"...It's another record-breaking week for Olympus Mount! That's seven S-Rank Rifts cleared in Manhattan, all thanks to Zeus. Not far behind, Asgard, led by Thor, just hit their fifth S-Rank Gate clearance this month. The two major guilds are currently locked in fierce competition for the monthly record. And over in the Sahara desert, a gathering of Egyptian Gods, led by Ra, is currently massing at the largest recorded Rift in human history: the Mythic Rank Abyss."
The TV screen went black mid-sentence.
"Hey, Dad! Come on!" Noah complained, his spoon halfway to his mouth. He set down the bowl of cereal with a clatter.
Lewis Chambers, a man whose hands were permanently stained with soot from working in divine forges, clipped a heavy leather backpack shut. "How can you stand that drivel?" Lewis asked, his voice rough and dismissive. "They're just a bunch of loudmouths who likes to brag."
"I was just about to finish that, you know," Noah grumbled, standing up and taking his plate to the kitchen sink.
Lewis followed him. "Don't you have work today?"
"Nah. It's my day off."
Lewis leaned against the counter, his massive arms crossed. "Then why don't you quit that janitor gig and start helping your mother out here?"
Noah gave a mocking, hollow laugh. "Yeah, like I'd be useful there. Mom's an Epic-rank Druid who summons Dryads for the heavy lifting. You're a Legendary Runesmith working for Hephaestus. Mina's about to get her S-Class Pyromancer certification this week. Even George snagged a Legendary Class. And me?" He spread his empty hands. "I'm the only one this universe decided to skip."
"There you go, yapping again," Lewis said, dismissing the whole speech as he headed for the door. "You'll awaken eventually. I'm just saying, your mother needs the company."
Noah sighed, following his father outside the small, pre-fab house.
"I'll try my best, but I can't quit my job, Dad. Even if I'm just a janitor for the UNPA, I'm contributing the only way I can," Noah insisted, then gave a small smirk. "Besides, I earn more monthly than any F-Rank Player who has to risk getting digested by acid slugs. Those newbies live off ramen and spawn camping goblins. I've got a steady paycheck, clean gear, and get to use the state-of-the-art training facility for free. A lot better than grinding goblins for pennies."
Lewis shook his head. He pulled a massive, ornate golden bracelet from his pocket and fastened it around his wrist. He didn't wait for Noah's reply. He simply raised the bracelet into the air.
"You'll get tired and bored eventually," Lewis said.
Before the last word had faded, the sky tore open with a blinding, crackling snap. A bolt of pure white lightning slammed down. The sound hit Noah first, a physical pressure wave. When he could see again, the spot where his father stood was empty, vaporized and already teleported back to the divine forges—for him, it was just another Tuesday.
Noah watched the empty space, then looked out at the vast, vibrant green cornfields. His mother, Iris, wearing a straw hat, waved from atop a colossal, moss-covered Treant she'd summoned, which moved with the slow, rumbling grace of a living tractor.
"This world," he muttered to himself. "Is anything but normal."
Noah collapsed onto the sofa, grabbing the remote. He flipped channels for a minute, seeing nothing but glorified Player coverage, before stopping on an old documentary.
The screen showed a large, featureless black pillar piercing the sky, surrounded by government tents. The anchor's voice was tense, filled with the fear. "So far, the scientists have learned nothing about the black spire's connection to the forcefield surrounding our upper atmosphere. But fortunately, the Olympus Pantheon, Lord Poseidon has given us some insight, to these mysterious structures."
The image cut to a colossal, twelve-foot-tall figure in shimmering golden scale armor, holding a trident.
"This is an Ascension Tower," the god's deep voice boomed. "Each one is responsible for protecting our planet from invaders from outer space. They are the source of the mana that made humanity Awaken. These spires give this civilization a chance to ascend to Godhood within a fixed allotment of time. Fail to meet the quota, and Earth resets. In our case, it was the Great Floo-"
Noah groaned, turning off the TV. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Failure to produce enough gods and everything resets. Why do they keep showing this clip from fifteen years ago, anyway? It just demoralizes humanity."
He stared at the ceiling, thinking. It had been a shock when the old gods started reappearing three years after the first Rifts opened, when humanity was already losing ground badly. The revelation that mere humans could reach that same level through the System had been the only thing that gave humanity the morale boost it needed. It also made sense that gods were appearing. The frequent Mythic Rank Rifts were opening up everywhere, spewing out things that didn't just kill you but violated the laws of geometry. Without the divine intervention, humanity wouldn't stand a chance. But the quota still stood. The Timer was still ticking down the thousand years of the Seventh Dryas Cycle.
The most frustrating part? The fact that almost sixty percent of humanity was now Awakened, walking around with neon signs over their heads announcing their purpose, and he was still the anomaly.
When can I get to use cool powers? he thought bitterly. Summoning a dragon? Controlling fire? He'd watched every Player guide on Youtube. He'd trained his body until he passed out, just to trigger a chance at Awakening. For some weird reason, he was still locked out.
Then, a gnarled root ascended from the floorboards behind his couch. A young female Dryad, looking like polished wood and living greenery, emerged.
"Sir Noah," she whispered.
Noah lazily said, "Yeah?"
"Lady Iris called for you."
"Yep, I'll be there. It's getting boring in here anyway."
The Dryad nodded, and the root retracted, sinking back beneath the wooden floor with barely a whisper of shifting earth.