Chapter 1: Cafeteria Chaos

"Peter! Over here, man!"

I had just left the cafeteria line, tray in hand, carrying my favorite meal—one of those infamous cafeteria burgers. The ones with the sketchy gray patty squished between two damp buns. The kind you could eat four or five of without ever actually tasting a thing.

The hall was packed, the usual buzz of lunchtime chaos filling the air. Our table, however, was taken. Occupied by a group of wide-eyed students on a school tour, probably getting their first real taste of high school.

I made my way over and dropped into a seat across from Trevor.

"The others coming?"

He shook his head, blond hair shifting slightly. "Don't know. Maybe?"

I took a bite of my savory garbage and caught the expected look of disgust from him.

"Dude, I'll never understand how you can eat those."

"They're good," I argued.

"No… no, they aren't."

Ignoring him, I pulled out my phone and set it on the table, still chewing.

I mean, come on, he was basically just eating lettuce. What right did he have to judge?

"You see the match?"

"The recent one?" He shook his head.

"No, there's one happening right now."

With well-practiced ease, I swiped through my phone, pulling up the latest combat league match.

I turned the screen sideways so we could both watch as Trevor sighed.

"Peter, I'll never get how you—" he gestured at my wiry and thi—pristine physique, "—got so into these fights."

"I can dream, man."

The first round was already over, but the second was just starting as the camera zoomed in on the caged ring.

The announcer's voice blared to life.

[Oh, what a kick! The Monk is really putting pressure on The Hammer!]

A lithe young man launched himself into the air, unleashing a barrage of kicks against a figure built like a tank. One landed square across his jaw, sending The Hammer reeling.

Trevor chuckled. "These names… ridiculous."

*Shh.*

I hushed him, eager to see the rest of the round.

The Hammer recovered just as The Monk charged again, this time going for a sweep.

[Ooooh! Bad move! Getting low to the floor is our favorite grappler's specialty!]

The larger man crouched, anticipating the attack, and caught The Monk's leg with ease.

"Wow, already over, I guess," Trevor observed.

[How will he get out of this? Can we call it after just two rounds?!]

"He'll get out," I said with full confidence. No way my idol was getting locked down like that. Not after all the fights I'd seen him come back from. The man was a living legend.

Trevor snickered. "Whatever, fanboy."

The Hammer moved to secure a leg lock, pinning The Monk beneath his massive frame but, of course, I knew this fighter better than anyone.

Then it happened. A sudden surge of strength from somewhere. The Monk's legs tensed. His arms swelled to a size that shouldn't have been physically possible.

"Gross."

"Dude?" I shot Trevor a look. He never just watches.

The Monk wrenched his leg free, grabbed the sides of the man crushing him, and moved.

The sight was almost comical, like an ant lifting a boulder. The Hammer was off the ground, balanced on two of The Monk's arms.

But before the fight could be decided,

"AHHHHH!" The clatter of trays and a girl's scream.

Not the kind of shriek from a friend sneaking up on you. Not the kind you laugh off with a quickly beating heart.

This was different, this was real. True, pure, untainted terror.

A raw, gut-wrenching terror that only top-tier horror movie actors could pull off.

Then another sound. Deep. Penetrating. It swallowed every other noise in the cafeteria.

The world paused, held still as it ruptured.

Like a textbook tearing in half, the first one appeared. Its edges shimmered, twisting like liquid metal before settling into an eerie stillness.

A rift.

It hung there, unreal, expanding yet motionless. At first, harmless, just a distortion in space, like mirages rising off hot cement. Then the air itself seemed to bend, warping reality as if the cafeteria were being pulled inside out.

Then… the pull.

It started small. Just some loose papers, a tray, a girl's food, her hair tugged slightly toward it.

Then another rift opened.

And another.

The chaos spread.

Footsteps pounded. Screams echoed. The sound of bodies hitting the floor like a pile of bowling balls.

"—er!"

The rift nearest to us widened, and I saw people who had tripped, struggling and scrambling, then suddenly pulled in.

"—TER!"

"HELP M—"

A freshman, just a couple years younger than us, vanished into the void before he could finish his plea.

"PETER! WAKE UP!"

Trevor was in front of me now, shaking me hard.

My eyes widened in realization as I stood, only pausing to glance at my leftovers, defenseless, helplessly sucked from my tray.

A day full of tragedies.

The suction came from all sides. Where can we run? Even a single step in the wrong direction could pull us in.

We were standing in a sweet spot.

Trevor looked around, panic creeping into his expression. "I—I don't know."

As if testing my theory, he took two cautious steps in what seemed like a clear path—only to skid, his feet nearly slipping out from under him. He yanked himself back to the table, fingers clinging to the edge.

"Maybe we can just wa—"

Two simultaneous tears sounded.

One I saw right behind Trevor.

The other I heard directly behind me.

"Tre—"

I couldn't finish before a white light engulfed me.

A force unlike anything I'd ever felt wrenched me forward. I didn't know how it didn't tear every molecule in my body apart.

Colors swirled in a confusing haze. Crushing pain. Unbearable heat. An overwhelming pressure, suffocating, preventing any screams from escaping.

Everything all at once slammed into me like a storm.

And then, suddenly… it stopped.

I was alone.

The only sound in the flickering room was the slow, rhythmic drip of water.

*Drip.* *Drip.*

"Ughh…"

My heart pounded violently in my chest, my palms slick with sweat. The pain had vanished, but its effects still lingered.

I looked around. Barrels, crates, a lone sconce holding a flickering torch, barely providing enough light to make out the most basic shapes.

"Breathe… just breathe."

I tried to calm my bouncing nerves, but… yeah, not happening.

There was an archway in the small room leading outside.

I pushed myself to my feet and walked toward a crate. Something was sticking out from it. Cylindrical objects.

Swords.

A crate full of medieval-looking weapons.

I turned to another, shields. Another... leathers.

"What the heck…"

My heart pounded faster. My body felt hot.

Something was very wrong.

The walls. The ceiling. Stone and wood.

The sconces flickered with embering light.

No electricity. No navigation tablets on the walls. No computers anywhere.

A thought crept into my mind. Could I hav—no. No. Impossible. I shook it away.

"HELLO? ANYONE?" Yeah, I was definitely starting to freak out.

My brain struggled to process the journey. Gross lunch patty. Crazy portal travel. Ancient-looking storehouse.

I needed a distraction. Something to ground me.

I checked myself for injuries... nothing. I felt fine, but a thorough examination couldn't hurt.

Oh... My clothes. My shoes!

They're in tatters!

"Coooome ooooon," I groaned. Just my luck. At least the important parts were still covered.

I glanced back at the crate of leathers. There had to be something in there my size, right?

I wasn't exactly a fan of shopping for clothes, but right now, swapping out my shredded outfit for some medieval armor was oddly comforting. I pulled on a chest piece, some knee guards, whatever seemed to fit.

Not the most comfortable gear. Kind of scratchy. Worn, but still intact.

"Better than what I had."

I searched for shoes next.

And to my horror, sandals. Only leather-strapped sandals.

I took a deep breath. "Alright. Destroyed sneakers or newish footwear." Saying it out loud made the decision easier.

I peeled off my socks, because socks with sandals? Absolutely not.

*Clank.* *Clank.*

Footsteps. Echoing rhythmically across the stone.

Finally. Someone that could help.

"Hello! I'm over here!"

The footsteps picked up speed, closing in fast.

And before I knew it, a person appeared.

"DON'T MOVE!"

My eyes adjusted to the dim light. Was that… a knight?

I took a step back, every alarm in my brain firing. My breath hitched. My legs screamed at me to run. This whole situation, everything around me, screamed a message I did not want to accept.

His hand hovered near the hilt of his blade, fingers feathering it around the plate armor.

This wasn't impossible. I saw the rift open. I felt myself get pulled through.

I had read stories. Played games. Watched movies. This kind of thing only happened in those. The setting, the atmosphere, the full-plated knight standing in front of me like he walked straight out of a fantasy novel.

It told me exactly where I was.

Or rather… where I wasn't.

I wasn't in my world anymore.