The throne room of Eldoria was filled with tension. The air shimmered with magical energy, swirling in vibrant hues as the kingdom's greatest mages and wizards chanted in unison. On the stone pedestal at the far end of the room, Princess Seraphina stood, her hand trembling slightly as she clutched the ancient scroll. The ritual had begun.
"Our ancestors once summoned heroes to defeat the darkness," the Archmage intoned, his voice reverberating through the stone walls. "It is time we call upon the greatest hero the world has ever known."
Seraphina's mind raced. The Demon King was close—too close—and their forces were dwindling. They had no hope of defeating him with mere swords and magic. This summoning was their last, desperate hope.
The air hummed, and the spell intensified, shimmering in iridescent waves. The room seemed to shrink, the walls pulsing with power as the summoning portal began to form—a swirling vortex of light that would bring the chosen hero into their world.
Seraphina could barely hold her breath. "Please, please let this work..."
The portal crackled, sending sparks of light across the room. With a thunderous boom, it opened wide, revealing a dark, swirling void. The mages' chants grew louder, their voices rising to a crescendo.
And then, with a sudden pop, a figure tumbled through the portal and crashed to the floor, sprawling out in an ungraceful heap.
The entire room fell silent.
A man lay face down on the cold marble floor, completely still. He was dressed in an outfit that looked nothing like the armor or robes of a hero—cargo shorts, a bright Hawaiian shirt, and flip-flops. A can of soda rolled out of his hand, landing with a soft clink on the floor beside him.
The Princess blinked, her mouth agape. "This... this is our hero?"
The man groaned, rubbing his head as he slowly got up, blinking in confusion. "Oof… my head. Where am I? This ain't the beach, that's for sure."
His accent was thick, unmistakably from somewhere… odd. The wizards gasped, but no one dared to speak. The summoning had clearly gone wrong—he looked nothing like the majestic, powerful hero they had envisioned. He wasn't even wearing armor.
The man stood up, dusted himself off, and looked around, utterly unphased by the grandeur of the throne room or the gasping onlookers. Instead, he scratched his head and took a long swig from his soda.
"Okay, okay, let me get this straight…" he muttered, looking at the Princess and the gathered council. "I was just at home, chilling, watching a few surf videos, and now I'm here in some medieval fantasy land with a bunch of wizards and a princess? Yeah, this is definitely not Miami."
Seraphina's eyes twitched. "W-What is your name, Hero?"
The man stared at her for a moment, then glanced around the room with a grin. "The name's Kyle McGee. Kyle McGee, your local Florida man, at your service." He gave a half-hearted bow, but his feet shuffled awkwardly in the loose sandles.
The Archmage sputtered in disbelief. "Y-You… you're the hero we summoned?"
Kyle shrugged, clearly nonchalant. "I guess? I dunno, I was just minding my business. Who needs a fancy cape or sword when you've got this?" He patted his cargo shorts and gave an exaggerated wink.
Seraphina exchanged a look with her advisors, all of them equally dumbfounded. This was their great hero? The one they had called upon to save their kingdom?
"Uhm, Hero McGee," the Princess began, her voice shaky, "you… do you have any magic? Skills? Fighting abilities?"
Kyle looked down at his clothes, then back at her with a half grin. "Magic? Nah, I don't think so. But I've got a pretty decent knowledge of, like, the essentials. You know, like how to make a mean grilled cheese sandwich, and I can totally take down a gator with a broomstick if I need to."
The Princess blinked. "A gator… with a broomstick?"
"Yeah," Kyle nodded enthusiastically. "You'd be surprised. Sometimes you just gotta improvise, ya know?"
The wizards stared at him, completely lost for words. This man, this "hero," didn't seem to care at all about their magical rituals or the grave threat of the Demon King. Instead, he was talking about gators and grilled cheese.
Seraphina tried her best to stay composed. "So… what exactly are you good at?"
Kyle scratched his chin. "Well, I'm real good at surfing, barbecuing, and, uh, improvising my way out of tricky situations. And I'm also not afraid of, like, anything. I mean, you can throw me into a pit of fire, and I'll probably find a way out with a spatula and a beach ball."
There was a long, awkward silence as the Princess tried to process the situation. This was their last hope?
As if on cue, a loud, deep growl echoed from the outer courtyard. The castle shook, and the sound of heavy footsteps reverberated through the room.
Princess Seraphina gasped. "The Demon King's forces… they're here!"
Kyle, however, didn't seem concerned in the slightest. He glanced around casually, then reached for his soda can again. "Demon King? Sounds like a pretty gnarly villain. But hey, I'm sure we can work something out. Got any pool floaties around here?"
One of the mages stepped forward, sweat dripping down his brow. "Princess, what are we to do? This man—this hero—doesn't even have magic. He has nothing!"
The Princess gritted her teeth, glancing at Kyle once more. For some reason, though, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about him. Something chaotic… and unpredictable.
"I guess… we'll just have to see what this Florida man can do."