Adrian trudged through the winding stone corridors of the castle, the echo of his own footsteps bouncing back at him from the high, vaulted ceiling. He still couldn't believe he was here—wherever here even was. Only an hour had passed since he'd woken up in this world, but it already felt like days.
Meric, his strange new guide, moved swiftly ahead, his dark robe trailing behind him like a shadow. Adrian barely kept up, his legs still shaky from whatever spell had transported him. His mind raced with questions, but each time he opened his mouth, Meric only waved him silent.
"Patience," Meric murmured over his shoulder, "is the first lesson you must learn in this world."
Adrian swallowed the urge to protest, biting back the dozen questions that crowded his mind. They climbed a spiraling staircase, the ancient stones worn smooth underfoot, and finally emerged into a circular room at the top of one of the castle's towers. Large windows opened on all sides, offering a view of the landscape beyond—a land that looked like it had leapt straight from the pages of some epic fantasy novel.
But Adrian's gaze quickly dropped to the room itself. Strange symbols were etched into the stone floor, forming a complex circle in the room's center, similar to the one that had summoned him. Torches along the walls flared to life as they entered, filling the space with a warm, flickering light.
Meric stopped in the middle of the circle and turned to face him. "Now," he said, his voice calm but carrying a weight that made Adrian's skin prickle. "We begin."
"Begin what, exactly?" Adrian asked, clutching the leather pouch that hung at his side. He hadn't dared open it, afraid of what strange artifacts or mystical items it might contain.
Meric raised a hand, and the room seemed to shift slightly, the air growing thick with an unseen energy. "Before you can face any threat, you must understand the power that flows through you."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "You mean… magic?"
Meric nodded. "Every hero summoned to Lunaris carries a unique power within them, a strength chosen by the summoning spell. This strength is tied to your true self, to your purpose, and to the path you must walk here." His eyes glinted. "For you, Adrian Woods, that strength lies in the balance between precision and intuition."
"Uh, sure." Adrian scratched his head. "And what exactly does that mean?"
Meric's lips quirked in a faint smile. "It means your power is still dormant, but we will awaken it soon enough." He gestured to a shelf on the far wall, where an assortment of objects rested—a sword, a staff, a pair of leather gloves, and a thin silver dagger. "Choose one."
Adrian hesitated, looking over the items. Each seemed to radiate its own energy, pulling at him in different ways. His eyes lingered on the sword—sleek and powerful-looking, exactly the sort of thing a hero would carry. But something felt off, as if the weapon were rejecting him.
Then his gaze fell on the gloves, simple but well-worn, each finger reinforced with small metal plates. Something about them called to him. They were unassuming, yet sturdy, meant for work as much as for battle. Without thinking, he reached out and picked them up. The leather felt strangely warm to the touch, almost like they were alive.
"Interesting choice," Meric said, watching him closely. "The Gloves of Calculation. They are tools of precision, able to enhance a mind honed for analysis."
Adrian blinked, turning the gloves over in his hands. "Calculation?"
Meric nodded. "These gloves amplify mental acuity, allowing you to visualize the hidden structure of things—their strengths, weaknesses, even the flow of magical energy." His eyes gleamed with approval. "Fitting, for one who managed numbers and data in your world."
Adrian couldn't suppress a small, self-conscious chuckle. "Yeah, well, I didn't exactly imagine my 'power' would involve… accounting."
"Do not underestimate it," Meric warned. "Calculation can mean much more than numbers. With these gloves, you will be able to see beyond what the eyes reveal, to find patterns others miss. It is a skill that may prove your greatest asset."
Adrian looked at the gloves, trying to imagine how something so mundane could be powerful. He slipped them on, and the moment his fingers found their places, a faint tingling sensation spread up his arms. The room around him seemed to sharpen, the lines and shapes of objects taking on a strange clarity. He blinked, and for an instant, he saw Meric surrounded by a faint web of energy, threads reaching outward like the spokes of a wheel.
"Whoa…"
Meric's expression softened. "Do you feel it?"
Adrian nodded, though he struggled to put the sensation into words. "It's like… I can see things differently. Like everything's connected, but with patterns I couldn't see before."
"Precisely," Meric said. "This is the foundation of your power, Adrian. The ability to read the flow of energy and intention in all things. And with time, you may learn to manipulate it."
A thrill of excitement shot through him, mingling with a new sense of responsibility. This wasn't just some strange adventure anymore—this was his reality, his new purpose. He wasn't just some guy trying to make rent; he was someone who held a piece of this world's fate in his hands.
"Good." Meric stepped back, his expression shifting to one of concentration. "Then let us test it."
He raised his hands, and a shimmering, spectral figure appeared before Adrian. It was roughly humanoid, made of pale light, and it moved with a fluid, unsettling grace. Adrian's heart skipped a beat.
"Wait," he said, holding up a hand. "I've never fought anything in my life. Can't we start with, I don't know, a target dummy?"
Meric smiled, though there was no humor in it. "You must learn by doing, Adrian. This specter will not harm you—much."
Adrian barely had time to protest before the figure lunged at him. His instincts screamed at him to dodge, and he flung himself to the side, feeling the spectral energy brush past him. He staggered, catching himself just in time to see the figure whirl around, preparing another strike.
And then, something clicked. He could see it—the threads of energy around the specter, like strings connecting its limbs to an invisible puppet master. For a split second, he saw a weakness in the pattern, a spot where the threads were faint, fragile.
Without thinking, he lunged forward, his gloved hand passing through the spot. The specter recoiled, its form flickering, and it staggered back. Adrian felt a thrill of triumph, but it was short-lived; the figure recovered, and it was coming for him again.
Meric's voice echoed in his mind, calm but firm. "See the pattern, Adrian. Move with it."
He took a deep breath, centering himself, and the world seemed to slow. He watched the specter, not just its movements but the energy that pulsed around it. With each attack, he saw a way to deflect, to avoid, to disrupt.
In a matter of moments, he wasn't just dodging—he was predicting. He ducked and spun, his movements guided by the subtle shifts in energy. And finally, with a calculated strike to the specter's core, he felt the energy dissipate, and the figure shattered like glass, fading into the air.
He stood there, panting, his hands trembling but his mind alive with a sense of accomplishment. For the first time since arriving in this strange world, he felt… capable.
Meric approached him, his expression unreadable. "Impressive, Adrian. You learn quickly."
Adrian exhaled, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Guess accounting wasn't such a bad background, after all."
Meric's eyes twinkled with something like approval. "Welcome to Lunaris, Adrian Woods. Your journey has truly begun."