Alesha had a dream. She's had dreams like it before, where she was mostly asleep but just barely awake enough to make decisions to alter the outcome of the dream. Most of the time, in such dreams, she had some kind of plot authority; she could say, "no, I don't like that" and rewrite portions of the dream to better fit the kind of story she wanted it to be. In this one, however, there was a sense of powerlessness. Sometimes, herself in the dream would do things that she didn't agree with, and instead of being able to rewind time and rewrite history, her decisions remained as they were originally. It was a strange fusion of being able to choose and having her choices made for her.
Of course, in this dream, she wasn't herself. It was rare that she dreamt of being herself as she really was, anyways, so that wasn't anything new. The strange part was how lucid and complete her new identity felt. This dream's "Alesha" was a nobleman named Derek E. Remington, a proud man who had returned from death and now needed to participate in a deadly competition between Apostles of mysterious "Saviors" in order to retain his newly regained life. He had a wife and two kids, his brother and supposedly his nanny had betrayed him, and he was stubborn to a fault when it mattered. He was a man who got things done.
The sheer amount of detail this dream identity of hers had was surprising. Of course, she wasn't really conscious enough to process that, but some part of her mind could tell that something was different about this dream.
As her thoughts slowly mulled over the subject and began to approach the start of a discovery, consciousness returned with a jolt.
Alesha opened her eyes, blinking against the light. She looked around in confusion. Where was she? How had she gotten here?
She stood in a large, rectangular room with vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows, through which light shone in many colors. The building was constructed of precisely cut marble, including the floor, on which was carved a giant, circular pattern inlaid with gold and covered with some kind of hard, transparent material that reminded Alesha of either glass or quartz. It was well-polished -- enough to be see-through, but not so much as to take away the friction necessary for safe use as flooring. It was magnificent.
She wasn't the only one present, either. As she looked around, she saw dozens of students in unfamiliar school uniforms; the girls wore some sort of sailor-like tops with loose ties and short skirts, and the boys wore black, button-up shirts with high collars and matching pants. Murmurs of confusion and dismay rippled through the collection of students.
Looking down at herself, Alesha realized that she was also in one of those sailor-girl-like uniforms. How had that happened? In addition, had she been sleeping while standing? What was going on?
[Ughhhhh,] an androgynous voice groaned in her mind. Rogork!
Rogork, what's going-
Before she could finish her mental question, a single, loud CLAP! silenced the crowd and drew the attention of everyone present.
At one end of the grand room, on an elevated platform she had failed to notice earlier, stood a wizard in a wide-brimmed, pointy hat and elegant navy robes. His hands were still together after having finished clapping. To his left stood a king in splendid armor, hands resting on the hilt of a marvelous sword in front of him, and a queen dressed in an opulent dress, gently grabbing the inside of the king's elbow. To his right stood a balding priest, a knight-looking fellow, and a man holding a pillow with a clear crystal ball on it.
In a loud voice that echoed clearly through the open area, the wizard proclaimed, "Welcome, Heroes from another world! I know you must be confused, as you were summoned here so suddenly. Even so, we must beg of you to heed our pleas for aid!"
"Our world is currently in danger of destruction! The pinnacle of all evil, the Demon King, has risen once again and only you, Heroes from another world, have the power to stop him!"
Gasps and exclamations of surprise came from several people. "What? The Demon King?" "Isn't that super cliche?" "Can I go home?" "Is this Zorhellian's doing?"
"It seems that some of you wish to return home," the wizard's voice boomed. "Please rest assured that once the Demon King is slain, you will be able to do so. The spell for opening a portal to return you to your own world requires Demon King Essence."
Alesha narrowed her eyes. How very convenient for them. They could summon Heroes to defeat the Demon King, then harness their desire to go back as motivation to comply with the kingdom's goal. She wasn't usually this suspicious of others, but the nanny's betrayal in her dream still stung. Was it stupid to allow the events in a dream to influence her perception of people in reality? Maybe. But on some level, she knew that she'd always been a bit on the naive side. Maybe this was a good thing.
"Now, Heroes!" He continued once the few ripples of reaction died down. "Everything will be explained shortly. However, before we continue, let us assess your Classes and Skills. When you were summoned, each of you was assigned a Class and given Skills according to your innate nature and characteristics. These are blessings bestowed upon Heroes by the Goddess Helia to aid in your noble quest to defeat the Demon King.
"Unlike the residents of our world, you Heroes have the ability to enhance your strength via a special process known as Leveling Up! Your Classes and Skills will help you do so efficiently. I've been told that the experience is described as being very similar to what you Heroes call 'video games.' Now, Heroes, please line up and prepare to have your Classes and Skills Appraised!"