The War of the Worlds

Steven Thornberry lay in his medical bed the way he had almost every day for years, the faint mechanical hum of its adjustable frame blending with the quiet buzz of the ceiling fan above. The living room had long ago stopped feeling like a living room. It was his bedroom, his office, his gaming den, and, if he was being honest with himself, his entire world.

The television sat dark across from him while the glow of his dual monitors painted the room in soft blue light. His parents had already gone to bed hours ago, leaving the house wrapped in the comfortable silence of another summer night.

One monitor displayed Rose Online, his favorite MMORPG. Colorful forests, oversized monsters, and cheerful music filled the screen as his character stood idly in town.

The other monitor held a browser with several tabs open—guides, forums, and old news articles about the Dungeon Gateways.

Even after a year and a half...

People still couldn't stop talking about them.

Nobody could.

One day, without warning, they had appeared.

Massive arches rose from empty fields, mountain peaks, deserts, forests, city streets, even beneath the ocean where naval forces quickly secured the area. Every gateway looked different.

Some resembled pristine white marble cathedrals.

Others looked carved from volcanic obsidian.

Ancient stone.

Twisted roots.

Golden metal.

Weathered wood.

Each possessed enormous double doors reminiscent of a castle's main gate, covered in symbols no language on Earth had ever recorded. Every gate shimmered with a faint aura unique to itself, different colors drifting like mist across their surfaces.

Naturally...

Humanity panicked.

Then governments did what governments usually did.

They got involved.

The world's major powers, despite decades of political tension, formed joint research coalitions almost immediately. Militaries surrounded every known gateway while scientists desperately searched for explanations.

They expected to eliminate the phenomenon within weeks.

Instead...

The phenomenon refused to disappear.

Opening the doors revealed worlds beyond imagination.

Monsters.

Ruins.

Forests that glowed at night.

Floating islands.

Ancient cities.

Treasure.

Death.

Eventually, humanity accepted the uncomfortable truth.

The gates weren't invading Earth.

They were inviting it.

Companies soon realized something even more valuable than the discoveries themselves.

The materials.

One of the earliest breakthroughs had been something researchers nicknamed Black Stone.

An unassuming mineral capable of naturally generating and storing electrical energy over time.

Engineers nearly lost their minds.

Within months prototypes were being developed.

Generators.

Batteries.

Emergency power systems.

Entire industries sprang into existence overnight.

And Black Stone was merely one material among hundreds.

Rare metals.

Living wood.

Monster hides tougher than kevlar.

Plants with medicinal properties modern science couldn't explain.

Every successful expedition returned wealthier than they had left.

The Dungeon Economy had exploded.

Guilds formed.

Private security companies emerged.

Governments licensed explorers.

Entire careers appeared that hadn't existed eighteen months prior.

Then came the revelation that changed everything.

Not everyone could enter.

Only those chosen.

The media eventually settled on calling them Players after leaked government terminology spread across the internet.

The first invitations had appeared to approximately one out of every eight thousand humans.

Roughly one million people.

No one knew why those individuals had been selected.

Age didn't matter.

Gender didn't matter.

Nationality didn't matter.

Health didn't seem to matter either...

...or so everyone believed.

Researchers theorized future waves of invitations would eventually happen.

No one knew when.

No one knew why.

Only that someday...

More Players would appear.

Steven had watched all of it unfold from this very bed.

Every news report.

Every interview.

Every blurry cell phone video uploaded from inside a dungeon before governments started restricting recordings.

He imagined himself fighting monsters.

Exploring ruins.

Finding treasures.

Actually...

Living.

Instead, reality greeted him every morning the same way.

Wake up.

Stretch what little he could.

Play games.

Browse forums.

Sleep.

Repeat.

He sighed, absentmindedly clicking around Rose Online.

"...Would've been nice."

He wasn't even sure who he was talking to anymore.

Then—

A soft chime interrupted the game's music.

Ding.

Steven frowned.

"...Huh?"

A translucent blue window materialized directly in front of him.

Not on his monitor.

In front of it.

Floating in midair.

The letters shimmered with faint light.

Would you like to join the War of the Worlds?

His heart stopped.

Every news broadcast.

Every government press conference.

Every Player interview.

They had all described the same thing.

A blue window.

An invitation.

"...No way..."

His breathing became shallow.

"...No..."

He laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because it couldn't possibly be happening.

"I..."

He stared at the message for several long seconds.

"So... this is the second wave."

Researchers had predicted it.

More invitations.

More Players.

Apparently...

He was one of them.

His mind raced.

This is it.

This is my chance.

His body might have betrayed him years ago.

Life might have ground him into routine after routine.

But this...

This was something different.

There wasn't even a decision to make.

"I accept."

The words had barely left his mouth before the blue window rippled.

Congratulations, Chosen One.

You will randomly be given a class.

One moment....

A gigantic wheel burst into existence.

It was already spinning so quickly the individual sections blurred together into streaks of color.

"What the..."

Steven leaned forward as much as his body allowed.

"I can't even read them!"

The wheel slowed.

Slower.

Slower.

Individual labels finally became visible—

Too late.

The pointer clicked past them one after another.

Knight.

Mage.

Archer.

Assassin.

Priest.

Lancer.

Necromancer.

...

...

...

Finally—

Click.

The wheel stopped.

Monk

Steven blinked.

"..."

"...Monk?"

Another blink.

"...MONK?!"

His voice echoed through the otherwise silent house.

"Are you kidding me?!"

He threw both hands into the air.

"I'm a cripple, you stupid system!"

"How the fuck am I supposed to do anything with Monk?!"

The blue window remained perfectly silent.

No explanation.

No sympathy.

No response whatsoever.

Instead, new text calmly appeared.

Congratulations on Monk.

Now your first Skill will be randomized....

"Oh, screw you."

Another wheel emerged.

It too was already spinning before he could see the options.

"Seriously? Can I at least know what I'm rolling for this time?"

The wheel gradually slowed.

Names flashed by.

Too quickly to remember.

Eventually...

Click.

The pointer landed.

Eternal Breath

Steven frowned.

"...That's it?"

He searched the screen.

No tooltip.

No description.

No explanation.

"What the hell is Eternal Breath?"

Nothing.

"Come on..."

He looked around the floating interface.

"There has to be something."

Still nothing.

"Who would fall for this bullshit?"

The screen remained indifferent.

Then, as if following a script that had already moved on without him—

Good Luck Player

The window vanished.

No fireworks.

No triumphant music.

No magical transformation.

Nothing.

The living room returned to exactly as it had been moments earlier.

The ceiling fan continued spinning.

Rose Online continued idling in town.

The summer night remained silent.

Steven simply sat there.

Staring at the empty air.

"..."

"...Did I just get scammed by reality?"