The goddess's sweet voice greeted us in a vast stone chamber, lit by warm, antique lanterns that felt plucked from a fantasy tale. "I have summoned you, great heroes, to save this world," she said, her white hair and golden eyes gleaming under a delicate tiara. Class 2-C, still reeling from the bus's blinding light, stood confused, some whispering, others frozen.
"Don't mess with me!" Oyamada roared, spit flying as he lunged toward the goddess, Vysis, who remained serene in her flowing robe. "Explain yourself!" he demanded, but her calm unnerved him. The chamber, spacious enough to dwarf our class, echoed with his voice, amplifying our disorientation.
"Is this a dream?" a boy muttered. "A shared one?" another asked. "Too real," someone countered. Girls panicked: "Where are we? Europe? Zimbabwe?" "My phone's dead!" "Where's my luggage?" I pinched my cheek—pain. This wasn't a dream, but the timing of this "summon" felt like a twisted salvation from whatever awaited on that bus.
RPG-like soldiers with spears and swords lined the room, their presence a silent warning. Resistance seemed futile, even for Kirihara's reflexes, Oyamada's strength, Sogou's kobujutsu, or the Takao sisters' rumored fighting skills. Zakurogi, our teacher, didn't resist either, just ogled Vysis's chest, proving he was the same lech in any world.
"Everyone, listen to Goddess-sama's explanation!" Zakurogi barked, posing as our leader. Vysis smiled neatly and began. The Demon Lord had resurrected, threatening the Allion Kingdom, a land that summons "chosen heroes" like us to defeat such evils, a tradition spanning centuries.
"Allion holds the secret to summoning heroes," Vysis said, her authority outranking even the king. Kirihara, ever bold, challenged her: "What if we don't cooperate?" Her reply was firm: "You cannot return home without defeating the Demon Lord." She revealed a black crystal necklace, explaining two ways to return—harvest the Demon Lord's heart or capture its released spirits in the crystal.
"That's just convenient for you!" Oyamada snapped, unappeased. Vysis knelt, pleading, "Please, Heroes-sama, save our world." His anger faltered, flattered by the title from such a beauty. "I'm a hero?" he mumbled, ego soothed. Praise worked wonders, especially on him.
Sogou raised her hand, polite as ever. "I'm Sogou Ayaka. We're ordinary students, untrained in combat. How can we be heroes?" Vysis's confident smile didn't waver. "Each of you has a unique power, unlike other humans," she assured, as if she'd anticipated every doubt.
Her calm felt rehearsed, like she'd guided countless heroes before us. The room buzzed with unease, but her words carried weight. Were we truly special, or just pawns in her game? The soldiers' watchful eyes and the crystal's dark glint suggested we'd soon find out.