw it at his pursuers.

Clinking sound emerged from the pin dropping to the ground and Rob hastily escaped towards the rooftop for cover.

Reaching the rooftop, a loud bang was heard and Rob could instantly feel the shockwave and heat spreading through the streets.

Curling his lips up into a smile, he thought the grenade should have done the job.

Escaping from the scene quickly by jumping from rooftop to rooftop, only green purplish vapor could be seen if looked carefully.

Haha those assholes can never catch me with their level of mana and skill. While feeling self satisfied at his performance while escaping, his cocky celebration was cut short by an ominous feeling.

''What?'' Surprised exclamation came out of his mouth unintentionally, followed by sharp pain in his ribs.

A loud shot was heard afterwards, and Rob felt that in his moment of glee he was far too careless.

''Fucking sniper. It is at least 3 kilometers away.'' Rob spat out and quickly thought that he needed to find a place to recover and hide for a moment.

Taking out a small vial full of unknown liquid from his belt, he unscrewed the cork and smeared it in his wound while gritting his teeth.

Knowing that rooftops were too dangerous, he went back to the alleyways and began to search for suitable places for rest. After a short while of running, Rob found himself somehow attracted to the only shop that still had lights on.

This will have to make do for now. After a short break to catch my breath and recover, I can continue to run away confidently.

Walking up slowly to the door, Rob fixed his clothes to avoid suspicion.

Glancing at the old wooden sign 'Open' he placed his hand on the doorknob and pulled it downwards with a somewhat shaky grip.

The old bronze doorbell rang lightly and muddy water dripped on the store floor carried by the wind.

Taking a look around him, Rob saw items from every corner of the planet: Some used for decoration, some for practical use and some were completely useless.

Who in the world would think an antique store works in today's world? If people need antiques they can just buy them from the internet or auctions. This place is perfect for hiding since no-one would come…

Hearing a voice coming from his left side, he was startled. What? I should have sensed that someone was approaching me…Strange.

''Welcome to the -Ages past antique store- How may I help you Sir.'' An unassuming and impassive voice resounded in Rob’s ears.

''Ah yes hello, I am just looking around.'' Rob replied politely to which the store owner nodded his head and went back to writing something in a black book.

Maybe I am thinking too much, the adrenaline must have gone to my head and the wound has dulled the rest of my senses.

Turning his attention around the store, Rob keenly searched for possible cauterizing tools until he looked upon the item in front of the owner.

A black book in the shop owner's hands: It somehow looked like it was absorbing the light near it.

I am getting goosebumps? What kind of book is that and where can I get one? After gawking at the sight for a while, he snapped out of it.

Rob slowly walked around the store like a normal customer would while sneaking a look outside every now and then from the windows for possible pursuers.

While making his way around the store Rob looked at the items displayed with clear contempt, until he heard footsteps from the shop owner closing into his position.

''This beautiful item here would look quite fitting on you. It would pair up well with your overcoat business look.'' The store owner took an elegant walking stick from the shelf and held it in his hands as if urging him to try it.

Rob could not understand why the shop owner would want him to try a walking stick.

He was in his late 30's and was in perfect condition besides the wound.

Cursing the shop owner in his head, Rob was thinking that the owner was purposefully trying to humiliate him. Him? The person listed in the top 10 for strongest masters of the city.

''Fine, I will humor you.'' Picking up the walking stick from the owner, he felt like an endless abyss was trying to devour him.

Immediately trying to release the walking stick from his right hand, Rob helplessly found that he could not.

Only curses and profanity went through his mind along the lines of: Fuck fuck fuck fuck! It was a trap all along, he was one of them.

Desperately trying to get a grip on his consciousness, he opened and closed his mouth slightly before his eyes dazed.

Feeling like his soul was detached from the body, he could practically sense himself sinking into an eternal abyss of darkness.

Finally stabilizing his senses in the abyss, he was looking at his own spirit body: The walking stick was still in his hand.

Flickering with dark light, the stick started to resemble an ornate skull-tipped staff. The eye sockets in the skull started to flicker greenish light, transmitting information directly to Rob's soul.

Feeling like his soul was torn apart, Rob tried to scream in anguish, but nothing came out.

After a hellish few hours of torment, he snapped out of it only to see the shopkeeper smiling slightly at him.

''Well then customer, I knew you would like it. This trusty walking aid would cost only very little for a fine gentleman like you. I can give you a discount for it commemorating your first time here.''

Still in daze, Rob took a look at his wrist watch. In a state panic, all that went through Rob's mind was: What the fuck happened?

After recollecting himself, he thought back to what felt like an eternity, which seemed to be only 30 seconds or so. Questioning his sanity and skills, he felt lost.

How is this even possible? Something inexplicable had happened to him, and without being aware of how and why, scared the living shit out of him.

He reminded himself that it can't be a dream, since there was new information engraved and injected into his very soul.

New and strange theories were popping into his head about changing the mana itself into poison and much more.

Ecstatic from the knowledge from beyond, he hurriedly changed his opinion of the store owner.

The cogs in Rob's brain went into overdrive: Can I even refuse his gift at this point? I guess that would be ill advised…

Rob would have to re-evaluate the situation properly, since no regular Joe would be able to possess items of this caliber. Refusal was no longer a valid option.

After a brief evaluation of the situation he concluded that it would be best to just go along with the flow, no matter what comes next.