My name is Patrick Lyons, and just 24 hours ago, I was a free man. I was just a generic twenty year old college student that you wouldn't notice walking across campus. I was in general studies for the second year running, with no real plans on finalizing my major; I'm sure you know the type. Standing 5'11" when I wasn't slouching, I wasn't tall, but wasn't quite short either. Naturally bulky, the few friends I had managed to connect with mentioned that I was what a tall dwarf would look like. Which is why I tended to play a dwarf in the VRMMO scene, even though the height difference threw me off.

Unfortunately, VRMMO's were what got me into this mess. I ran with a PvP clan called the War Priests, a bunch of guys and girls that I've been playing with for a little over four years now. The clan itself is relatively small, but we've made waves in several games, the most recent being Agean Online. Agean was our crowning achievement. Not only did our clan break into the top fifty worldwide, two of our members, myself included managed to break into the top 100 in the world. Nyx made it to 87, and I made it all the way to rank 42. The War Priests were well known in the big raids for showing up at the worst times and creating the best results. Our lowest ranked player was sitting at 891st in the world, and the simple reason for it is that we were all complete nerds.

That was then though, and this is now. It's odd how much 24 hours can change your life. Instead of laying back in my dive pod, I'm sitting behind a table in an interview room, staring at what I can only assume is a one way mirror. I can hear the analog clock ticking overhead, slowly and steadily driving me insane. To make a long story short, I was kidnapped on my way home from classes. Tranquilizer to the neck, dragged into an unmarked van, all to wake up in this very room almost twenty hours ago now. I was told that I was being held because of my game skills, but when I freaked out, they hit me with another tranquilizer and once I woke up, they let me stew, only letting me out once to go to a bathroom that was maybe thirty feet down the hall from the interrogation room.

Glaring at the insufferable clock, I flinched slightly at the door opening, taken by surprise. In walked a woman in a neat suit, her brown hair in a sensible ponytail, and a distinct frown present on her face. She was followed by a massive man with more muscles than his suit should have tried to accommodate. The guy had a square jaw and a buzz cut. He looked like he lived in a gym, but the slate grey eyes hidden under his brow held a profound intelligence that put me on edge. "Mr. Lyons, I hope you're ready to listen now, we've wasted more than enough time trying to get you to calm down." My eyes snapped back to the frowning woman, but before I could reply, she continued, barreling over my rising indignation. "I want you to hold all of your questions for after I'm finished talking. This is a matter of national security and I don't have time for your whining."

I wanted to interrupt as soon as she said national security, but my protests were overridden once more. "America needs your help. In all actuality, the world needs your help, but I'm simplifying this for you. Our planet is facing a threat, and we need people like you. Gamers." That final word was said with a vague trace of distaste, and the man standing behind and to her right gave a soft chuckle, almost a snort, his eyes hard and drilling right into me, more penetrating than the cold of the table. "I can't offer you the specifics just yet, but you'll get them as soon as it becomes relevant. Congratulations, you've been drafted."

The woman looked at me expectantly, her deep blue eyes glaring over a pair of thin wire rimmed glasses. For a brief moment I couldn't find my voice, it felt almost like I was drowning, but I finally managed to splutter out "Drafted?! What do you mean I've been drafted?!"

The man chuckled again as the woman let out a sigh. "Exactly what it sounds like Mr. Lyons. Your government needs you, and you signed up for the draft. You've been chosen for your skill as a gamer, and that's all you need to know right now. My name is Ms. Erling and this man right here is Mark Gavre. You'll be be getting to know him very well." She said, using her hand to gesture at the behemoth to her right, ignoring the small smirk and glint in the man's eyes. This was not good.

As she spoke, the mortal fear began to slowly drain out of me, leaving behind utter dread and a fair amount of anger. I was being drafted? They wanted me to be a soldier? Had they even seen me run? I may look big, but it's only about half muscle, and I'm about as clumsy as a newborn cat. On top of that, they literally kidnapped me not even two days ago. "What the hell do you mean though! I'm pretty sure a draft doesn't involve kidnapping people!"

The man, Mark Gavre scowled and stepped forward, a voice like gravel coming out as he said, "Were you not listening, you little shit? This is a matter of national security. You think you should've been warned? You think we should have held your hand during what I can confidently say is the biggest threat to our way of life the world has ever known? We are scrambling to collect as many wastes of space like you as we can before it's too late. It is to my everlasting regret that I have to be the one to whip you into shape, because I have never seen a less promising recruit." With that, he stepped back and nodded to the woman while I sat there in shock, wishing I could just fade into nonexistence. Not even my parents had ever been that disappointed in me before, and even though I didn't know the guy, it honestly hurt. "Sorry ma'am."

Ms. Erling frowned again, but replied "No matter, I suspect that may have shut him up for the time being. Take him to the others."

"Yes ma'am." Mark walked around the table and grabbed me by the arm, directing my still speechless self out the door. We walked through a veritable labyrinth of hallways in silence, his hand still firmly gripping my arm. A few minutes passed before I felt brave enough to speak up. "Are things really that bad?" Mark spared a brief glance at me, barely restrained hostility in his eyes. "Worse." With that single word, we lapsed into uncomfortable silence again, finally turning into an auditorium that reminded me of a lecture hall a few minutes later. The auditorium was absolutely packed full of teens and a few adults my age or older. I even thought I saw one woman that may have been in her early to mid forties. Mark directed me to a seat, a small tray with food and some water on the desk in front of it. It was a very dry sandwich with what I can only assume was bargain brand bologna and a small bag of chips, but it was good enough to fill my empty stomach.

A few more people began to file in slowly, mostly male but a few female, which confused me, because women weren't legally required to sign up for the draft. The pit in my stomach was getting deeper as more and more filled in. This definitely wasn't good. Looking around, I saw that most of the assembled crowd was muttering back and forth to each other. It was distracting enough that I almost missed the kid next to me trying to get my attention. Doing a double take I asked him what he said and he repeated himself. "What's your tag?"

I did another brief double take before I caught his meaning. "You mean my gamer tag?" His brown eyes lit up, and his shoulder length dark hair fell into his face as he nodded quickly. He was vaguely Indian, with an excitable smile that completely threw off the seriousness of the past day. He was thin, but didn't at all fit the nerdy stereotype. If anything, he looked more like a metalhead. Long hair, band shirt, ears pierced several times, and a leather wristband with an odd pattern burned into it. "Oh, uh... I've had a few, but in Agean, I was running as Rider."

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The moment I mentioned my name, his face froze, before cracking into an even wider grin. "You did a fantastic job in the raid on Isla Sondi. Absolutely wrecked our Wind Knights. GanFishing at your service." He gave me an exaggerated bow, letting out a boisterous laugh that drew stares when my face descended into shock. GanFishing was ranked 11th in the world and was the leader of one of the biggest clans in VRMMO's in general. Thunderstruck was a complete monster of a clan. Thousands of players, with hundreds at higher levels, almost all of them active in raiding. He sat back up with a smile on his face once more, slouching into his seat. "You can just call me Ganta though. Never thought I'd meet the War Priest himself."

I let out a short laugh and then shook my head. "Nah, the War Priest is Nova. He's the leader." To my surprise though, Ganta just shook his head. "Nova might have been your leader, but he wasn't ranked anywhere near the best you guys had. Besides, Kympi always told me that you priests considered the highest ranking to be the leader in raids anyway."

I shrugged and nodded in agreement. "We do, but still. I didn't realize you knew Kympi." Before we could continue our conversation, the auditorium doors opened up once more, Mark Gavre walking through with two equally dangerous looking men just behind him. He stalked up to the podium, glaring out at the crowd until the muttering fell to a hushed silence.

"Listen up, I'm only saying this once. You are now the 250 members of Operation Clear Skies, Sierra Company. You are 250 of thousands of people in the country, not even counting those worldwide who will be trained to do what you do best. I'm the poor unfortunate soul who has to get your bodies in shape so you can do whatever it is you do better than you could have before. You will be participating in a game very similar to those you have played before, but this time you will be relying on your own body." That last comment sent the entire auditorium into another spree of muttering before Mark could settle things down once more. "You will not be allowed to leave, and you must participate. I do not say that the entire world is counting on you lightly. To make a long story short, extraterrestrial life exists. There is a war going on under the pretext of a game, using a system similar to those you're familiar with. Our galaxy has been fighting for well over two hundred years, and it's our turn to help. It's been made abundantly clear that if we don't send warriors, our entire planet will suffer. With that in mind, I'm going to need the absolute best out of each and every one of you. I won't train anything other than physical fitness, as I'm sure you all know much better than I do about the rest." With that last statement, a brief moment passed with visible disgust on Mark's face. After a moment of awkward silence, he continued "While I'd love to send you back home and do this myself with trained individuals, I've been overruled. There are several busses outside. They'll be taking us to a remote boot camp in Arizona. Prepare for hell, ladies and gentlemen."

Seemingly done talking, he stormed out of the room, leaving the two men that had been standing behind him to herd everyone to a rear door, guiding us into a parking bay, dull black buses waiting. I'd like to say it was a short trip, but I was sitting next to an excitable Ganta and we live in Oregon. It was a miserable ride. The next few weeks were far, far worse however. We were up for eighteen hours a day most days, being drilled endlessly by Drill Sergeant Gavre and his band of sadistic brothers. Hiking, obstacle courses, conditioning, more conditioning. Gavre seemed to take perverse pleasure in whipping us into shape. The one thing I was thankful for was the fact that we were strictly kept from becoming a legitimate military unit. Apparently some administrator somewhere thought that it would affect our gaming ability or morale to be held to actual military standards. We were more or less allowed to find our friends from before and link up with them. So far, I had found Nyx, Kympi, Ganta, Sturm, SunCaller, and Jade. All of us were War Priests except for Ganta, but none of us complained. He couldn't find a single one of his clan members in the Sierra boot camp, and we didn't know where any other companies were kept. So in our eyes, he was an honorary Priest, and it wasn't just the fact that he had stomped all of us in game at some point or another. He was legitimately a fun guy to be around, tall and wiry, shoulder length black hair. The guy was an absolute metalhead with the attitude of a saint. A foul mouthed saint with a sense of humor, but a saint nonetheless.

Nyx was an extremely short Asian girl with black hair down to her waist and a temper shorter than she was. At 4'10", she was easily the smallest person in camp. She had a severe attitude, but if you could get past the caustic treatment, she was actually a deeply caring person with a good heart. It was just hidden behind miles of razor wire and claymores. Kympi was a 6'4" white guy with glasses and short blonde hair. His nose had clearly been broken before. He was a pretty quiet guy for being part of the Priests. All the others except Jade were loud and obnoxious. Jade was a mixed girl that you would never guess played games. She was well spoken and intelligent, more than slightly attractive, with a mildly pretentious attitude. I suppose having rich parents will do that though.

I never did manage to find Nova, and seeing as it was our last day, I wasn't going to get that chance. We had come a long way in the short months we had been training. Almost all the fat had left our bones, replaced by hard muscle. Flexibility had gone up all across the board after some professional rogues yelled at Gave about needing more well rounded training. I honestly think they regretted that outburst though. It was the last day and they were still doing extra miles on our daily jog. Apparently today we're being picked up. We haven't been told anything more than that, only that we need to muster in front of the mess hall after out morning calisthenics. The entire company has gotten quiet these past two days. Even Ganta is relatively silent, and he never shuts up. I tried briefly to pick up everyone’s spirits, but it didn't quite work. Everyone is stuck in their thoughts today.

As we gradually organized ourselves into a loose mob in front of our mess hall, Gavre walked to the front of our mob and shouted "Fall in!" Before taking off at a light jog across our camp. I could hear Sturm swearing under his breath and just chuckled to myself. Sturm had been one of the poor rogues who had been doing extra miles for over a month now. Gavre led us to the open ground in front of the headquarters, but stopped us just before the clearing, looking up at the sky briefly then gazed at his watch. He turned around, catching the eyes of a few of us before he began speaking. "Alright listen up!" His eyebrows knit tightly together, a scowl forming on his face. "When you first got here, I didn't like a single one of you. You were a bunch if spoiled, entitled pricks who had no idea what it meant to be a functional member of society. Guess what? I still don't like you. I think you're still a bunch of pricks, and I think it's a horrible mistake that we're sending you. I think you're all going to get killed, and we'll be next. With that said, I am proud of a few of you. There's a few out there who actually gave their all and as pitiful as it was, it showed me you're taking this seriously. I don't like any of you, but those few of you that I didn't have to drag out of bed every morning, thank you for not completely crushing my hope for humanity." His eyes flickered over a few faces, and surprisingly mine was included. "Your ride will be here soon, so try not to embarrass us. You might meet up with some other humans, you might not. It all depends on information we don't have yet." Glancing at his watch again, the massive drill sergeant looked at the sky and muttered "Good luck."

Not even a minute later, a massive boulder crashed into the dirt of the clearing, spraying soil, rock and dust everywhere. A cloud of dust blocking the boulder from sight.