Eli was in the middle of deciding whether instant noodles counted as a balanced breakfast when the sky broke.
Not exploded. Not cracked open with lightning.
Just… paused.
The steam from the kettle froze mid-air, curling like a sculpture. The birds outside his window stopped flapping, suspended as if someone had forgotten to press play. Even the stupid buzzing of his phone—some notification he hadn't bothered to check—cut off mid-vibration.
Eli blinked.
"Okay," he muttered, spoon still hovering over the cup noodles. "Either I finally snapped, or this is one hell of a visual glitch."
Then the words appeared.
They didn't flash.
They didn't glow dramatically.
They were just there, hovering politely in front of his face like an overconfident tutorial popup.
HERO SELECTION IN PROGRESS
Location: Plains
Candidate: Eli Parker
Status: Confirmed
"…Nope," Eli said immediately. "Absolutely not."
The words didn't care.
Initializing System Interface
The kitchen vanished.
Eli landed flat on his back on something hard, dry, and very definitely not his apartment floor.
"Ow—!" He sucked in a breath and rolled onto his side. "Okay, rude. At least give a countdown."
He pushed himself up and looked around.
Endless grass.
Not the soft, friendly kind from parks or fields near highways. This grass was tall, sharp-edged, swaying in slow waves under a wide open sky that stretched forever. No buildings. No roads. No people.
Just wind.
"Oh," Eli said weakly. "Cool. Love this for me."
A translucent panel slid into view, hovering slightly to his left. It followed his gaze when he turned his head, which was deeply unsettling.
WELCOME, HERO
Environment Assigned: Plains
Weapon Allocation: Pending
Respawn Anchor: Unplaced
System Tip: Panic does not improve survival odds.
"Wow," Eli said. "Thanks. Super comforting."
He stood up, brushing dirt off his jeans. They were still his jeans. Hoodie, sneakers, everything intact. That helped a little.
"Okay," he said, trying to sound calm. "Let's assume this is… I don't know. A prank. Or a dream. Or I finally accepted that suspicious free game invite."
The grass rustled nearby.
Eli froze.
From between the swaying blades, something rose.
It wasn't huge—maybe the size of a large dog—but it was all angles and muscle, its hide patterned in dull brown plates. Six legs unfolded beneath it, each ending in hooked claws. Its head tilted, eyes glinting with a low, animal intelligence.
The panel helpfully updated.
LOCAL THREAT DETECTED
Classification: Plains Stalker
Threat Level: Low
Weapon Allocation: Authorized
A sound like air snapping echoed behind Eli.
He spun around just in time to catch something solid slamming into his hands.
Heavy.
Cold.
Mechanical.
He staggered back a step, staring at what he was holding.
A bow.
Not a wooden hunting bow like the ones his uncle used to show off during holidays. This thing looked like it had been designed by someone who hated curves and loved efficiency. Matte black limbs, compact but powerful. Thin red lines traced along its body, converging near the grip.
A faint red dot projected forward, sweeping slightly as his hands trembled.
TACTICAL COMPOUND BOW — INITIALIZED
Ammunition: Generated
Trajectory Assistance: Active
Eli looked at the creature.
The creature looked at him.
They both hesitated.
"…I've never fired a bow before," Eli told it.
The Plains Stalker screeched and lunged.
"OH COME ON."
Eli jerked the bow up, squeezed his eyes shut, and pulled the string back on pure instinct.
The bow hummed.
Not a twang. A low, precise vibration, like a machine spinning up.
The arrow released itself.
Eli opened his eyes just in time to see the shaft curve slightly in mid-air, adjusting its path with eerie smoothness before punching clean through the creature's head.
The Plains Stalker collapsed mid-leap, skidding to a stop at Eli's feet.
Silence.
Eli stared.
Then he looked down at the bow.
"…I did that?" he whispered.
THREAT NEUTRALIZED
Performance: Acceptable
System Tip: Keep breathing.
Eli bent over, hands on his knees, gasping.
"Okay," he said between breaths. "Okay. That's—okay."
He straightened slowly.
"This is fine. This is just… a new normal. People adapt. People are very adaptable."
The sky rippled.
The grass blurred.
And Eli vanished again.
Across the world—wherever "the world" was now—Marcus didn't get a bow.
He got hit in the face.
"—OW!"
Marcus tumbled backward, landing hard on blackened stone. Heat rolled over him in thick waves, scorching the air in his lungs. He scrambled upright, heart pounding, and immediately regretted it.
Everything was red.
Not blood-red. Fire-red.
Rivers of lava crawled sluggishly between jagged rocks. The ground beneath his boots radiated heat like an open oven. The sky above was choked with smoke and drifting ash.
Marcus coughed. "This is not OSHA compliant."
A panel appeared, flickering slightly.
HERO SELECTION IN PROGRESS
Location: Volcanic Region
Candidate: Marcus Hale
Status: Confirmed
"You've got the wrong guy," Marcus said hoarsely. "I once passed out near a grill."
The ground shifted.
Something pulled itself free from a crack in the rock—long, spear-like, glowing faintly at the edges. The metal looked dark, almost obsidian, but veins of molten orange light pulsed beneath its surface.
It hovered in front of him, as if waiting.
LIVING-CLASS WEAPON DETECTED
Fire Spear — Initialization Incomplete
Marcus swallowed.
"…That's not ominous at all."
The spear tilted slightly.
Not aggressively.
Curiously.
Marcus reached out before he could stop himself.
The moment his fingers brushed the shaft, heat surged through him—not burning, not painful, just intense. Images flashed behind his eyes: eruptions, pressure, earth tearing itself open to breathe.
He yanked his hand back with a yelp.
"Okay," he said firmly. "We're establishing boundaries."
The spear dimmed, almost… apologetically.
Marcus stared at it.
"…Did you just feel bad?"
The system panel remained silent.
Miles, meanwhile, was having what could only be described as a bad first day.
He woke up face-down in mud.
Cold mud.
He sputtered, pushing himself upright, spitting out water. Rain hammered down in relentless sheets, turning the ground into a slick mess beneath him.
"Fantastic," Miles groaned. "I finally sleep in and this happens."
A lake stretched out before him, its surface churning under the storm. Lightning forked across the sky, thunder rolling so loud it shook his ribs.
HERO SELECTION IN PROGRESS
Location: Aquatic Zone
Candidate: Miles Carter
Status: Confirmed
Miles squinted at the text through the rain. "You couldn't wait until after the storm?"
Something massive rose from the water.
Not a creature.
A weapon.
A long, elegant spear surfaced slowly, water cascading off its ornate shaft. Cyan gemstones glowed softly along its length, pulsing in time with the crashing waves.
The rain bent toward it.
Miles stared, soaked to the bone.
"That," he said faintly, "is definitely not regulation issue."
The spear drifted closer.
The lightning struck.
Miles screamed and ducked—only to realize the bolt had curved, slamming into the spear instead. The gemstones flared brilliantly, absorbing the energy with a resonant hum.
The storm eased—just a little.
Miles lifted his head, eyes wide.
"…Did you just steal lightning?"
The spear hovered, steady and calm.
For a moment, despite the chaos, Miles felt something strange.
Safe.
Elsewhere, underground, Lena was screaming at a sword.
"I DID NOT ASK FOR YOU!"
The blade hovered stubbornly in front of her, its surface black as night, edges faceted like diamond. Shadows clung to it unnaturally, bending toward its shape.
DIAMOND SHADOW SWORD — BINDING CONFIRMED
"I don't even like swords!" Lena snapped. "I took fencing once and cried!"
The sword did not care.
Back on the plains, Eli reappeared in a flash of light—and immediately fell over again.
"—WHY DOES IT DO THAT EVERY TIME?"
He lay on his back, staring up at the sky, chest heaving. The bow lay beside him, inert for the moment.
The system panel reappeared.
INITIAL DEPLOYMENT COMPLETE
Weapon Bound
Respawn Anchor: Unplaced
Recommendation: Establish anchor immediately.
Eli groaned. "You know, for something that controls reality, you're really bad at user experience."
He sat up slowly.
The grass waved gently in the wind. Somewhere far off, something howled.
Eli picked up the bow, feeling its weight settle naturally into his hands now, like it belonged there.
"…Okay," he said quietly. "Okay. I guess we're doing this."
The red laser dot flickered on, steadying.
And far above them all—unseen, unacknowledged—the sky watched.
Unblinking.
Unjudging.
Waiting.