The night was peaceful, a gift of the semi suburban area near a busy city where Aiden was renting. He sat alone on the curb like when he was younger, feeling the calm of being one of few awake. Breathing in cold air, he let the stress roll off as suppressed thoughts and reactions passed swiftly through his mind.  

When stillness finally settled within, it was time to stand and walk through the side gate. The entrance to the guest house was private, allowing for the home owners and their family not to be bothered by his varying sleep schedule. Pulling out a smart phone, there were still no messages. No calls. A few e-mails automatically sent by servers, the new junk mail. This used to be a source of some grief, but these days it meant nobody needed anything done. That was now comforting if anything. The bed called, but after lying down sleep still seemed distant. Suddenly the ceiling was captivating. The flat dull rectangle was probably just covered drywall, with a domed light. A visualization started to unfold of all the variations on the standard techniques, creating a whole new building than the one he was in. The bulb within the dome popped loudly drawing his focus to the overhead light. A glance at the switch showed the power was not even on to the socket.

Curiosity pulled Aiden to his feet, opening the panel to the breakers by the corner. None of them were tripped. Everything plugged in now was looked over. The TV wouldn’t turn on, gaming computer fried, not even the microwave responded. Pulling out his phone, he was slightly relieved to see the light still worked. The moment was stolen within a flash as darkness flooded in anyway. The floor felt softer than usual, and it was the last observation that entered his mind as consciousness slipped away.

A fluid like black comfort held him at what he felt was a decent height, looking down onto a mirror. The angles were all wrong though.

This is no mirror. That IS me. 

He looked at his body standing without out him. A funny smile that was not his own spread on the uncharacteristically hopeful features.

Name: ?

Words hung in the air above. 

My name?

He thought watching it being spelled out.

Wait, delete. No. My name is Aiden, he tried saying without a mouth.

Thankfully the text deleted backwards letter by letter being replaced with his first name.

Confirm? Yes, confirm.

The words disappeared, replaced with another prompt.

Fighter, Thief, Mage, or Priest?

Recognizing basic classes from games, he had trouble deciding. Aiden was more of a shooter fan. The dream’s outlandish nature captured his attention. It was very lucid, especially considering he rarely dreamed at all these days. A timer appeared above the question. It seemed he had twenty seconds left to decide, but he instead decided that he was done participating. It was time to wake up. The word Priest emboldened slightly as the rest faded. A character stat and skills list appeared, and it seemed to make perfect sense immediately. It was somehow more of a memory than new information. A wind rushed and twisted, pulling him down back toward his own form, and the world flickered back on.

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His eyes felt like they were covered in sand as he struggled to his feet.  He looked around and couldn’t help but notice a box that floated with his eye movement. His attention caused the box to open. A dress appeared on his body, and a stick in his hand. Small boxes of text appeared in the edge of his mind. Tattered Robes and Wooden Mace followed by some details. Aiden looked at the stick in his hand. Not a mace, he thought to himself. In response the second box appeared in his mind again. Wooden Mace, damage 1-5, one handed, melee. A sigh of frustration filled the room, just before the screaming started. Voices, and growls, glass breaking, followed by a small explosion. Adrenaline flooded in, and he was on the sidewalk before processing anything else. His left hand held up the long robes, and his right held the stick.

The neighbor was being pulled from their front door by a disfigured animal that was unfamiliar. Two legs, two arms, a pale grey mixed with green splotches, and a loyal dog latched onto a calf. Catching a glance of the entire street being invaded, Aiden lunged towards the neighbors front yard. Ten feet from the creature he stopped and let out a loud sound like someone grabbing the attention of a child about to touch a hot stove. Both dog and creature froze and looked at him, and he froze as well briefly. His hand reacted first, swinging the stick over and over at the creatures head hitting arms trying to block as much as the intended target. The advantage of surprise paid off, and he was notified in the same place as the box had appeared within. Weak Goblin had been defeated. A small number of experience followed. The neighbor grabbed their dog and bolted towards basement stairs. 

Aiden turned to see more Goblins wreaking havoc, and as he focused on the nearest he remembered the dream. Skills: Cure, Cleanse, Smite. 

Almost as soon as he wondered how he could smite his new enemy, a bright flash appeared inside the goblin. He felt drained as a pool within his very core lost a little power. More than he would have liked. A quick estimate seemed to suggest that he only had a few of those in him. The text appeared again, but he ignored the notification of the Goblin's defeat. Many enemies were already too far gone, dragging people he barely knew yet into the distance. Everyone had odd clothes on, so hopefully these also came with skills. The only other person left on the street was a woman holding what looked like a wooden sign post that people used to stick in the yard with a message on a board. Three Goblins littered her yard, and one was lying halfway in a broken window. They exchanged glances, and being satisfied that the worst was over Aiden walked towards her exhausted. Before he got halfway there she slumped down, sprawled on the lawn.