The morning sun filtered through the curtains of Raven Hayes' apartment, casting golden rays across his face as he stirred awake. At twenty, life had been treating him well. Fresh out of his second year of college with a promising future in software engineering ahead of him, he'd landed a solid internship at a tech startup that actually valued its employees. His stipend wasn't astronomical, but it was enough to afford his own small place, enjoy his hobbies, and most importantly, spoil his girlfriend Sarah on special occasions.
And today was the most special occasion of his life.
Raven rolled out of bed, his heart hammering with nervous excitement. After three years together, he was finally going to propose to Sarah. The ring he'd spent months saving for sat hidden in his sock drawer, a simple but elegant diamond solitaire that had cost him nearly four months of his internship earnings. Sarah was worth every penny.
He went through his morning routine with unusual care, making sure everything was perfect. A long shower, careful grooming, and then the pièce de résistance – the black tuxedo he'd rented for the occasion. Sarah thought they were just going to see the new blockbuster at The Dome, the state's most advanced cinema complex, but Raven had much bigger plans.
His phone buzzed with a text from Sarah: "Can't wait for tonight! Love you!"
Raven grinned, typing back: "Love you too. It's going to be a night to remember."
If only he knew how prophetic those words would be.
After a quick breakfast, Raven made his way to Hartwell & Associates, the jewelry store where he'd been making payments on the ring for the past four months. The elderly shopkeeper, Mr. Hartwell, greeted him with a knowing smile.
"Big day today, young man?"
"The biggest," Raven replied, his palms sweating slightly. "I just hope she says yes."
"With a ring like this and the way your face lights up when you talk about her? She'd be crazy not to." Mr. Hartwell carefully placed the ring in an elegant black velvet box. "Good luck, son."
Raven tucked the box safely into his inner jacket pocket, feeling its weight like a talisman. This was it. After tonight, he and Sarah would officially be planning their future together.
The drive across town to The Dome gave him time to rehearse his proposal speech for the hundredth time. He'd planned it perfectly – during the movie's intermission, he'd suggest they get some air. The Dome had a beautiful rooftop garden area with a view of the city skyline. Under the stars, with the city lights twinkling below, he'd get down on one knee and ask the woman of his dreams to marry him.
The Dome lived up to its name – a massive spherical structure that dominated the entertainment district. Its cutting-edge technology made movies feel incredibly immersive, almost like being inside the film itself. It was Sarah's favorite place, which made it the perfect location for such an important moment.
Raven's phone rang just as he was pulling into the parking garage. The caller ID showed his supervisor, Grey.
"Hey, Grey, what's up?"
"Raven, my man! I hate to bother you on your big night, but the client is asking about those modifications to the database structure. Think you could have them ready by tomorrow morning?"
"Tomorrow? Yeah, no problem. It's just a few tweaks to the query optimization." Raven stepped out of his car, adjusting his tie. "But I'm completely offline tonight, Grey. This is important."
Grey chuckled. "I figured as much when you showed up to work in a tux this morning before changing into normal clothes. Sarah's a lucky girl, you know that? You're one of our best interns, but more importantly, you're a good man. She'd be crazy not to say yes."
"Thanks, Grey. That... actually means a lot."
"Now get out of here and go propose to your girl! And Raven? Don't screw it up!"
Raven laughed, feeling some of his nervousness ease. "I'll try not to."
He made his way through The Dome's impressive lobby, past the concession stands and movie posters, towards their agreed meeting spot near the main entrance. The place was bustling with the usual Friday evening crowd – couples on dates, families with excited children, groups of friends planning their night out.
Raven checked his watch. 6:45 PM. Sarah would be here in fifteen minutes. He'd stopped by a florist on the way and picked up a bouquet of white roses – her favorites. Everything was perfect.
Almost everything.
As he waited in a quiet corner near the entrance, bouquet in hand and ring burning a hole in his pocket, Raven noticed something odd. A faint light seemed to be emanating from the floor beneath his feet. At first, he thought it might be some kind of decorative LED lighting, but as he looked closer, the light grew brighter.
And it was forming patterns.
Geometric designs that looked eerily familiar began to glow more intensely. Raven's heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned. They looked exactly like the summoning circles from the anime he loved to watch – intricate magical formations with elaborate symbols and interconnected lines.
"No way," he whispered, taking a step back. "This has got to be some kind of promotional thing for a new movie."
But even as he said it, he knew something was wrong. The light was getting brighter, pulsing with an otherworldly energy that made the air itself hum with power. Other people in the lobby were starting to notice, pointing and murmuring in confusion.
Raven tried to move away, but his feet felt heavy, as if the very air around him was thickening. The geometric pattern beneath him was now blazing with silver-white light, and he could feel a strange pulling sensation, like invisible hands grabbing at his very soul.
"What the hell is happening?" he gasped, dropping the bouquet as panic set in.
The light suddenly intensified to a blinding degree. Raven felt a sensation like being yanked backward by a giant hand, his vision filling with cascading streams of energy. The last thing he saw was Sarah walking through The Dome's main entrance, her beautiful face turning to shock and horror as she watched her boyfriend disappear in an explosion of light.
Then everything went dark.
---
Several hours earlier, in the world of Celoria...
King Magnus Eloria stood on the highest balcony of his palace, gazing out over the sprawling capital city that bore his family's name. The Kingdom of Eloria was one of the largest and most prosperous realms on the continent of Ruzeron, blessed with fertile farmlands, strategic trade routes, and a population of nearly ten million souls.
But for all its wealth and power, Eloria lacked the one thing that truly mattered when the demon lords came calling: a magi.
The other great kingdoms each had at least one of these legendary spellcasters – master wizards who had transcended the normal limits of magic. When the time came to summon heroes from another world, it was the magi who performed the ritual, sacrificing their magical abilities forever in exchange for bringing forth humanity's saviors.
Magnus clenched his fists as he thought about it. For centuries, his kingdom had been forced to rely on the charity of others, contributing resources and troops to the fight against demon lords but never having a voice in the most crucial decision of all – which heroes were summoned. They were always at the mercy of whatever champions the other kingdoms called forth, hoping and praying that these strangers from another world would protect Eloria along with everyone else.
Not this time.
"Your Majesty?"
Magnus turned to see his most trusted advisor, Aldric Voss, approaching with a grim expression. The elderly man's face was pale, his hands trembling slightly as he carried a leather-bound tome.
"The preparations are complete," Aldric said quietly. "The one hundred mages you requested are in position within the Grand Summoning Chamber. They... they all understand what this will cost them."
Magnus nodded solemnly. It was a terrible price to pay – one hundred lives to accomplish what a single magi could do without dying. But desperate times called for desperate measures. The prophecies spoke of the ninety-ninth demon lord as something beyond anything the world had ever faced. The "Eater of Worlds," they called it. If such a monster was truly coming, then Eloria needed to secure its own protection.
"And they're all volunteers?" Magnus asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Every one of them, Your Majesty. Many are young mages from common families who see this as a chance to elevate their bloodlines to nobility. Others are older mages who wish to serve their kingdom in the most meaningful way possible." Aldric's voice grew heavy. "They're all brave souls, my lord. History will remember their sacrifice."
Magnus looked back out over his kingdom, watching the evening lights begin to twinkle in windows across the city. Somewhere out there, ordinary people were going about their lives – cooking dinner, playing with their children, falling in love, making plans for the future. They had no idea that their king was about to change the course of history itself.
"The timing is crucial," Magnus said. "The other continents won't expect us to summon heroes before the demon lord's herald arrives. By the time they realize what we've done, it will be too late. The heroes will already be bound to Eloria."
"And if the plan works?" Aldric asked.
"Then for the first time in our kingdom's history, we won't be begging for scraps at the table of fate." Magnus's eyes hardened. "The heroes will be 'our' heroes first, protectors of 'our' people. When they inevitably defeat the demon lord, it will be Eloria that gets the credit, Eloria that gains the most influence in the new world order."
Aldric shifted uncomfortably. "My lord, are you certain this is wise? The traditional summoning rituals exist for a reason. There are protocols, safeguards—"
"Protocols written by kingdoms that 'have' magi," Magnus cut him off. "We're not bound by their traditions, Aldric. We're creating our own path."
The two men made their way through the palace corridors toward the Grand Summoning Chamber, a vast circular room deep beneath the castle. As they walked, Magnus couldn't help but think about the irony of the situation. For generations, his ancestors had played by the rules, had been "honorable" and "patient." And where had it gotten them? Always second-class, always dependent on others for protection.
The chamber was unlike anything ever seen before. Where traditional summoning rituals used intricate circles carved into stone and inlaid with precious metals, this room contained something far more ambitious. One hundred smaller summoning circles formed a perfect geometric pattern around a central focal point, each one occupied by a volunteer mage.
Magnus paused at the entrance, struck by the solemnity of the scene. The mages – men and women ranging in age from barely eighteen to well into their sixties – knelt within their individual circles, hands placed on glowing crystalline focuses that pulsed with accumulated magical energy. Their faces showed a mixture of determination, fear, and pride.
These people were about to die for their kingdom. The least Magnus could do was witness their sacrifice.
"Are you ready?" he asked the assembly.
As one, the hundred mages bowed their heads in acknowledgment.
The eldest among them, a woman named Elena Brightwater, served as their spokeswoman. "We are honored to serve, Your Majesty. Our lives are a small price to pay for Eloria's future."
Magnus felt a lump in his throat but pushed down the emotion. Kings couldn't afford to show weakness, especially not when making decisions that would reshape the world.
"Then let us begin," he said.
Brightwater raised her staff, and the others followed suit. The crystalline focuses began to glow more brightly, and the air in the chamber started to hum with building magical energy.
"As source of thy power we order thee," Brightwater began, her voice echoing through the chamber. The other mages joined in, their voices creating a haunting chorus:
"O gates of worlds and pillars of destiny, respond!
By earth that shields, wind that guides,
Fire that forges and water that binds,
By void that crowns the endless sky,
Tear the veil of time and space,
Let chosen heroes of countless paths awaken,
Stride forth together and claim the call of fate!"
The effect was immediate and overwhelming. Light exploded from each of the hundred circles, streams of silver and gold energy that spiraled upward and converged at the chamber's center. The very air seemed to tear apart, revealing glimpses of another world beyond – a place of strange structures and unfamiliar skies.
Magnus shielded his eyes as the magical energies reached a crescendo. The mages were chanting now in perfect unison, their voices growing stronger even as their life forces were being consumed by the spell. One by one, they began to collapse, their bodies unable to sustain the massive drain on their souls.
But the spell continued, fed by their sacrifice.
Reality twisted and buckled in the center of the chamber. Magnus could see shapes beginning to materialize – five human figures being pulled through the dimensional barrier from their world to his. The heroes were coming.
As the light finally began to fade and the last of the mages breathed their final breath, Magnus stepped forward to see what his kingdom's sacrifice had purchased.
Five young people lay unconscious in the center of the chamber, their clothes strange and unfamiliar. Four of them bore the unmistakable signs of their divine blessing – a spear materialized beside a young man with short blonde hair, a bow appeared next to a red-haired woman, a shield manifested near a muscular youth, and a staff formed beside a girl who couldn't be more than eighteen.
But it was the fifth figure that made Magnus's blood run cold.
A young man in what appeared to be formal black clothing lay at the very center of the group, his jet-black hair marking him as strikingly handsome. But beside him, gleaming with an ominous silver light, was a sword.
The sword.
"No," Magnus whispered, his face going pale. "It can't be."
Aldric stepped up beside him, his own expression mirroring the king's horror. "Your Majesty... is that...?"
"The cursed blade," Magnus confirmed, his voice barely above a whisper. "We've summoned the sword hero."
The one hero no kingdom ever wanted. The one hero everyone knew was a sign of bad luck.
After sacrificing a hundred lives and defying centuries of tradition, King Magnus Eloria had committed the ultimate act of cruel irony. In his desperate attempt to secure the strongest possible protection for his kingdom, he had instead summoned the weakest hero in the world.
The abomination their world had ceased to want.
The sword hero had arrived.