For years, stories of dungeons and the heroes that conquer them have shot into the public eye. These fantasies all try to have a twist that makes them stand out, something that makes their character different. Perhaps they found a legendary item on the first day, or unlocked some hidden class due to a strange set of circumstances. Perhaps they got a chance to do everything over. It doesn't really matter what it is. All of them have an edge. Sure, some of them might have the drive and the passion to be real heroes who simply had a little extra help. Whatever makes the story interesting. Interesting enough, in fact, for whoever is in control of this world to decide it should be reality. A self fulfilling prophecy. The day the world went mad.
Hob was an older fellow. At least, by comparison to those around him. That's natural when you go back to college being forty-three years old. He didn't mind. Twenty years in a factory would drive anyone to want a breath of fresh air. So, after saving up some money --and begging for a place to stay with his brother-- Hob began to attend The Smithson Memorial College in pursuit of a degree in veterinary medicine. He had his dog, Ajax, to thank for that. A health scare in an eight year old dog is no laughing matter.
A few weeks into his first semester, Hob was struggling to adjust back to school life. The term "homework" had been so far detached from his reality that it seemed to be a strange dream. Lucid, apparently, since he was aware of the fact. Sitting in his Animal Anatomy lecture hall, he gave himself a small pinch. He felt it. Not a dream, then, he thought. The professor, and old hag that made Hob look like a teenager, droned on in the background.
"...as mentioned in yesterday's lecture, a heartworm is not exclusive to the hearts of animals, but can also be found in other organs such as the lungs or..."
Nothing worth paying attention to. If it was mentioned yesterday, why bother covering it again today? Hobs let his head fall between his arms, a lock of his hair falling in front of his eyes. It was still brown, but a few strands of gray were making their presence known in the sunlight from the window. Feelings of doubt began to fill his heart. I'm never going to retire starting a career this late.
The world had no patience for his, or anyone else's, existential crisis. A shadow filled the window, sending the gray hiding back amongst the brown. Normally he would dismiss the absence of light, accepting a simple cloud as the cause, but the contrast seemed too sharp to have so simple a culprit. Glancing towards the window, his eyes widened with fear. Tendrils of smoke --or something worse which he could not yet comprehend-- covered the glass, shifting as if to get inside. Possibilities raced through Hob's mind. A gas leak? Terrorists? But why here? It didn't add up.
Before he could theorize any further, a chime rang through the room. Turning back to the board, a floating square had popped into existence in the center of the class. It read:
Hello Prospective Heroes! Your world has become connected to the Inter-Dimensional Adventuring Society, or the ADIS! Congratulations! Please wait inside while dimensional links are being formed, as exposure to these forces will be lethal at this time! Thank You!
The message was so matter-of-fact that Hob felt inclined to laugh, but restrained himself. The room had already developed into chaos, people shouting to each other and running for the door. Hob felt fortunate that the door led to a hallway as opposed to directly outside. If that message is true, these dimwits might get us all killed by opening that door. After a few people had exited, and no signs of their demise immediately followed, he decided to enter the hallway as well.
In the hallway, it became clear that his was not the only class to receive the memo. Students were running out of various other doors, faces stricken with panic. In the middle of the air was a duplicate of the same message. Looking down the hall towards the exit, a crowd had formed in front of the double doors. As Hob got closer, the issue became clear.
The first object of his attention was another message box. This one hovered an inch in front of the door, high enough for anyone to see, and just below the red EXIT sign. It did not contain the same message as before, but rather a timer, counting down. It must have begun around five minutes, as it now read as 04:17.
Below the timer stood the crowd, divided into two. The first group stood against the door, shouting at the crowd. The second opposed them, shouting back. Their numbers were equal. Hob picked a few voices out of the mix.
"Let us out, please!" cried a desperate man. He clearly had never been inclined towards sports based on his build. Hob thought a man like that would be nerdy enough to thrive in this situation, but clearly not.
"You're all crazy! Can't you read? You'd be killing us as well as yourselves!" The woman who spoke caught Hob's attention. Someone with a head on straight. He pushed his way through the crowd to stand beside her, along with the rest of the more literate group.
"This woman is right. Even if the message is wrong, there's no reason to accept that level of risk, especially if it's at the expense of everyone's lives. Wait for the timer to finish." Hob spoke. The crowd seemed to shrink at his voice. Hob was the only person there above the age of 25, and by a large margin. He could easily be any of their fathers.
The desperate man pushed on, sweat dripping down his face. "What if the message is wrong? We could all die when it ends! What then?"
Here, the woman replied. "Then so be it. Anything capable of putting these messages here could have killed us without a timer if it wanted to. We have no reasonable choice but to comply." The crowd shrunk further, save the desperate man. Although he stood his ground, his words stopped. Hob glanced over his shoulder. 03:32. He figured that with that time left, the group amassed could push back physically if needed. Looking back to the crowd, it was clear that there would be no need. They had already dispersed, many huddled in discussion or watching the timer anxiously from against a wall. He couldn't blame them. He had no proof beyond logic that the desperate man was wrong.
The woman turned to him, extending a hand to shake. "Thank you for speaking up. Without a teacher, I don't think they would have listened."
"Oh, I'm not a teacher, but I'm glad to be of help." Hob took her hand and gave it a firm shake before withdrawing.
"Really? I didn't know we had anyone that old here." A look of horror crossed her face. "Not, like, old-old! Just older! My bad!"
A smile crossed Hobs face. "Glad to know you have more to you than being a club bouncer. Well I'm Hob, but you can call me Grandpa if you'd like."
The horror grew in the woman's eyes. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" Hob was deep in laughter as he watched her stumble to correct her comment.
"I'm just messing with you, kid. I know I'm old for college."
Slowly, the horror turned to relief. After a deep breath, she spoke again. "I'm Kelly. It's nice to meet you Hob."
"Nice to meet you, too, Kelly." He glanced at the time again. 02:51. "Do you have any idea what the deal is with all this, Kelly?"
"God? Aliens? A TV show? Honestly, I have no idea. It doesn't even feel real, but I can't explain any of this if it isn't." Kelly seemed lost in thought.
"Excuse me? Hello?" The desperate man had appeared off to the side. "I might have an idea."
"Right, like your idea that we're all about to blow up?" Kelly rolled her eyes.
Hob sighed. "Might as well hear it." Kelly shot him a nasty look, which the desperate man either didn't see or didn't acknowledge.
"I read these stories, right? They're all online, but there are a lot of them. Now, the details always vary. Personally, I refuse to read any that have the whole regressor trope, I think they're a little too copy-pasted for my liking, but I see the appeal-" The man had begun to ramble.
"Make your point before Kelly punches you." Hob was not exaggerating. She looked very prepared to do so.
"Right, sorry. Point is, they all start like this. Something crazy happens, a message pops up and explains it. Dungeons start appearing, or monsters start roaming the streets, or a tower appears. The world adapts, and heroes appear to conquer the challenge. There's usually someone running the whole show too. Everything going on here right now is textbook!" It seemed like the man was excited to live out his stories.
Hob and Kelly stared at him for a moment. on one hand, the story seemed ridiculous. On the other, the details lined up a little to neatly.
"What's your name?" Hob asked.
"Ryan, sir." Ryan replied. He seemed scared
"I don't like it, but you might be right, Ryan. If you are, we might need your help. Kelly?" Hob turned to get her opinion.
"Fine. But if you're wrong, you're going to wish the timer was for a bomb." Of course, neither of the two were keen on sticking with the guy who had been so desperate to run into the "lethal forces", but if his theory was correct then his information would be priceless. The whole group now turned to see the timer. 00:25. A shiver ran down Hob's spine. Anything but a bomb.
00:22.
Please, not a bomb.
00:19.
"Any last words, anybody?" Said Ryan.
00:17.
"It's not a bomb." Replied Hob, as much to himself as to Ryan.
00:14.
It's not a bomb.
00:10.
"Maybe we shouldn't be right next to the door? Just in case?" Kelly said, already stepping backwards.
00:07.
No one replied. They all began to run.
00:05.
Past the first door.
00:04.
Hob's original classroom went by.
00:03.
"Against the wall!" Hob cried.
00:02.
Everyone huddled exactly as instructed.
00:01.
They braced.
00:00.
Ding!