The street went black in the blink of an eye.
One second Hana and I were walking home, the city quiet around us. The next, a blinding flash swallowed everything. The ground vanished. My stomach lurched and cold air cut through me like a knife.
When the light cleared, I was standing on smooth stone.
Crowds. A deafening roar of cheers slammed into me from every direction. My head spun. Bright banners of silver and deep blue draped the walls of a massive hall that stretched higher than any building I'd ever seen. The smell of incense and metal filled my nose.
The first thing that hit me was the sound cheering, ringing like church bells in a storm. Then the light: blinding, too bright to be real.
I squinted and found myself kneeling on a wide stone platform. Marble pillars soared around me, every surface gleaming like polished ice. People in robes and armor crowded the edges, their voices a single deafening roar. For a second I thought I'd fallen into the middle of some medieval festival or a nightmare.
"Hana?"
My voice cracked. She lay beside me, motionless, dark hair spilling across the glowing floor like spilled ink.
"Hana! Hey, wake up." I grabbed her shoulder and shook, harder than I meant. No response. My heart stuttered.
The cheering dulled to a low hum as I bent over her. She was breathing, slow and steady but limp, she fainted!
Footsteps approached. Sharp, measured. I twisted toward the sound.
A man stepped from the a room behind me. Early thirties, maybe, though something about him felt off silver-ash hair, eyes that caught the torchlight like cold steel. A long robe of soft gray trimmed in intricate silver patterns brushed the floor as he walked. In one hand he held a staff crowned with a black crystal, dark as obsidian but faintly pulsing, like a slow heartbeat. Him and everyone else looked like they've been participating in a cosplay contest or at least i hope that's what this is.
"She is unharmed," he said, voice calm and deliberate. "The strain of the summoning can overwhelm the body. She will wake soon."
Summoning? The word barely made sense.I tightened my hold on Hana and edged back, searching for any exit. Nothing but stone, pillars, and hundreds of strangers staring at us like we were some kind of spectacle.
The man stopped a few feet away and inclined his head, almost politely."I am Mogamon," he said. "Mage of the Vey Empire, loyal subject of His Majesty Emperor Dorian Reil Vey, and head of the Imperial Magic Tower."
His title rolled off his tongue like a well-rehearsed speech.I could only stare, my thoughts spinning: Empire? Emperor? Magic Tower? This had to be some elaborate prank, a dream, something.
But Hana was still out cold, warm and heavy in my arms, and the crystal at the tip of his staff throbbed like a dark star.
I swallowed hard, throat dry. "Where… where am I?"
Mogamon's faint smile didn't reach his eyes. "You stand in the Grand Hall of the Imperial Palace, hero. You and your companion have crossed the boundary between worlds."
The crowd roared again, the sound slamming into me like a wave. My heart pounded, the words barely registering.
Hero?
"Hero?" The word scraped out of my throat before I even knew I'd spoken.
I tightened my grip on Hana, still unconscious, and took a half-step back. "What… what does that even mean?"
Mogamon regarded me with an almost grandfatherly patience. "It is the name we give those summoned from beyond our world. You are that hero."
Summoned. Hero. None of it made sense. "Beyond your world?" I muttered. "This is—this is crazy. I must be dreaming."
"You believe this to be a dream," he said quietly. "Many who came before you thought the same."
I blinked. "Before me?"
"Yes." He rested a hand on the black crystal of his staff. "You are not the first. Across the centuries, the Vey Empire has called upon others from a distant realm. They called it… Earth."
The name landed like a punch. "You—wait. WHAT?"
"We learned it from those who arrived before you," Mogamon said, voice even. "Their accounts are carefully kept in our archives. They, too, spoke of a blue planet, of cities of steel and glass. Your home."
My breath caught. He wasn't guessing. He knew.
"That's impossible, if you're an actor I'm saying you gotta stop man!" I said, though it sounded hollow even to me.
Mogamon's eyes softened. "Let me show you why it is not and I am sorry to disappoint you but i am not an actor."
He murmured a phrase that rolled like water over stones. The black crystal flared. Two glowing circles bloomed in the air one a deep, cool blue, the other a brilliant orange runes shifting along their edges like living script.
From the blue circle a ribbon of water spiraled upward. From the orange, a flame uncoiled, twisting around the water until fire and liquid danced together in a slow, impossible helix.
Heat brushed my cheek; cool mist dotted my skin. No tricks. No wires.
A nervous chuckle slipped out of me before I could stop it. "Okay… that's—" I swayed slightly, light-headed. "That's actually… insane."
I tightened my grip on Hana to steady myself, half afraid I might keel over.
The impossible spectacle spun lazily above us, the water and fire still circling each other like it was the most natural thing in the world.
'Mogamon' lowered his staff, the glowing circles fading to nothing. "Now you see. This is Solmir, and this is magic."
I had no words only the thunder of my heartbeat and the terrifying certainty that I was very, very awake.
I slapped myself hard. A sharp sting flared across my cheek. Not a dream. Not even close.
Magic. Hero. The words spun through my head like someone had pasted them in neon across the inside of my skull. This can't be real!
But the circles of fire and water had already vanished into the air. I'd felt their heat, the mist on my skin.
My heart pounded so loud it drowned out the cheering crowd. I could almost hear it echo inside my chest, a frantic drum. Far from my cramped apartment. Far from the gray office walls and the smell of burnt coffee. Far from Earth itself.
I forced a breath and looked down at Hana, still limp against my arm. Her hair brushed my sleeve, warm and real. "What about her?" My voice cracked. "Why is she here?"
Mogamon inclined his head, silver hair catching the torchlight. "Sometimes the summoning draws a companion," he said. "Someone the hero trusts most. The spell follows the bond of the heart. It seems she is yours."
I stared at him, speechless. Hana my closest companion? We'd only shared late-night walks and quiet laughs after work. I hadn't even known I…A small, nervous chuckle escaped me. "Guess I didn't either."
Mogamon's expression softened. "Before anything else, allow me to apologize."He set the black crystal staff lightly to the platform. "It was abrupt, and for that, we bear the blame. We have torn you from your world without consent. But there is a reason for all of this your arrival, even your name, is written in destiny."
Destiny. The word pressed against my thoughts like a weight, as if some unseen script had been waiting for me all along.
I tightened my grip on Hana and tried to steady the tremor in my breathing. Whatever this was, it wasn't a dream. And there was no waking up.
"Destiny, huh?" I managed, my voice thin. "You sound like… I don't know, a movie trailer. All dramatic and perfectly scripted."
The corner of Mogamon's mouth lifted, not quite a smile. "Perhaps it does. But this is simply the clearest way to speak of such things. I understand why it must sound strange to you."
"Yeah, strange's one word for it." I shook my head. "Feels like you've rehearsed it a hundred times."
"It is simply how I speak," he said, tone calm, almost amused. Then his silver eyes sharpened with sudden curiosity. "But what is a 'movie'? You speak as though it is common, yet I know it not."
I blinked. "Wait you don't know what a movie is?"
He tilted his head slightly, staff tapping against the stone. "No. Yet the word itself… it intrigues me." A faint gleam lit his eyes, a spark of honest interest that cut through the formality. "You must tell me of it, when there is time."
For a moment, despite the roaring crowd and the alien platform under my feet, I almost laughed. Here I was, abducted into some magic empire, and the first thing their grand mage wanted to know about was Hollywood.
A soft groan broke through the roar of the crowd.I spun around just as Hana stirred, her lashes fluttering. She pushed herself up on one elbow, blinking hard at the blinding lights and the wall of strangers encircling us.
"Lucien…?" Her voice cracked. "Where, what's going on?"
Relief hit me first, sharp enough to make my knees weak. "Hana," I breathed, crouching beside her. "I… I wish I could tell you. I'm still trying to figure it out myself."
She sat up fully, eyes darting to the silver-robed mages and armored guards ringing the platform. Their polished helms and emotionless faces only deepened her panic. She inched closer until her shoulder pressed against mine, fingers gripping my sleeve.
The crowd's cheers faded to a low, expectant murmur. All around us the strangers watched in silence robes whispering, armor clinking like we were animals in a cage.
"It's okay," I said, though I wasn't sure it was. My own heart was pounding so hard I could taste it. "I'm here."
Hana swallowed, her gaze sweeping the strange banners and the endless sea of eyes before locking back on me. "This… this isn't a dream, is it?"
I wanted to lie, to tell her we'd wake up any second in the middle of the street where we'd been walking. But the cold stone beneath us said otherwise.
"I don't think so," I admitted, tightening my arm around her as the silver-haired mage stepped forward again, staff gleaming with a faint, unearthly light.
Mogamon crouched a little, his silver-ash hair catching the torchlight. "I know it's hard to believe," he said, voice calm but carrying over the restless crowd. "Given all this—" he gestured to the ring of armored soldiers, the banners heavy with moon symbols "but you don't need to be afraid. Everything will be explained soon enough."
A faint clank of metal cut through the air behind him. I looked up.
A giant of a man was making his way across the platform. Silver plate armor gleamed even in the dim light, a long dark-blue cape trailing behind him. On his chest, a crescent moon emblem shone like polished bone. He moved with a weight that made the stone floor thud under each step. His hair, white and slicked back, framed a lean face and a short, sharp beard. A sword hung at his side, the hilt catching the light like a flash of lightning.
Around us, every knight snapped to a strange salute chins lifted, swords angled to the sky. Whoever he was, he ranked high. I felt Hana stiffen against me.
The man stopped before Mogamon, his gaze cold and flat. "Is everything in order?" The words sounded more like an accusation than a question.
Mogamon met his stare without flinching. "They need a moment. Patience."
The armored man's lip curled. "Patience?" He gave a low, rough laugh. "Your emperor must not be kept waiting because of a magic-wielding rat."
Mogamon's smile thinned. "And you're still a thick-headed ton of steel, Capaneo."
The name hung heavy between them. I could almost feel the sparks of old arguments snapping in the air.
Capaneo turned his eyes on me, measuring. "Skinnier than the last one," he said finally, voice edged with contempt. "Doesn't look like much."
My stomach tightened. I gripped Hana's shoulder a little tighter.
Mogamon's tone stayed light, but there was steel under it. "You know how summoned heroes arrive. Perhaps you'll learn soon enough."
Capaneo only scoffed, the sound sharp against the silence, and swung his cape as he turned away. "Be quick," he barked over his shoulder, not sparing me or Hana another glance as he strode back toward the guards.
I swallowed hard and asked, my voice barely above a whisper, "Wait… if this is another world… how do I… how do I understand you all? Surely you don't speak the same language as me… being worlds apart and all."
Mogamon chuckled, a soft, almost musical sound that felt strangely out of place in the tension of the platform. "Ah, yes, that would be a problem," he said. "But it's all part of the summoning spell."
I frowned. "The summoning spell?"
He nodded. "It's not that you can naturally understand Solmir's language. There are ancient runes woven into the spell runes that carry understanding, slowly adjusting your mind to this world. Not just the language… but customs, some basic knowledge of the world. It's the reason you haven't gone mad the moment you arrived."
I blinked, trying to process it. So… all this the magic, the knights, the emperor, Hana being here it wasn't a dream. It wasn't some hallucination. It was all real. And somehow, impossibly, I was supposed to navigate it.
"And… it works like magic?" I muttered.
Mogamon's smile widened, though his eyes gleamed with a serious undertone. "It is magic, yes. But not the flashy. It's ancient… a thread connecting your mind to Solmir itself."
I reached down and gently helped Hana to her feet, still holding her close as she wobbled slightly. My eyes flicked behind Mogamon, and I froze. The platform opened onto a wide balcony, and beyond it stretched a grand throne room. At the far end, on a raised dais, a figure sat—tall, imposing, and regal. Crowds of people filled the room below, their cheers echoing off the marble walls.
Mogamon's voice pulled me back. "The… tin head was right. We can't keep the Emperor waiting. That would be… impolite," he said, bowing slightly. "I apologize for the abruptness."
I looked down at Hana, silently asking what we should do. Her eyes were wide, still startled, and her voice came out hesitant: "Maybe… maybe we should do as he says. If everything is true… then we shouldn't make the one who stands at the top angry. We're in a foreign country."
I nodded. "Alright," I said, gripping her hand briefly for reassurance. "Then… let's go."
Before stepping forward, I asked Mogamon, my curiosity edging out my fear, "What kind of person is the Emperor? Should we… expect harshness?"
Mogamon's lips curled slightly. "An understanding individual, surprisingly so. He favors heroes. He recognizes their worth… and he expects respect in return."
I swallowed. "And the customs? What should we do?"
Mogamon smiled faintly. "Typically, subjects kneel in his presence. But you… as outsiders, foreign to this land, a bow will suffice. The Emperor is wise; he will understand."
I let out a long breath, my head spinning. The platform felt both impossibly vast and claustrophobic, the cheering crowd distant in my ears. I glanced down at Hana, still trembling beside me, and felt the weight of all this pressing on me like a storm I couldn't escape.
We left the balcony behind, the cheers of the crowd fading as we stepped into the throne room. The space was vast, the ceilings towering high above, with sunlight filtering through ornate window panes. Along the walls were lined portraits stoic faces of rulers from generations long past, their eyes seeming to follow our every move.
Knights in gleaming silver armor stood at rigid attention along the edges of the hall, their presence both beautiful and intimidating. Near the center, people in elaborate, almost medieval garments waited, watching us keenly as we followed Mogamon's lead.
As we approached the far end, the knight Capaneo from earlier gave us a sharp, knowing grin. Beyond him stood another figure a man in the garb of a high religious authority. His silver robe gleamed softly, a silver bead bracelet glinting on his hand, and atop his head was a peculiar, round hat. A crescent moon was emblazoned on his chest, this one a half-moon, symbolizing his office. His eyes were sharp and calculating, taking in every detail.
And between them, enthroned like a force of nature, sat the Emperor. His presence alone demanded attention. Draped in a silver robe that cascaded down the stairs in front of him, he was an imposing figure, entirely silent, his face obscured behind a shimmering silver veil. Everything about him, his posture, his aura radiated authority and a quiet, unsettling power.
Above him, a huge, glowing disk a moon hovered suspended in the air, held delicately in the hands of a silver female figure carved or floating behind him. My stomach twisted.
Then the silver-robed man beside the throne raised his hands. His voice boomed, echoing through the hall. I didn't understand all of the words, but the gravity in them was unmistakable.
"All hail His Majesty, rightful owner of the Vey Empire, Vessel of the Moon Goddess Lunvaria, and protector of the crown and its people of the Vey Empire Emperor Dorian Reil Vey!"
The hall fell silent for a heartbeat before every single person dropped to their knees. My own body moved almost without thought. Hana's fingers dug into my arm. I joined as well, even though the mage had said a bow alone would suffice. My knees scraped against the marble, my heart hammering.
The Emperor raised his hand ever so slightly. A ripple went through the hall. Everyone, including Hana and me, slowly rose to our feet. My legs felt stiff, as if they had forgotten how to stand. The silver-robed man beside the throne spoke again, his voice echoing with authority:
"Raise your heads."
I glanced at Hana; her eyes were wide, and she pressed closer. I swallowed hard and tried to match her gaze forward.
The man continued, his words deliberate and solemn. "I am Pope Asmodea, High Leader of the Church of the Moon, devoted worshipper of the Goddess Lunvaria, and loyal subject of His Majesty, the Emperor."
The hall seemed to inhale with the weight of his words. My chest tightened, every step of the ritual pressing down on me.
He paused, letting the silence stretch. Then, with a warmth that seemed almost perfunctory after the ceremony's weight, he said, "I welcome the Hero and his companion to Noctyra the Capital of the Vey Empire."
The Emperor raised his hand ever so slightly. A ripple went through the hall. Everyone, including Hana and me, slowly rose to our feet. My legs felt stiff, as if they had forgotten how to stand. The silver-robed man beside the throne spoke again, his voice echoing with authority:
"Raise your heads."
I glanced at Hana; her eyes were wide, and she pressed closer. I swallowed hard and tried to match her gaze forward.
The man continued, his words deliberate and solemn. "I am Pope Asmodea, High Leader of the Church of the Moon, devoted worshipper of the Goddess Lunvaria, and loyal subject of His Majesty, the Emperor."
The hall seemed to inhale with the weight of his words. My chest tightened, every step of the ritual pressing down on me.
He paused, letting the silence stretch. Then, with a warmth that seemed almost perfunctory after the ceremony's weight, he said, "I welcome the Hero and his companion to the Capital of the Vey Empire."
The Pope's gaze swept over me and Hana, sharp yet oddly measured. "I hope the mage briefed the Hero and his companion on the state of things."
Mogamon inclined his head slightly. "I have explained where they are and what has occurred so far."
"Good," the Pope said, his voice calm but carrying weight. "First, I must apologize. Pulling you from your world so abruptly… it was necessary, but I understand it has caused confusion, fear, even anger. Know that we did not act without reason."
I swallowed hard, still gripping Hana's hand, still trying to process. The words sounded rehearsed, yet the sincerity or something like it was there.
"Your name," the Pope continued, "was written in destiny long before this moment. The world faces a threat unlike any before. The Vey Empire… humanity itself… needs your help."
I hesitated. "Help… but… can I… go back?"
The Pope's eyes softened for the first time, if only slightly. "You may. Once your task is complete, when the Goddess Lunvaria deems the Empire saved, she will send you back to your world. But first, we ask for your aid."
The weight of it hit me like a cold wave. My life, my routines, my tiny apartment, my mundane job… it all felt impossibly distant now. The reality of the situation clawed at my mind.
Hana whispered beside me, her voice trembling, "We… we have to go back home, Lucien."
I nodded, squeezing her hand. My own heart ached for the familiarity of Earth, for the small life I had fought so hard to build. But there was no denying the pull of what had been set before me.
I drew a shaky breath. "Then… what do I have to do?"
The Pope inclined his head, and for the first time, I felt the weight of the story I had unknowingly stepped into the story where I was no longer just an ordinary man, but a hero summoned into a world on the brink.
The Pope's silver-beaded fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of the throne. "Humanity… is losing a war," he said, his voice echoing through the grand hall. "A force rises from a land far from our reach. A place known as the Forbidden Continent."
My stomach sank. I'd never felt so small, so utterly unprepared.
"They have already taken the Forbidden Continent," the Pope continued, his eyes sweeping across the assembled crowd as if weighing them, us. "Their next target… is the Lumia Continent, where the Vey Empire stands. Our Empire is their first obstacle, the vanguard of mankind against extinction."
I swallowed hard. The words felt surreal, yet heavy, tangible.
"The enemy calls themselves… TheDark," he said. "They are many and they are powerful. We have tried all means to push them back, and failed. Our losses greater than i can even comprehend to you."
I looked at Hana. She hadn't moved. Her voice, when it came, trembled. "You… expect… us… to fight something like that? Here? In a strange land… with strangers? What if we die… what choice do we even have?"
Her words hung in the air, sharp and piercing.
The knight—Capaneo, I remembered stiffened beside us. His eyes narrowed, glaring at her as if he wanted to cut her down with a look. I felt a chill run down my spine.
But before anything could happen, the Pope's voice cut through. "No," he said, shaking his head slowly. "Yes… but not in the way you imagine."
I blinked. "Not fight?" I asked cautiously.
The Pope leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering, carrying weight and inevitability. "You were called here for a different task."
I furrowed my brow. "A different task? What… what is that?"
He straightened again, his voice rising, filling the room with grandeur.
The Pope's eyes scanned the hall, resting briefly on each of us, his silver robes gleaming faintly under the chandeliers. Silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until he finally spoke, his voice steady but heavy with inevitability.
"You… are to find the missing hero."