[Third Person POV]
"F*ckin' hell, today at work was rough as sh*t. I'm just relieved I made it home."
Rick Dickson was tired.
Not the ordinary kind of tired—the kind a cup of cheap coffee or a night of good sleep could fix. No, this was the sort of exhaustion that started in the feet, crawled up the knees, wrapped around the spine, and settled in the skull like a permanent guest.
The kind of tired that coffee ignored and sleep couldn't fix. The kind of tired that came from ten years of working a job that ate the body, drained the heart, and paid just barely enough to keep a man alive.
The construction site he works at had always been a hellhole, not an unusual hellhole—just a particularly loud, unforgiving one. However today was extra bad.
Nearing the winter season, a lot of construction workers were getting exhausted far easier, lacking moral now having fewer sunlight time to work with, and an appearance of the most cold stress injury that will no doubt increase as it gets closer to winter.
Not to mention the typical daily issues that would happens. The crane operator being in a foul mood after being chewed out by a supervisor. Someone accidentally dropping a bucket of nails from the third floor scaffold, nearly braining an intern. Dealing with late deliveries like spending 20 minutes circling for a legal spot for the work trucks, or getting ticketed anyway. Lifting Injuries & Muscle Strain that mainly come from back pain from awkward lifts, twisted ankles, or smashed fingers from handling materials, and many, many, other problems.
There's also Rick's coworker dumb shenanigans that would sometimes get on his nerves.
Busting Each Other's Chops, Hiding Someone's Tools as a harmless prank, Blasting Music, along with some other sh*t they do.
Hell, a coworker named Luis cracked a joke about Rick's name, as always—Dick-son, hilarious to everyone except Rick, who had heard it since kindergarten, what's worse is how quickly it became his nickname at work, The Dick-son.
None of which dignified Rick a response. He seldom ever did, always focusing on getting his work done. As long as he finished his tasks, he would get paid. And that paycheck was the only way he could afford his monthly fees.
Rick had already stepped off the subway he always took to travel to and from the construction site he is currently working at. The five-minute walk to his apartment took ten tonight. His legs resisted every step. He stopped once to stretch his back, earning a suspicious glare from an old woman staring out of her window.
His building—if it could still be called that—was a three-story brick structure that had aged like milk. The front steps were cracked. The railing wobbled. The front door always stuck, requiring a combination of force and prayer to open.
As he pulled it, the door gave way with a groan that echoed down the dim hallway.
Inside smelled of old carpet, mildew, and something his neighbor cooked every night that he suspected involved fish and resentment.
"Evening, Rick," murmured Mrs. Hathaway, the elderly woman from 2B, struggling to carry two bags of groceries.
He forced a smile, even though his face protested. "Need help?"
"Oh no, dear, I've got it," she lied, wobbling her way toward the stairs.
'Hah… yeah, leave it to me, right? Whatever. Fuck it— I'll help her out.'
Rick helped her anyway, taking one of the bags and walking it up to her door. She thanked him too many times. Rick shrugged it off. At least someone still saw him as more than a worker drone.
At his own door—3C—he fumbled with the key twice before unlocking it. The hinges creaked in complaint, as always. He stepped inside and let it shut behind him.
He didn't bother flipping the light switch. He knew the room by memory: small studio, peeling wallpaper, a kitchenette that barely deserved the name, and a bed sagging in the middle like it had grown tired of life too.
He tossed his jacket onto the single chair. His boots stayed on—his feet didn't want to deal with the laces. He sat heavily on the bed, then slowly let gravity pull him down until he lay flat on his back, staring at the shadows on the ceiling.
"Uughh… damn, it feels good to just flop down."
The ceiling fan above him turned lazily, its faint clicking sound a familiar lullaby of decay.
Rick closed his eyes.
His body hurt in too many places to count. His mind drifted through the last ten years—years spent paying off the financial crater of gambling debt his parents left him with. Every paycheck had gone to the debt. Every major life decision bent itself around survival.
And now? He's Debt-free, finally.
But with nothing to show for it except lost youth and a hollowed-out spirit.
He exhaled shakily.
"What now?" he whispered into the darkness. A question without an answer.
He expected the silence to swallow it.
Instead, something else answered.
Not in sound. Not in light. Not in words.
But in force.
It hit him like a pulse. A ripple through his skull, like someone tapping on the inside of his mind. He jerked upright, dizzy, clutching his temples.
"What the hell—?!?"
Another pulse. Stronger.
Then something ignited inside him.
Not heat. Not electricity. Something deeper. Two presences emerged within him, completely foreign but… familiar?
One felt like a crown forged in battle, the collective will of legends, a throne built from the resolve of countless heroes.
Noble, relentless, sharp with purpose.
And the words, The Meta Essence of Throne of Heroes, burned into his mind.
It didn't stopped there, The other that felt like wandering footsteps across infinite landscapes, wind born from endless horizons, freedom so vast it made the universe seem too small.
Untamable, boundless, ancient. Also left a mark of its own with the words, The Meta Essence of The Nomad.
They didn't speak.
They didn't need to.
Their presence alone said everything:
You are no longer the man you were.
While the immense amount of knowledge poured itself into Rick's "being", instinctively he understands the two gifts he had randomly received as he gasps, clutching the bedsheet as power surged through him. His heart pounded faster, louder, each beat sending waves of energy down his arms.
He stumbled to his feet , and for the first time in his life, Rick felt alive.
Truly alive.
His exhaustion was gone, devoured by a rising exhilaration that left him breathless. He opened his hands and watched faint lines of light ripple across his palms, each pulse instinctual, natural.
"I–its… actually gone… the aches, the cramps, even the joint pains… all of it…"
"Why do I feel so damn energized—no, hold up… the real question is what the f*ck is goin' on??"
As Rick tried to calm himself, the knowledge that had "entered" him began to settle. Within moments, it simmered down enough for him to process it. And just like that, he quickly began to understand what was happening to him.
He laughed—first disbelieving, then increasingly wild.
"This… this is real," he whispered. "Holy hell, this is real."
A decade of burden, struggle, and quiet misery cracked apart like dried clay.
He rushed to the window, shoved it open, and leaned out into the cool night air. The city buzzed below him. Cars weaving through traffic, horns blaring, people laughing, arguing, and living their chaotic lives. Neon lights flickered against puddles on the street, painting the sidewalks in shifting colors. Yet despite all that noise and motion, it all felt strangely distant. Insignificant.
Rick spread his arms wide.
"Goodbye, old Earth!" he shouted, voice shaking with manic joy. "Let us never meet again! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"Now get me outta this hellhole and take me far, far away from here!"
His laughter echoed down the alley like the cry of a bird finally slipping its cage.
Reality warped around him. The air shimmered, folding inward, drawn to the power within him. His newly awakened essence recognized the path forward, guiding him forward.
Light swirled at his feet.
The floor dissolved.
His apartment blurred like a dying memory.
Rick Dickson, a once a tired, invisible construction worker, stepped out of his world and into a far greater journey.
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[Rick POV]
A long time ago before my parents death, the gambling death debt they've left, there was a time when we were genuinely happy, because my older brother, Johnny, was always there, the anchor that held us together.
He was kind, patient, held a strong moral code, and was just smart. When he became doctor, for sure me and our my parents were so proud of him, cause we came from the bronx. Life turning was around, especially when found a job at one of those fancier hospital's, from moving out of the bronx and into a decent neighborhood. Life was good at this point.
For me personally around this time, I was only in highschool on the verge of graduation yet I still didn't know what I wanted to due at that point. Then my brother as always new something was up with me, even I denied it he still continued to bugged me until I confessed, and no lying does not work against him.
When I did talked about my issues, he always try to understand but also be real with me at the same time, and he said, "I know you think you don't have a direction yet, but trust me, you do. You just have to keep searching and never give up, because the moment you do is the moment you truly lose."
So I kept searching, and eventually after awhile, I learned that I want to travel the world, to explore every corner of earth and what it offered.
But then my brother died from a Hospital shooting, the offender being a relative of a recently decease patient. After that everything went spiraling down, my parents got depressed and fell to gambling addiction, we had to move back to bronx, and I had to drop any plans for the future and started looking for work. Not long after they died car crash, and leaving me with a decent amount of debt to pay back.
Honestly, I thought my life was over at thag point, and my dreams will never be more than just that.
"Uuum, hey pal, you good?"
Now, standing before me a whole new world, from what I could tell I was in a plaza, there was a constant mix of shouting vendors, clattering carts, and footsteps on stone. The air smelled of roasted food, spices, and the faint smoke from nearby braziers. People moved in every direction, weaving through the crowd with a steady rhythm that somehow avoided total chaos. Stalls lined the edges, colorful fabrics and strange trinkets hanging from every beam.
More than that, were the many races that you would ever read in fantasy books, in this particular instance a DnD book, as I watched Dwarves, Elvs, Humans, Tieflings, Halflings, and many more races.
Me? I was off in the corner crying my eyes out while I laughed, so much so that a female Tiefling Guard game, looking awkward as she asked me if I was okay.
"Ah? Oh! No–sorry, I was just having a moment here..." I hurriedly said wiping away the tears with my shirt.
"No-no! don't worry about it, listen I didn't mean to interrupt whatever you were processing, I simply asked if you were okay, that's all." She responded, trying her best to sound gentle.
"Right, well, thank you..."
"Valbis Valtari, and obviously you can probably take a gander from what I'm wearing that I'm part of the Waterdeep guards."
"Yea...wait Waterdeep?" Rick murmured, feeling like he heard that name from before, then suddenly remembering one of the two big cities from a famous table top rpg game, DnD.
'Is this the DnD multiverse? If so I may have to consider leaving sooner rather than later.'
"So, um, you wanna grab a drink, there's a bar close by and I'm off duty for today."
"...You want to me, a complete stranger out for a drink?"
"Uh, yeah? I mean I only asked cause it seemed like you needed it, you don't have to if you don't want to."
Taking closer look at her face, based on normal human esthetics I can definitely tell she is clearly a 10/10 beautiful woman, even as a Tiefling possessing a light-blue skins, two long curved tails, a long whip like tail, and bright silver, did nothing lose her attractiveness, as a matter of fact as person from earth, it only made her all the more gorgeous.
"You know what, sure, I could also get something to too."
"That's great, just follow me, it's only a 4 minute walk."
Though, I may have to leave soon, I don't need to right now.