Consciousness returned to Raven like waves lapping at a distant shore , slow, disorienting, and accompanied by the strangest sensation that something fundamental about the world had changed. His head throbbed with a dull ache, and his mouth tasted like copper pennies. The first thing he noticed was that the ground beneath him wasn't carpeted like The Dome's lobby, but cold stone that seemed to leach the warmth from his body.
The second thing he noticed was the weight in his right hand.
Raven's eyes snapped open, and he immediately wished they hadn't. The world around him spun like a carnival ride, forcing him to squeeze his lids shut again until the nausea passed. When he finally managed to focus, he found himself staring up at an impossibly high vaulted ceiling decorated with intricate murals depicting battles between armored warriors and monstrous creatures.
This definitely wasn't The Dome.
He tried to sit up, and that's when he felt it again , the unfamiliar weight in his grip. Looking down, Raven's breath caught in his throat. His hand was wrapped around the leather-bound hilt of a sheathed sword, the weapon's presence as natural as if it had always belonged there. The blade itself was elegant in its simplicity, with a silver crossguard and a pommel that seemed to pulse with an inner light.
"What the hell?" he whispered, his voice echoing strangely in the vast chamber. As he spoke, he caught his reflection in the polished surface of the sword's crossguard , and froze. His eyes, which had always been a deep brown, now gleamed with flecks of gold that seemed to shift and swirl like molten metal.
"Oh good, you're awake!"
The cheerful voice came from his left, and Raven turned to see a young man about his own age sitting up nearby. The stranger had short blonde hair and an easy smile that seemed completely at odds with their bizarre situation. A long spear lay across his lap, its polished wood gleaming in the chamber's magical lighting.
"I'm Beau," the blonde continued, extending his hand. "Beau Mitch. And unless I'm having the most vivid dream of my life, I think we've been transported to another world."
Raven stared at him. "You're taking this remarkably well."
"Are you kidding? This is like every anime I've ever watched!" Beau's grin widened. "Though I'll admit, I was hoping to wake up in a tavern with a busty elf girl nursing me back to health."
Despite everything, Raven found himself cracking a small smile. At least he wasn't alone in this insanity. He accepted Beau's hand and pulled himself to his feet, surprised by how steady he felt despite the circumstances.
That's when he noticed the others.
Three more figures were scattered around the circular chamber, each in various stages of awakening. A red-haired woman was examining an ornate bow with obvious fascination, her green eyes bright with curiosity rather than fear. Nearby, a muscular young man was hefting a round shield, testing its weight with the practiced movements of someone familiar with combat. The last person , a girl who couldn't be more than eighteen , clutched a wooden staff topped with a glowing crystal, her dark hair framing a face that looked more terrified than excited.
"Well, this is either the best LARP convention ever, or we're in serious trouble," the red-haired woman said, standing gracefully despite her obvious confusion. She had a slight accent that Raven couldn't place. "I'm Ayana Fey, by the way."
The muscular young man grunted his agreement, shield still balanced on his arm. "Axel Van. And if this is a dream, it's the most realistic one I've ever had." He looked around the chamber with cautious eyes. "Question is, where exactly are we?"
The youngest of the group , the girl with the staff , looked like she was on the verge of tears. "I want to go home," she whispered. "I was supposed to be studying for my calculus exam tomorrow."
"Hey, it's okay," Ayana said gently, moving over to place a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. "What's your name?"
"Ava. Ava Heath." The girl's voice was barely audible. "This can't be real. Things like this don't happen to people like me."
Raven felt a surge of sympathy for her. While Beau seemed to be living out his fantasy and the others appeared to be adapting quickly, Ava looked completely overwhelmed. He knew the feeling , his own thoughts kept drifting to Sarah, to the proposal that would never happen, to the life that had been ripped away from him in an instant.
"It's going to be okay," he found himself saying, though he wasn't sure he believed it. "We'll figure this out."
Before anyone could respond, the massive doors at the far end of the chamber swung open with a groan of ancient hinges. A procession of figures entered, led by a tall man wearing an elaborate crown and robes that probably cost more than Raven's car. The man's presence commanded attention , he moved with the confidence of someone accustomed to absolute authority.
Behind him came what was obviously a royal court: advisors in rich clothing, guards in polished armor, and servants carrying banners emblazoned with a golden eagle. The whole scene looked like something out of a medieval movie, complete with the dramatic lighting and echoing footsteps.
"Heroes!" the crowned man announced, his voice booming through the chamber. "I am King Magnus Eloria, sovereign of the greatest kingdom on the continent of Ruzeron. You have been summoned to our world in its hour of greatest need."
Raven exchanged glances with the others. Beau looked like Christmas morning had come early, while Ava seemed ready to faint. Ayana and Axel wore expressions of cautious interest, clearly waiting to hear more before committing to any particular reaction.
"Your Majesty," Beau said, taking a step forward with his spear held at his side. "We're honored to meet you, but we're a little confused about the whole summoning thing. How exactly did we get here?"
Magnus's face lit up as his gaze fixed on Beau, and suddenly the king's entire demeanor shifted. Where moments before he had been addressing the group as a whole, now his attention seemed laser-focused on the blonde spear-wielder.
"Ah, the Spear Hero!" Magnus exclaimed, moving toward Beau with obvious enthusiasm. "Welcome, champion! Your arrival heralds a new dawn for our world."
The king then turned to Ayana, his smile just as warm. "And the Bow Hero! Your legendary accuracy will surely turn the tide of battle." Next was Axel: "Shield Hero! Your protection will be the bulwark behind which our forces rally." Finally, he approached Ava with a gentler expression: "Staff Hero, your magical prowess will be the light that drives back the darkness."
Each hero received a personal greeting, a warm smile, and what felt like genuine enthusiasm from the king. Magnus spent time with each of them, asking their names, commenting on their weapons, making them feel welcomed and important.
Raven stood there with his sword, waiting for his turn.
And waiting.
Magnus finished speaking with Ava and turned back toward his advisors as if the conversation was complete. It was Axel who cleared his throat and gestured in Raven's direction.
"Um, Your Majesty? I think you missed someone."
Magnus paused, following Axel's gaze to where Raven stood. The king's expression changed instantly , the warm smile faded, replaced by something that looked almost like disappointment. His eyes flicked to the sword at Raven's side, and Raven could have sworn he saw the man's jaw tighten.
"Ah. Yes." Magnus's voice was flat, professional. "The... fifth hero."
That was it. No grand introduction, no enthusiasm, no personal welcome. Just an acknowledgment that Raven existed. The contrast was so stark that even Beau looked uncomfortable.
"I'm Raven," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Raven Hayes."
"Of course." Magnus barely glanced at him. "Well then, now that you've all awakened, let me explain your situation."
The king launched into what was clearly a rehearsed speech about their world, about the demon lords that periodically threatened all life, and about the ancient ritual that summoned heroes to combat these threats. Raven tried to follow along, but he kept getting distracted by the way Magnus continued to ignore him even while addressing the group.
"Every few centuries, when a demon lord rises to threaten our world, heroes are called from another realm," Magnus explained. "You five have been chosen by fate itself, blessed with legendary weapons that will grow in power as you do."
"And we can go home afterward?" Ava asked hopefully.
Magnus's smile returned , the warm, reassuring one he'd used for everyone except Raven. "Of course, young hero. Once the demon lord is defeated, the same magic that brought you here will return you to your world. Your sacrifice will not go unrewarded."
Something about the way he said it made Raven's stomach clench. The words sounded right, but there was something in Magnus's eyes that didn't match his reassuring tone. Still, Ava visibly relaxed, and even Ayana looked more at ease.
"Now," Magnus continued, "before we proceed, there's something important you must learn. Each of you possesses the ability to view your own status , your abilities, statistics, and progress. Simply think or say the word 'Status' and you'll see your current capabilities."
Curious despite his growing unease, Raven focused his thoughts. 'Status.'
A translucent screen materialized in front of him, visible only to his eyes:
‐‐‐
STATUS
Name: Raven Hayes
Level: 1
Class: Sword Hero
Titles: The Cursed Sword, Hero
STATS
HP: 100
SP: 50
MP: 20
Attack: 10
Defense: 10
Agility: 10
Magic: 10
Resistance: 5
Luck: -10
EQUIPMENT
Weapon: Legendary Basic Sword
Armor: None
Accessory: None
SKILLS
Slash
Thrust
Parry
Sword Block
ABILITIES
Inventory
‐‐‐
Raven's heart sank as he read through his stats. While he didn't know what the others were seeing, his numbers looked decidedly average at best. And that luck stat... negative ten? What did that even mean?
But it was the titles that really caught his attention. "The Cursed Sword" didn't exactly inspire confidence.
"Wow!" Beau exclaimed, his eyes wide as he presumably looked at his own status screen. "This is incredible! My attack stat is already at fifteen, and I've got some kind of special ability called 'Piercing Strike'!"
"My magic stat is at twenty," Ava said, sounding amazed despite her earlier fear. "And I have something called 'Healing Light'!"
Ayana nodded approvingly. "Agility of eighteen and a skill called 'Sure Shot.' Not bad for a starting character."
"Defense at twenty and 'Guardian's Resolve,'" Axel added with satisfaction. "I can definitely work with this."
Raven said nothing. His stats were embarrassingly low in comparison, and whatever abilities he was supposed to have were locked away. Even his starting skills looked basic compared to what the others were describing.
"Excellent!" Magnus beamed at the four heroes, his enthusiasm genuine. "Your potential is remarkable. With proper training and equipment, you'll become unstoppable."
Again, his eyes skipped right over Raven.
"Come," the king continued, gesturing grandly toward the chamber's exit. "Let us proceed to the throne room, where my court awaits to properly welcome our saviors."
The procession that followed felt like something out of a fairy tale , at least for four of the five heroes. Magnus walked alongside Beau, Ayana, Axel, and Ava, regaling them with tales of past heroes and their legendary deeds. Royal guards flanked them on both sides, their polished armor gleaming in the torchlight of the corridor. Servants scattered flower petals in their path, and the very air seemed to hum with anticipation.
Raven walked several steps behind, effectively excluded from the royal escort. No one spoke to him, no petals were scattered in his path, and when he tried to catch up to the main group, somehow the positioning always seemed to shift to keep him at the back.
The throne room, when they finally reached it, was absolutely magnificent. Soaring columns supported a ceiling painted with scenes of heroic triumph, while banners bearing the royal crest hung from every wall. Hundreds of courtiers, nobles, and officials packed the vast space, their faces bright with excitement and hope.
As the doors swung open and the heroes entered, a cheer went up that shook the very foundations of the castle.
"The heroes have arrived!" someone shouted.
"Our saviors are here!"
"Blessed be the realm!"
The crowd surged forward, eager to catch a glimpse of the legendary figures who would save their world. Nobles pushed and jostled for position, their eyes shining with tears of joy and relief. Children were lifted onto shoulders for a better view, while elderly courtiers fell to their knees in gratitude.
But as Raven looked around the room, he noticed something that made his stomach drop. Every single person in the throne room was focused on the other four heroes. Beau was surrounded by admirers praising his noble bearing and the magnificence of his spear. Ayana had a cluster of female courtiers complimenting her grace and the elegance of her bow. Axel found himself the center of attention among military officials who clearly approved of his shield and warrior's stance. Even shy Ava was being gently encouraged by maternal nobles who cooed over her youth and the power radiating from her staff.
Raven might as well have been invisible.
He tried to move closer to his fellow heroes, but the crowd seemed to naturally part around him in a way that kept him separate from the main celebration. When he attempted to join conversations, voices would trail off and eyes would find other things to focus on. It wasn't hostile , it was worse. It was as if he simply didn't matter.
"People of Eloria!" Magnus's voice boomed across the throne room as he took his place on the golden throne. "Today marks the beginning of a new age! The Spear Hero, the Bow Hero, the Shield Hero, and the Staff Hero have answered our call!"
The crowd erupted in cheers again, and Raven noticed that Magnus had quite deliberately omitted any mention of a fifth hero. Looking around, he could see that some of the courtiers were indeed aware of his presence, but their expressions ranged from confusion to barely concealed disdain.
An elderly advisor leaned toward a younger noble and whispered something that made both men shake their heads sadly. A group of military officers kept glancing in Raven's direction and frowning. Even the servants seemed to avoid making eye contact with him.
"Now," Magnus continued once the cheering died down, "as is tradition, we shall provide our heroes with the resources they need to begin their sacred mission." He gestured, and a line of servants stepped forward carrying ornate wooden chests.
One by one, the servants approached each of the four celebrated heroes. Beau received his chest with a flourish, the servant bowing deeply as he presented what was clearly meant to be a ceremonial moment. The same scene played out with Ayana, Axel, and Ava , each chest presented with reverence and obvious pride.
When it came to Raven's turn, however, a different servant stepped forward. This one carried not a wooden chest but a simple leather pouch. There was no ceremony, no bow, no flourish. The servant simply handed over the pouch with the sort of perfunctory efficiency reserved for completing unpleasant but necessary tasks.
"One hundred gold pieces for each of our true heroes," Magnus announced proudly, gesturing to the four ornate chests. "More than enough to outfit yourselves for the trials ahead."
The crowd murmured appreciatively at the king's generosity. Beau opened his chest and gasped at the sight of the gleaming coins within, each one bearing the royal seal.
Raven looked down at his own pouch. Even without opening it, he could tell it contained far less than the others. When he loosened the drawstring and peered inside, his suspicions were confirmed , fifty gold coins, each one smaller and less lustrous than those his companions had received.
"And for the... other one," Magnus added almost as an afterthought, his gesture vague and dismissive. "Fifty gold pieces."
The difference wasn't lost on anyone in the throne room. Raven could feel dozens of eyes on him now, but not with the admiration and hope directed at the others. These looks were filled with pity, confusion, and in some cases, what looked like disgust.
A young noble woman whispered to her companion: "Why is he even here?"
An elderly court mage shook his head gravely: "The cursed blade... I had hoped we would never see its like again."
A military captain muttered to his aide: "Mark my words, that one will bring nothing but trouble."
Raven's face burned with embarrassment and growing anger. He hadn't asked for this. He hadn't asked to be torn away from his life, from Sarah, from everything he cared about. And now he was being treated like some kind of shameful mistake, given half the resources of the others and subjected to the barely concealed contempt of an entire royal court.
"Your first task," Magnus continued, addressing the four celebrated heroes while pointedly ignoring Raven, "is to venture into our capital city and acquire the gear you'll need. Get to know each other, form a party, and begin building your combat experience with some of the smaller threats in the area."
The king's eyes swept across Beau, Ayana, Axel, and Ava with obvious affection and pride. "The guards will direct you to the finest merchants and most suitable training grounds. Spare no expense , Eloria's resources are at your disposal."
Then, almost as an afterthought, his gaze flicked briefly to Raven. "You may... accompany them, if they'll have you."
The words hit Raven like a physical blow. Even the king's permission for him to join the others was phrased like a reluctant concession, as if his presence was something to be tolerated rather than welcomed.
Around the throne room, the celebration continued with renewed vigor. Nobles pressed forward to offer gifts and pledges of support to the four true heroes. Musicians struck up triumphant melodies, and servants began bringing out trays of fine wine and delicacies.
But none of it was for him.
As the crowd continued to swirl around his fellow heroes, Raven found himself standing alone near the edge of the great hall, his pathetic pouch of coins clutched in one hand and his cursed sword weighing heavy at his side. The golden flecks in his eyes seemed to dim as he watched the others bask in the adoration and support he would never receive.
For the first time since awakening in this strange new world, the full reality of his situation hit him with crushing force. He wasn't just the fifth hero , he was the unwanted hero, the mistake, the disappointment nobody knew how to handle.
And somewhere in another world, Sarah was probably still waiting for him to come back from getting some air, the ring he'd never had the chance to give her still sitting in his jacket pocket like a promise that would never be kept.
The weight of his cursed blade seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, as if the weapon itself was feeding off his despair and disappointment. Around him, the celebration of his fellow heroes continued, but Raven Hayes had never felt more alone.
The golden light in his eyes flickered like dying embers as he realized the terrible truth: in a world that desperately needed heroes, he was the one they wished had never come.