The soft hum of the old fan was Aarav's favorite sound, helping him drift into deep sleep. A thin, bright line of sunlight peeked through his curtains, landing right on a textbook he'd forgotten about. He was, to put it simply, very, very good at being lazy. His mouth was a little open, a gentle snore coming from his chest, proof of his main goal in life: doing nothing. If the whole universe fell apart, he probably wouldn't move unless it messed with his Wi-Fi.
Then, it happened.
It wasn't a noise. It wasn't a shake. It was a feeling. A cold, metallic voice, with no emotion at all, filled every space on Earth at the same time. It went through walls, through speakers, even right into people's minds. It spoke directly to everyone, a perfect sound no one could escape.
"ATTENTION, PEOPLE OF PLANET EARTH. YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN."
Aarav's eyes slowly opened. Not because of the voice, but because his fan had suddenly stopped humming. The line of sunlight flickered, then vanished as the world outside his window went dark in a strange, unnatural way. He blinked, annoyed. Power cut again? Seriously? Right when he was having the best part of his nap.
"FOR MANY AGES, THE UNIVERSE'S BALANCE HAS GONE WRONG. THINGS ARE BEING USED UP FASTER THAN THEY CAN BE REPLACED. RESOURCES ARE NOT SHARED FAIRLY. TO FIX THIS, THE HEAVENLY GUARDIANS HAVE PICKED HALF OF THE UNIVERSE'S WORLDS TO BE DESTROYED RIGHT AWAY."
Aarav stretched, slowly arching his back, and yawned. "Heavenly what now?" he mumbled to himself, trying to swat a mosquito that wasn't there. He reached for his phone, but the screen was black. Of course. Always when you needed it.
"EARTH IS ONE OF THE CHOSEN WORLDS."
Across the planet, chaos erupted. Screams came from busy city streets. The usual sounds of cars disappeared, replaced by a scared silence. News reporters froze in the middle of talking on their blinking screens. Millions of people stopped, staring up at the sky, which now glowed with a strange, otherworldly light.
"BUT, THERE IS AN EXCEPTION. A MULTIVERSE LORD, WHO IS BORED AND WANTS TO SEE SOMETHING INTERESTING, HAS DECLARED A TEST. ONE CHANCE. YOUR WORLD, AND ALL OTHERS SET TO BE DESTROYED, MAY JOIN THE GAME."
Aarav finally pushed himself up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He walked slowly to his window and looked out. The street below was strangely quiet. His neighbors, usually busy with morning tasks, stood frozen, looking up at the glowing sky. It looked... serious. He frowned. This was cutting into his nap time.
"THE GAME IS CALLED AETHELGARD'S CRUCIBLE. IT WILL HAPPEN ON A SPECIAL WORLD MADE TO TEST HOW WELL DIFFERENT SPECIES CAN WORK TOGETHER, PLAN THINGS, AND SURVIVE. IF YOU WIN AETHELGARD'S CRUCIBLE, YOUR PLANET WILL BE SAVED. IF YOU FAIL, YOUR PLANET WILL BE COMPLETELY AND IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED."
A small shiver ran down Aarav's back, even though he tried his best to ignore it. Destruction? That sounded like a lot of trouble. He really didn't want to deal with planet-ending stuff before lunch. Maybe if he just pulled the blankets over his head, it would all go away. He thought about it for a second, then sighed. His parents were probably panicking. And that meant he'd have to, you know, do something.
"MORE INSTRUCTIONS WILL BE GIVEN TO ALL PEOPLE WHO CAN JOIN. GET READY. AETHELGARD'S CRUCIBLE AWAITS."
The voice disappeared as suddenly as it came. The strange light in the sky faded, though the air still felt oddly charged. For a few seconds, there was total silence. Then, a huge, terrified shout rose from the streets, from every city, every village.
Aarav just stood there, thinking about the huge, scary news that had just been put into his brain. "A game, huh?" he mumbled, running a hand through his messy hair. "And they expect me to play? Nah. I'm good. Someone else can save the world. I'm more of a 'cheer from the side' kind of guy."
He turned from the window, planning to find something to eat. But as he reached for the doorknob, a faint, tiny glow came from his open hand. A strange, detailed symbol pulsed on his skin for a brief moment, then vanished. Aarav stared at it, then at his hand, then back at the empty spot where it had been.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," he sighed, sounding perfectly annoyed. "Don't tell me I can 'join.'"