Chapter 1 — The Summoning

“Oh, that’s a headshot, Dad!”

“Yeah, you know it, son. I told you I was a pro at this game!”

Morgan sat up a little straighter in his chair, his fingers moving rapidly across the controller as he focused on the screen. Beside him, his son watched in awe.

A little girl sat on the floor nearby, happily chewing on the arm of a doll.

“Hey, honey?” Macy called from the other room. “When are you getting paid again? I need to get groceries. We’re about to be out.”

“Should be getting the check when I clock out tomorrow,” Morgan replied, never taking his eyes off the screen. “The boss said something about a possible bonus, too—”

“Uh… Dad?”

Morgan paused.

His son was staring at him.

“What’s going on with you?”

Morgan frowned. “What?”

The boy slowly pointed at him.

Morgan looked down.

His arms were glowing.

A faint blue light outlined his skin, growing brighter by the second.

“What the hell?!”

“Macy!”

His wife came running into the living room.

The moment she saw him, she stopped abruptly.

Her hands flew to her mouth.

Morgan barely noticed.

His eyes were locked on his own arms as the blue light began spreading across his body.

“What’s going on, Morgan?” Macy cried. “You’re literally glowing!”

“Does it look like I know?!”

The light crawled up his chest.

Morgan stumbled backward.

“What the—I'm fading! No! No, no, no!”

“Dad!”

“Morgan!”

He reached toward them.

But his fingers were already becoming transparent.

“Macy!”

She lunged forward, but her hands passed through him.

Morgan watched helplessly as his family reached for him.

Then the light swallowed him completely.

And he disappeared.

Leaving nothing behind but his terrified family screaming his name.

Morgan had no idea how long he was falling.

There was no ground.

No sky.

No sense of direction.

Just light.

An endless, blinding light that seemed to stretch forever.

Then—

THUD!

Morgan slammed into something hard.

“Ow!”

He rolled onto his side, groaning.

“What the hell…”

Slowly, he pushed himself upright.

He looked around.

Stone walls surrounded him.

Large banners hung from the walls, each bearing symbols he didn't recognize. Torches burned along the sides of the room, their flames casting flickering shadows across the stone floor.

And beneath him was a massive circle carved into the ground.

Strange writing covered its surface.

Morgan stared at it.

Then stared at the room.

Then stared at the people surrounding him.

“Stone walls with banners… torches… writing on the floor…”

He slowly stood.

“Is this a fucking castle?!”

“You there! Calm down. We will explain everything momentarily.”

Morgan spun around.

A group of teenagers stood several feet away.

They looked like Japanese high school students.

Some were staring at him in confusion.

Others looked absolutely terrified.

And surrounding them was a crowd of people dressed like they had just walked off the set of a medieval fantasy movie.

Morgan counted them.

Ten men wearing armor and carrying swords.

Six people wearing robes and holding what appeared to be wooden staffs.

And sitting on a raised platform at the far end of the room—

A man wearing a crown.

Morgan stared at him.

Is that dude seriously cosplaying as a king?

He pointed toward the man.

“Hey, old dude. You're too old to be playing pretend. Where am I, and how did I get here?”

“Hey, man, calm down,” one of the students said.

A boy stepped forward and held out his hand.

“I don't think he's playing pretend. I'm pretty sure we were transported to another world.”

Morgan stared at him.

“The hell do you mean, another world?”

The boy smiled nervously.

“And how are you so calm?”

He paused.

“Also… how can I understand you?”

Before the boy could answer, the man wearing the crown slowly rose from his throne.

He spread his arms.

“It is exactly as the boy says.”

His voice echoed throughout the chamber.

“We have summoned you all to our world.”

The man smiled.

“Welcome to the Kingdom of Alta, heroes.”

He lowered his arms.

“We need your help to save our kingdom.”

Morgan stared at him.

Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me.

A man dressed in what appeared to be elaborate church robes stepped forward.

“When you were summoned, you were all granted the ability to understand the language of this world.”

He gestured toward the group.

“You have also been granted various skills and abilities.”

The man's expression became almost reverent.

“You should be able to view your abilities by thinking the word Status.”

The teenagers immediately began talking among themselves.

“Status?”

“Like a video game?”

“No way…”

“Holy shit, it worked!”

Morgan watched as several of them stared at something only they could see.

One of the students suddenly grinned.

“This is awesome!”

Morgan rubbed his forehead.

Great. They've already bought into this.

A deep voice came from beside him.

“Hey, man.”

Morgan turned.

A tall, muscular Black man stood beside him.

“You buying all this?”

Morgan looked him up and down.

Then smiled.

“Oh shit. Are you American too?”

“Yeah, man. Name's Dre. I'm from Cali, but I'm currently stationed overseas.”

Dre pointed at him.

“What about you?”

“Morgan. Kentucky.”

Morgan hesitated.

“I was in the service too. Rangers.”

Dre raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

Morgan looked around the room.

“So… is this shit real?”

Dre shrugged.

“Hell if I know.”

Morgan sighed.

“Status.”

A translucent window suddenly appeared in front of him.

Morgan's eyes widened.

No fucking way.

He stared at the information floating in front of him.

Status

Strength: 99
Agility: 80
Magic: 500
Intelligence: 110
Mana Capacity: ??
Rank: S

Skills:
Evade
Detonate
Weapons Expert

Morgan blinked.

Then blinked again.

“Oh, holy shit.”

Dre leaned closer.

“What?”

Morgan pointed at the window.

“This is like a game my kid had me play.”

He looked at his numbers again.

“These stats are kind of fucking broken for a starting character.”

Dre laughed.

“Let me see yours.”

Before Morgan could respond, the robed man spoke again.

“You may have noticed that a rank should have appeared on your arm after viewing your Status.”

Morgan looked down.

A large black S was emblazoned across his forearm.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, Dre.”

“Yeah?”

“Where's yours?”

Dre stared at him.

Then looked down at his own arm.

“Are you for real?”

Morgan frowned.

“What?”

Dre pointed at himself.

“I'm Black.”

Morgan stared at him for a second.

Then the two men burst out laughing.

For the first time since arriving, Morgan felt some of the tension leave his body.

Then he stepped forward.

“Hey, old man.”

The king's expression tightened slightly.

“This is cool and all, but I'm out.”

Morgan pointed behind himself.

“Send me back home.”

The room went silent.

The king stared at him.

“Send you home?”

“Yeah.”

Morgan folded his arms.

“My wife and kids are back there.”

The king's expression changed.

Confusion.

Then pity.

“I'm afraid I don't understand.”

He slowly shook his head.

“We summoned you here to save our kingdom.”

Morgan's jaw tightened.

“I don't give a shit about your kingdom.”

A murmur spread through the room.

The king sighed.

“Besides…”

His expression became grim.

“It is impossible to send someone home once they have been summoned.”

“Now, if you would all see Sir Barnes over here, he will get you sorted out with your living arrangements and explain what will be expected of you.”

The king turned toward the exit.

Morgan stared at him.

Then his expression hardened.

“Hey.”

The king continued walking.

“Asshat with the crown.”

The entire room froze.

The king stopped.

Morgan stepped forward.

“I’m not done talking to you.”

A few of the summoned students exchanged nervous glances.

Someone muttered under their breath.

“My word… there’s always one like him.”

“Hey, man,” one of the students said nervously. “I think you should really calm down. We’re in another world now, and we have powe—”

“Shut it, kid.”

Morgan didn't even look at him.

He kept his eyes locked on the king.

“You might think this is cool.”

His voice was shaking now.

Not from fear.

From anger.

“But I have a family.”

He took another step.

“My wife is pregnant. I have a son and a daughter. They need me to provide for them.”

Morgan pointed toward the king.

“I don't give a damn about this world. I don't give a damn about your kingdom. I didn't even know this place existed twenty minutes ago.”

His voice rose.

“I said send me back!”

The guards surrounding the room immediately drew their swords.

Steel rang throughout the chamber.

Morgan stopped.

The king slowly turned around.

His expression was one of barely restrained irritation.

“And I told you that it is impossible.”

“Then what about my family?!”

Morgan's voice echoed through the chamber.

“They won't survive without me!”

He clenched his fists.

“Who gave you the right to take me away from them for a country I don't care about? A country I didn't even know existed twenty minutes ago?!”

One of the men in robes stepped toward him.

Morgan's eyes flicked toward him.

The man reached beneath his robe.

Morgan reacted before he could think.

He grabbed the man's wrist, twisted it, and ripped the knife from his hand.

The movement was so fast that the man barely had time to react.

Morgan pulled him against his chest.

The blade pressed against his throat.

Silence.

Every person in the room froze.

Morgan looked directly at the king.

“Send me home, you old bastard.”

He pressed the blade slightly harder against the man's neck.

“Or your boy here gets it.”

A flash of movement.

Morgan barely had time to register it.

“Stand down if you don't want to lose your head, ungrateful cur!”

Sir Barnes was suddenly standing directly behind him.

One hand gripped the hilt of his sword.

Morgan's eyes widened.

Fast.

Then—

BOOM!

Barnes was launched across the room.

His armored body slammed into the stone wall with enough force to crack it.

Morgan stared.

Dre stood where Barnes had been.

His fist was still raised.

“Don't even try it.”

Morgan looked at him.

Dre didn't look back.

He kept his eyes on the guards.

The king's expression changed.

He slowly turned his gaze toward Dre.

Then Morgan.

“I know your kind.”

His voice was colder now.

“I have seen many of you ungrateful peasants arrive here demanding to return to your pathetic lives.”

He stepped forward.

“They threaten to fight. They threaten my guards.”

The king sneered.

“But eventually, they all fall in line.”

His eyes narrowed.

“And so will you.”

He gestured toward Morgan.

“Put the knife down, and I'll forget this incident—”

Squish.

The man's body went limp.

Blood sprayed across Morgan's hand.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Morgan stared at the dead man in his arms.

Then he let him fall.

The knife slipped from his fingers.

Clatter.

“There.”

Morgan looked at the king.

“I dropped it.”

He walked toward him.

“So send me home.”

The king took a step backward.

Morgan grabbed the front of his royal robes and lifted him slightly off the ground.

Dre stood behind Morgan, his back facing him as he watched the guards.

Anyone who moved would have to get through him first.

Morgan leaned closer to the king.

“These are children.”

His voice was quiet now.

“I can only assume you're planning to use them as fodder in a war.”

The king's face began to pale.

“I've killed men like you for my country.”

Morgan tightened his grip.

“What makes you think I won't kill you for free?”

The king's hands clawed at Morgan's wrist.

“I told you!”

He struggled to breathe.

“We can't!”

Morgan stared at him.

“What?”

“The spell is one-way!”

The king's face was turning red.

“But we can bring your family here!”

Morgan loosened his grip slightly.

“In a year!”

The king gasped.

“Just put me down!”