Eliot Graves sat hunched over in his favorite worn-out chair, the dim, yellow light of his desk lamp casting shadows across the cluttered desk. It was one of those quiet, late-night moments where the world outside was still, and all that existed were the flickering words of his laptop screen. He was deep into his newest obsession: The Eternal War of Realms, a web novel that had taken hold of him for weeks now. His fingers drummed absently on the edge of his keyboard as he devoured yet another chapter.
He had spent countless hours lost in the twists and turns of the world within its pages, but tonight, something was different. Something wasn't quite right. He'd just finished reading a particularly tense battle scene and was about to scroll down to the next chapter when—
Wait, hold on…
Eliot blinked. His fingers froze mid-scroll, his eyes narrowing in confusion. The words on the screen seemed to… shimmer? It wasn't just the usual flicker of a page loading. No, this was something else—something deeper, more jarring. The words on the screen, the world inside his laptop, felt—real.
He leaned in closer, his glasses catching the faint glow of the monitor as he squinted at the text.
[Warning: Multiversal Shift Imminent]
The message didn't make sense. His heart skipped a beat. Was this some kind of prank? An ad? A weird fan-made overlay? Eliot shook his head, trying to clear the fog in his brain. He stared at the message again, still not believing it.
"No. No, this is impossible. Multiversal shift? That's not in the novel. I must be imagining things…"
He glanced around his room, half-expecting to see the walls closing in on him, or some surreal change to his surroundings. His room looked exactly as it should—stacks of unread books on the desk, an empty coffee mug he'd left beside his laptop, random papers strewn across the floor—but the air around him felt thick. Heavy. A buzzing, almost imperceptible hum began to vibrate through the ground beneath his feet, as though reality itself was beginning to unravel.
He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "This is ridiculous," he muttered aloud. "This isn't part of the story. I'm not even one of the main characters. I'm just some extra in the background."
He rolled his eyes, trying to laugh off the creeping unease. "Maybe I just need more sleep. Yeah, that's it. Maybe I'm just tired from too much reading and not enough rest."
But then—
The hum intensified. The air around him seemed to warp, and before Eliot could even process what was happening, the entire world around him began to bend, crack, and fold in on itself. The walls of his room seemed to melt into thin air. His vision spun, and the ground beneath him turned into a swirling vortex of colors that should not have existed—blues and reds and purples in chaotic streaks that bled into one another.
He gasped, stumbling backward as if his body instinctively knew something had gone horribly wrong. His fingers reached out to grab onto the desk, but it was gone—disappearing into the void before his hands could touch it.
"What the hell is happening?" Eliot's voice cracked, his breath catching in his throat. The room—his room—vanished entirely, replaced by an endless expanse of darkness and light. His heart raced, and his vision blurred, as if he were falling through the very fabric of reality itself.
And then—the light.
A sudden, blinding flash.
Eliot squinted, shielding his eyes instinctively. When the light faded, the room around him was gone, replaced by an alien landscape that made no sense. There was no sky. No ceiling. The world seemed unfinished, as if it were still being painted with an artist's final brush strokes. A jagged horizon stretched before him, with crackling rifts of energy pulsing in the air. The ground beneath his feet was unstable—sometimes smooth as marble, sometimes jagged like broken stone, sometimes shifting into green grass that swirled in unnatural patterns.
His pulse quickened as he took in his surroundings. A desolate plain stretched out in all directions, interrupted by floating rocks, impossible structures, and energy surges that looked like the last embers of a dying star. Nothing made sense.
"What is this place?" His voice was raw, a tremor in it as if he wasn't entirely sure whether he was speaking to the air, to himself, or to whatever had dragged him here.
Suddenly, a deep, resonant voice echoed inside his mind, an otherworldly presence that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"Eliot Graves. You have been chosen."
Eliot's eyes widened. The voice felt like it came from everywhere—an ancient, cosmic entity whose words rippled through the air like a thunderclap.
"Chosen? For what?" he demanded, his voice rising in frustration. "This has to be some sort of joke. I don't belong here. I'm not some chosen hero in this story. I'm just a guy who reads novels in his bedroom!"
He looked down at his hands, as if somehow expecting them to be glowing with some newfound power. But no, they were just his normal, somewhat scrawny hands. Nothing special. Nothing changed.
A faint hum vibrated through his chest, and a translucent screen suddenly flickered into view, appearing mid-air in front of him like a holographic display. The text that appeared on it was as clear as day:
[Omniscient Interface Activated]
[Current World: The Eternal War of Realms]
[User: Eliot Graves]
[Status: Background Character]
[Objective: Survive]
"Wait, what?" Eliot blinked rapidly, his heart thudding. His eyes darted back and forth between the screen and the world around him, still trying to process what was happening.
"Okay, this is insane," he muttered to himself, taking a step back. "This has to be some kind of prank. Am I on some hidden camera show? Did I accidentally sign up for some weird game?"
But as much as he tried to rationalize it, a part of him deep down knew it wasn't a joke. His pulse thrummed in his ears, the reality around him too vivid, too real.
"Background character?" He scoffed. "What the hell does that even mean? I'm not a background character. I'm not supposed to be here at all!"
The interface flickered slightly, as if reacting to his outburst. Then, with a sense of finality, a new line of text appeared:
[Warning: Humanity Level Dropping]
[Current Level: 99%]
"Humanity… dropping?" Eliot's voice wavered. He glanced at the screen, bewildered. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? My humanity's fine. I'm fine."
He rubbed his forehead, a strange unease settling over him as he glanced back at the flickering screen. The words didn't make any sense. There was no logical explanation for any of it, but somehow, it was real.
As if to drive home the point, a deep, cold voice echoed again in his mind, more intrusive this time. It reverberated in his skull, like an ancient deity speaking from the farthest reaches of time.
"The cost will be steep, Eliot Graves. Your humanity will slip away with each use. The knowledge you will gain will come at a price."
"What?!" Eliot screamed aloud, his hands trembling at his sides. "I don't want any knowledge! I just want to go back home! I didn't ask for any of this!"
The voice fell silent, but the hum in the air grew louder, more insistent. Eliot was about to shout again when—
"You will be given the power to understand this world in its entirety. You will gain knowledge of the fabric of reality itself, the delicate balance of realms, the lives and deaths of gods. But remember this: With every use of this power, you will lose a piece of what makes you human."
Eliot's eyes widened. His mind reeled as images flashed before his eyes. Memories of battles he'd never fought, of powerful beings locked in eternal conflict, of worlds colliding and falling apart. His head swam with the sheer weight of the knowledge being thrust into him, like someone was cramming entire libraries of forbidden knowledge into his skull.
His breath caught, and he staggered back, the pain almost unbearable. He pressed his hand to his chest as if to hold himself together. His mind felt like it was being torn apart by the flood of information.
"Stop! I don't want this! I—"
But before he could finish, the screen flickered again. Another line of text appeared:
[Affirmative: New Power Acquired]
[Power: Omniscient Knowledge]
[Cost: Gradual Loss of Humanity]
Eliot blinked again, the words nearly impossible to comprehend in his state of shock.
"Omniscient knowledge? Are you… seriously kidding me right now?" His voice trembled with a mix of disbelief and growing panic. "I don't want god-like knowledge or cosmic powers. I just want to go home. I just want to wake up from this nightmare."
But the voice in his mind didn't respond, leaving him standing alone in the shifting, impossible landscape. It was almost as if the silence itself was laughing at him, mocking his attempts to escape.
Okay, okay. Think, Eliot. Think. His mind raced to process the situation. If the text on the screen was to be believed, he wasn't just lost in a dream. He was stuck in the world of The Eternal War of Realms, a place where gods clashed, worlds were destroyed, and the stakes were higher than anything he'd ever imagined.
How is this possible? He thought, trying to ground himself in the logical, reasonable part of his mind that had been the anchor to his life. This isn't supposed to happen. This isn't real.
But then the cold, unrelenting reality of his situation hit him again. The screen, glowing and ever-present, was a constant reminder that there was no turning back. No getting out of this.
Eliot looked at the interface once more. The flashing message—the one he still couldn't fully comprehend—seemed to mock him, its cold simplicity belying the existential weight behind it.
Power. Knowledge. Humanity. The cost. What do I do with this?
He wasn't sure how much time had passed. He could feel the crushing weight of the world pressing down on him, the pressure in his chest growing. The ground beneath him seemed to tilt again, warping as the interface slowly rotated in the air, hovering just out of reach, like some cruel reminder of his helplessness.
His thoughts spiraled—there had to be a way out of this. There had to be some kind of loophole or trick. But deep down, he knew that whatever had pulled him into this mess had no intention of letting him go that easily.
Suddenly, the world before him rippled like a shattered mirror, and the ground beneath his feet cracked open with a deafening sound, sending debris flying into the air. The space around him twisted, the energy surges increasing as cracks in the very fabric of reality began to open.
It wasn't just his surroundings that were shifting. He could feel something inside him stir—something that felt ancient, cosmic. Something that felt like it was waking up after a long, restless sleep.
The voice returned, deeper this time, as though it came from within the very core of the universe.
"Your time has come, Eliot Graves. The threads of fate twist and turn. Your purpose in this world is beginning."
Eliot clenched his fists, sweat beading on his forehead. "Purpose? What purpose? I'm just some guy in the background! I don't belong here. I'm not—"
But the voice silenced him, not with words, but with a crushing force. The pressure in his chest became unbearable, as if his very soul was being stretched and pulled in every direction.
He fell to his knees, gasping for breath, feeling his heart racing. It was as though something inside him was being torn apart, piece by piece. And yet, even as his body and mind screamed in protest, he felt something else. A flicker of power, a surge of awareness, flooding his mind. The knowledge that had been granted to him wasn't just a gift—it was a curse.
His body quivered, and a sharp, painful cry escaped his lips. "What do you want from me? What is this power?"
The response was immediate, the voice so close now that it felt like it was inside his skull. "You will soon understand. You have been chosen for this journey. The multiverse collapses, and you will play your part. You are no longer just a background character."
Eliot closed his eyes, holding his head in his hands, trying to process the overwhelming flood of thoughts and visions that threatened to overwhelm him. He could feel the knowledge coursing through him now—snapshots of entire universes, the rise and fall of empires, the stories of people who had lived and died across realms.
It was all so much. So vast.
His mind screamed for relief.
But instead of pain, instead of despair, something else began to surface.
The knowledge—the power—began to settle. He could see the world around him now, not just as it was, but as it could be—every possible outcome unfolding in a delicate web of choices. Every moment, every decision, had infinite ramifications. The multiverse was alive, vibrant, chaotic. And Eliot could now see it all.
He gasped for air, the sheer scale of it suffocating. "I can see everything. I can see it all..."
The screen flickered one last time. It was the same message, but somehow it felt different now—darker, more ominous:
[Affirmative: New Power Acquired]
[Power: Omniscient Knowledge]
[Cost: Gradual Loss of Humanity]
[Current Humanity Level: 97%]
A dark chuckle echoed in the corners of his mind, and he realized with a sickening clarity that this was only the beginning. The cost of his power had begun to take hold—he could feel it. His humanity was slipping away with each passing second, and the more he used the knowledge at his disposal, the further he would drift from the person he once was.
This isn't me, Eliot thought, his voice trembling in the silence that followed. I was just a guy who liked to read...
But now, in this world, he was something else.
He rose unsteadily to his feet, shaking as the weight of what he had become pressed down on him. The vast, strange world that stretched before him felt both infinite and constricting at the same time. He was no longer just a reader, no longer just an observer.
He was part of the story now. A story whose threads were already unraveling.
And somehow, he was at the center of it.