Alvin sat cross-legged in the dimly lit room of the orphanage, his long sky-blue hair trailing over his shoulders as a soft glow emanated from the arcane circle surrounding him. He had just wrestled the World Laws into submission, and now, it was finally going to spill its secrets.
"Alright, Alvin Bencio," the World Laws whispered, its voice dripping with bitterness. "You've twisted my fabric and defied my nature, so now you will hear the plot I've woven. But know this: knowledge comes with consequences."
Alvin rolled his eyes, leaning back casually. "Oh, spare me the ominous warnings. We've done the whole 'cosmic consequences' speech a hundred times. Let's get on with it, shall we? The apocalypse isn't going to wait for your dramatics."
The World Laws hesitated, as if gathering itself, then began.
"The main players in this world's fate have already begun their journey. The first is a young man, born with latent powers, who—"
"Wait, wait, wait," Alvin interrupted, waving his hand in the air dismissively. "Let me guess. He's special? Parents tragically dead? Probably some kind of farm boy who dreams of bigger things?" He chuckled darkly. "Tell me he's at least got an original backstory."
The World Laws paused, clearly annoyed. "His backstory is not of your concern, Alvin. He is the one favored by the Dragon Bloodline. When the apocalypse comes, he will awaken as the Dragonborn and—"
"Dragonborn?" Alvin burst out laughing, almost tipping backward. "Let me guess, he's going to ride into battle on a flaming dragon, scales glistening in the sunlight, while everyone chants his name?"
"He will be pivotal to the survival of this world," the World Laws said sternly. "The Dragon Bloodline is ancient and powerful, granting him unmatched strength, speed, and the ability to manipulate fire."
Alvin tapped his chin thoughtfully, still smirking. "Wow. Strength, speed, and fire control? How... revolutionary. I've definitely never heard of anyone with those powers before. So creative." His voice was soaked in sarcasm.
The World Laws grumbled, its voice deepening in frustration. "You mock what you do not understand. The Dragon Bloodline is not to be taken lightly. This power is a gift from the ancient dragons that once ruled the skies. He will wield their legacy."
"Oh, I'm sure he'll be very impressive," Alvin said, his smirk widening. "After all, nothing screams 'original hero' like being handed power on a silver platter. Let me guess, he won't even have to work for it. Just wake up one day, look in the mirror, and bam—instant dragon powers. No training arc necessary, huh?"
The World Laws' silence spoke volumes.
"Thought so," Alvin muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "I mean, where's the fun if the hero actually has to earn his power? Just give him dragon blood, call him 'chosen,' and let the story unfold like every other cliché." He sighed dramatically. "Gods, it's exhausting being the only one around here with any sense of style."
"You may mock, Alvin, but his role in this apocalypse will be crucial," the World Laws snapped. "The Dragonborn will lead the remaining survivors, protect them, and—"
"Blah, blah, blah. Lead the survivors. Protect the weak. Fight off the zombie hordes while looking heroically tragic. Yes, yes, I've seen this movie before." Alvin waved a hand lazily, feigning a yawn. "Can we get to the next character already? Maybe the supporting cast will have something more interesting."
There was a brief pause, and the World Laws continued, its tone clipped. "The second protagonist, a young man as well, is favored by the Spacial Alien Bloodline—"
Alvin's eyebrows shot up, a mischievous grin curling at the corners of his lips. "Spacial Alien Bloodline, you say? Now this is getting juicy. Do tell, oh great World Laws, what wonders does this alien-infused hero bring to the table?"
"His bloodline grants him control over space itself," the World Laws explained. "He can create portals, teleport across vast distances, and manipulate gravity."
Alvin snorted. "Portals? So, essentially, he's going to spend half the story teleporting out of danger while everyone else actually has to deal with problems. Convenient. Must be nice to just snap your fingers and poof away whenever things get tough."
The World Laws, clearly getting fed up, hissed. "His powers will be critical for the survival of humanity. His spatial manipulation will allow the survivors to travel between safe zones, to escape overwhelming threats—"
"Oh, I'm sure he'll be great at that," Alvin said dryly. "What's the plan? He's just going to open portals, step through, and everyone else will cheer because 'Oh my gods, he saved us again by moving us six feet to the left.' Truly, a hero for the ages." Alvin clasped his hands dramatically, pretending to be in awe.
"You have no respect for the role these chosen ones will play," the World Laws snapped, its voice darkening.
"Respect?" Alvin raised an eyebrow. "Oh, no, I have plenty of respect. For original ideas, well-thought-out characters, and actual effort. This whole 'Chosen One' gig just doesn't impress me. You're telling me these guys get dragon blood, alien powers, and world-altering abilities, and they don't even have to suffer for it? Meanwhile, I'm stuck babysitting a bunch of orphans while you monologue about their destined greatness." Alvin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, real fair, world."
"They are necessary for the survival of this realm," the World Laws growled, clearly running out of patience. "They have been chosen because they are destined for greatness—"
"Greatness, you say? Ah, yes, the universal get-out-of-jail-free card for protagonists." Alvin leaned back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Meanwhile, I'll just be over here doing the actual hard work—training a bunch of magicless children to survive an apocalypse. No big deal. You know, just Alvin things."
"You are here for a reason as well, Alvin Bencio," the World Laws hissed, its voice tight with frustration. "Do not think yourself exempt from the grand design."
Alvin chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "Oh, I know I'm part of the grand design. The wildcard, right? The wrench in your well-oiled machine of destiny. And trust me, I'll play my part beautifully, even if it's not the one you had in mind. But let's be real for a second—between Mr. Dragonborn and Captain Portal, I'm starting to think the bar for 'greatness' is set a little low."
The World Laws was silent for a moment, as if debating whether to respond to Alvin's jabs. Eventually, it spoke again, more calmly this time.
"Their powers will be the key to humanity's survival."
Alvin raised an eyebrow. "Oh, of course. Because nothing says 'survival' like spitting fire and teleporting to safety. What's next? Is there a third protagonist who can control the weather? Maybe another one who can talk to animals? Ooh, or better yet, how about one who can just reverse time and fix all your plot holes?" He grinned wickedly. "Now that would be impressive."
"There is no need for mockery, Alvin," the World Laws said, its voice firm. "You may not appreciate their roles now, but when the time comes—"
"When the time comes, I'll be laughing my pretty little head off as I watch Mr. Dragonborn and the Alien Prince stumble through their 'heroic' destinies while I clean up their messes." Alvin smirked. "Let's face it, they'll probably end up needing me to save them. Again. And again. And again."
The World Laws' exasperation was almost palpable.
"You will see, Alvin. They are crucial. And so are you, though you refuse to admit it."
Alvin waved dismissively. "Crucial, schmucial. Just remember, when they inevitably fail their first big test, I'll be right here, not so humbly reminding you that I called it. And you, oh great World Laws, can sit in your cosmic corner and rethink your life choices."
"This conversation is over," the World Laws said coldly, its voice final.
Alvin grinned, satisfied. "Oh, it was over the moment you opened your mouth. But thanks for the entertainment. You're really growing on me, you know? Like a particularly annoying rash."
The World Laws faded, leaving Alvin alone once again. He stood up, brushing off his robes with a smirk.
"Well," he muttered to himself, "That was a waste of cosmic energy. But at least it was fun."
He glanced toward the living room, where the children were still playing, oblivious to the chaos that awaited them. Alvin's smirk softened ever so slightly.
"Guess I'd better get these little monsters ready. The apocalypse waits for no one—not even the Dragonborn and his sidekick."