Voices drifted through the hallway as Shade stopped to listen. Six students and a teacher.
"Today is the day, national exams, baby," a male voice said, loud and easy with confidence.
"If we win this, I'll finally be left to my own vices for the whole summer."
"The smartest students from all over the country will be there," a deeper male voice replied, drier. "This isn't some quiz."
"Not like I care. I've never failed one of these."
Shade watched them through the thin gap of the door as they passed. Three girls and three boys trailing a short woman.
He clocked them in under four seconds. All of them were variables, non-threats, but still variables.
He held his breath until the footsteps faded.
"Look at those little shits stressing over disappointing their parents," he muttered, reaching into his bag.
"Wish I knew mine." He pulled out a pair of sunglasses and put them on, then fitted the face mask over what remained of his face.
"Kudos to my mom for selling me the moment I shot out between her legs. Smart woman. Guess it's because I was black."
He walked to the window and looked out.
His pursuers had found the school. He watched them pour through the gates below, killing the security guards, splitting into teams. He counted, noting holes in their formation.
"Time to go get the milk."
Suddenly the floor shone brightly. A summoning circle appeared beneath him without warning, sigils and runes carved from light into the floor.
Gravity inverted for half a second. Sound collapsed entirely. Space folded inward like paper and Shade felt himself come apart at the seams and get put back together.
"What the hell," he said, voice dry and incredulous, as he gazed at the giant medieval throne room he stood in.
The throne room was enormous making people feel small.The ceilings climbed so high that the chandeliers hanging from them looked like distant stars.
Each one dripping gold and candlelight in patterns that cast the whole room in warm amber.
The floors were white marble, polished to a mirror shine that reflected everything. It smelled of incense and scented candles.
The banners hanging from the walls were deep crimson, embroidered with a crest Shade took note of.
The guards lining the walls stood at perfect attention, hands on weapons, faces forward. They were well trained and disciplined, also fucking numerous like ants on a jawbreaker.
Shade counted exits in the first three seconds. The main door behind him was sealed.
Two side passages flanked by guards. Windows along the upper gallery with nobles leaning over and looking at the new arrivals, too high for a clean drop.
Staircase to the left leading upward. Staircase to the right leading down.
He moved to the nearest pillar and leaned against it, arms crossed, and watched. He was summoned with alot of distance between him and the students.
His dark inconspicuous dressing in the shadow of a banner wasn't attracting attention compared to the prim ironed and shining uniforms of the kids.
The six students and their teacher were already in the room, stumbling into each other, dazed from the warp.
The same six from the hallway, who would have thought. "I just got summoned to another world, what is this, shield hero?"
Alexander Westwood recovered first.
That wasn't surprising. Shade could tell the type within seconds of seeing him.
Tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of face that photographers and ladies loved. His eyes were already moving across the room, assessing everything.
The man on throne, the guards, the robed figures approaching from the far end. He was scared.
Shade could see it in the slight tension around his jaw. But he was doing a good job hiding it.
High Priestess Elowen Ariseth stepped forward first, a tall fair skinned woman with blond hair and a face hidden behind a viel.
She wore white priestly robes with golden embroidery of on the symbol of the sun. A jeweled staff glinting as she raised a hand to command silence.
"Great heroes," she began, her voice calm but resonant, "I am High Priestess Elowen Ariseth of the Grand Church of Veyloran.
You have been summoned to this world to aid in the fight against the Demon Lord Aragon and his armies.
You have been chosen to serve the gods, carrying their will to vanquish darkness."
"Wait," Alexander said, voice projecting naturally across the marble without him raising it.
The murmuring in the galleries paused. "Are you telling us we've been summoned to another world?
"This isn't some prank? If this is a ploy of the other academies to stop us from the exams today. Best prepared for the retaliation of my family."
Snickers and laughs sounded from the gallery at his words. King Tharion Drevane , his cape brushing the polished floor stood to address them.
He was tall with light skin a clean cut beard and deep red eyes. "I am King Tharion Drevane of the Veyloran Kingdom," he said. "The kingdom welcomes you. You will be trained to your fullest potential.
You will receive blessings and powers from the gods so that you may succeed in defeating the Demon Lord. Handle this task with care, and do not fail."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd. Nobles and high-rank members leaned in closer, whispering to each other.
"These are the heroes?" one whispered. "So small… so young… could they really defeat the great Demon Lord?"
Beside him, Hikaru Azarashi was vibrating.
Short, wiry, glasses already sliding down his nose from the force of the warp, he had gone from terrified to something approaching religious ecstasy in approximately four seconds flat.
His head was turning in every direction at once, taking in the chandeliers, the guards, the banners, the robed figures, and most notably the women standing in the gallery above.
"Oh," he breathed. Then louder, "Oh! So there'll be beautiful women here? Big tiddied women with perfect bodies? Maybe beast women too?"
King Tharion Drevane smiled. "Anything required to succeed in your quest against the Demon Lord will be granted to you," he said. "Anything at all."
Hikaru smiled, pumping his fist in the air, glasses sliding down his nose. "This… this is… I've prayed and hoped for this, snu snu is real!"
In the pillar's shadow, Shade pinched the bridge of his nose. "Great, now Mineta is here too."
Alexander ignored him, leaning toward the king. "You said Demon Lord… what kind of threat is this Demon Lord that you expect a group of teenagers to handle self, great warriors fought and lost?"
King Tharion nodded to the priestess. "High Priestess."
Elowen Ariseth's eyes swept across the students. "The Demon Lord Aragon has grown in power. He seeks to dominate this world, using dark forces and corrupted armies. You are the heroes chosen by the gods to stop him before he fully awakens his army.
You have been chosen based on your potential and virtues. Those virtues will manifest as powers granted to you. These powers are far too great for people of our world.
You otherworlders possess greater bodies, on average you are ten times stronger than normal in our world.
You have an almost boundless potential, allowing you to grow to great heights. You are this world's only hope. If you don't fight, the world will descend into chaos."
At the back of the group, Elara Vailin reached out and found Isabella Conti's hand without looking. Isabella squeezed back immediately, an automatic reflex between two people best friends since childhood
Elara kept her eyes down, she went still when frightened. She was scared and wanted to go home.
Isabella, beside her, was not still.
She was looking around, under different circumstances she'd have already been asking five questions at once and making everyone around her either laugh or sigh.
Right now those same instincts were nowhere to be found. She didn't trust the king on his throne or the woman with the staff or any of the smiling faces watching from above.
Across the room, standing apart from the group with her arms folded, Yelena Volkov was very quietly running her hand along the inside of her jacket.
Her fingers found the two knives stored in there. Drawing them now would be a death sentence, surrounded as they were. But knowing they were there settled her and gave a sense of safety.
She still was scared. "But fear is just information",her mother had told her that when she was six years old, standing in a kitchen that smelled of borscht and cigarettes. Fear tells you what matters. What you do with it is the only question worth asking.
Yelena knew drawing weapons was stupid. Refusing the king's terms openly was very stupid. The only viable move right now was to accept.
Finn Bartholomew had drifted to the edge of the group and started using his inhaler to calm stop an attack.
His hands were shaking. He finally got a grip on his inhaler then used it, inhaling the cold gas and steadying himself.
Selene Ardent looked had been hoping this was a prank or some reality TV but looking at the spears that were glinting.
The armor that had dents in it from actual use. The stone that was too cold to be a set. The guards whose eyes tracked her with the waiting for a wrong move. She had to be smart for her and the children's sake.