Larna looked nervously at his surroundings. Ahh, what am I doing here? He stood on the sidewalk, facing what at first looked like a park. It had trees, benches, and brick paths. But it wasn’t a park—it was a Battle Center.

  Larna’s heart skipped every time someone passed by the entrance and their clothes and features, like eye or hair color, changed, and weapons appeared on their backs or waists. He had seen from a muscular guy with an enormous hammer to girls with swords, all wearing fantasy-like clothes.

  As a guy who had been since his fourteen to now his eighteen years just going out of his room for school and consuming all kinds of media that the internet had to offer, Larna itched to get dressed like that and have a weapon like the characters in the famous web novels he had read.

  But his anxiety seemed to have other plans as his body felt heavy and his eyes and thoughts wandered without direction. He had come here after a long and full of anxiety thirty-minute walk from his house, and still, he had been considering turning back.

  He surrendered to his fears and started to turn, but clenched his fists and stopped mid-movement.

  Yesterday, after returning from a tough day at school—breaking his habit of heading straight to his room—Larna sat on the sofa and put on the TV. When he saw an ad was playing, he promptly grabbed the controller and pointed it at the TV. His finger lingered on the button to change the channel when his gaze got fixed on the screen.

  It displayed a compilation of highlights of what looked like a sport. Persons with all kinds of weapons clashed frenetically, with epic music playing in the background. As he watched, Larna’s chest burned with excitement, something he didn’t know still had the capacity to feel.

  The ad promoted an event that was going to take place in this Battle Center. That was why Larna was standing here, having his own battle against himself since he left his home.

  Having remembered his motivation, Larna clenched his fists even more and stepped, aiming to pass by the entrance. But his body stopped just one step away from it.

  I can’t do it.

  Larna’s eyes welled up with tears as he was turning away, but he felt a hand stopping his movement and pushing him forward. “Huh?!" He lost his balance and tripped face-first on the brick floor.

  Before he could realize what happened, his gaze was interrupted by a string of white letters that appeared in the center of his vision.

  [Welcome to Tenet’s Battle Center]

  Larna’s eyes widened in shock. I… fell in?! A blue shine wrapped his body as his clothes turned into pure light and shifted their shape, adjusting to Larna’s body and changing their texture.

  He looked at the process with wide eyes and awe. This could be the closest thing to magic he had ever seen in real life.

  His clothes ended up becoming a plain grey suit made of sports pants attached to a t-shirt. But his attention was immediately drawn away by a sheath that hung on his waist. It was made of brown leather and was above the size of his arm. Larna's hand moved automatically to pull the hilt protruding from it.

  Having it in his hands, he felt the roughness of the grip’s leather and the smooth coldness of the blade. I’m really holding a sword.

  He extended his hand, pointing the blade forward. The sword's weight pushed his hand down, but he was capable of holding that position even with his slim hands. Luckily, its weight seemed to be manageable for him.

  Larna followed the sword’s sharp blade, which glimmered in the sunlight. Cool. But his gaze traveled farther, and he noticed a group of people entering the Battle Center.

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  Right! He thought, realizing he was still resting on the floor. He pushed himself up to stop doing the ridicule, but a strange weight on his back made him fall again. It was something solid, and with a confused face, Larna brought it to view. That thing was a shield.

  It had the typical shield form and was entirely silver. It was smaller than the sword, but its weight was slightly bigger.

  Larna looked through the shield's reflection at how the group of people passed by him, feeling their gazes on him and hearing their gossiping. He looked down and slowly stood up. His mouth curled down as he sheathed his sword and put his shield on his back.

  He walked away from the multitude towards a solitary bench. More relaxed with the comfort of loneliness, Larna noticed something. It was unnoticeable if you didn't focus on it, but a thin line rounded the limits of his vision.

  Larna jerked back when an interface appeared in his vision, which seemed to activate because of his attention.

  There were a lot of sections, but what immediately drew Larna's focus was a timer.

  [1: 52 hours]

  [Ascension Event]

  That’s it. The event that he had seen in the ad that day. A tickling sensation formed inside Larna. He was about to see some battles in real life, like the ones he saw on TV!

  Still, there were surely going to be a lot of people. Larna's face tensed as he recreated the scenario in his mind.

  Finally deciding to worry about that later, he focused on the other sections of the interface.

  There was a [personalization] one. He needed to change his basic clothes and put on something cooler, or people would see him as a beginner.

  While ruminating about his clothes, Larna's gaze quickly shifted to one side, called by the sound of several footsteps.

  Then he froze.

  What's he doing here?!

  Followed by a band of nerds and shorter guys was Garuma. He walked with a smirk towards Larna with his ugly face and tall and wide body.

  "Oh, but look who's here! I must be seeing things. Larna?!"

  Larna clenched his teeth. Garuma's deep voice was familiar, but not pleasant to hear.

  He shifted his gaze towards the followers of Garuma. They were weak guys whom Garuma bullied and forced to submit to him. The reason why Larna had been so low that day was that Garuma seemed to have noticed him. He surely thought he could make him follow him, too. But he wasn't like those people.

  The bench creaked and squeezed as Garuma tumbled on him. He passed an arm above Larna's neck, acting friendly, but it was just an act. Larna could feel the weight of Garuma's big arm above him and how it obstructed his path to run away.

  "I didn't know you were a battler." He said before leaning closer and making Larna capable of smelling his dirty mouth. "That just increases your value."

  Larna frowned, and his blood boiled. How have I ended this way? His eyes got humid, as he realized he had become the thing he most used to hate—a weak person.

  "But what can I do?" Garuma said, continuing his monologue. The question seemed sarcastic, but Larna knew that this guy's IQ was too short for sarcasm. "I have been bullying you since last week, but you keep refusing to join my clan."

  You could leave.

  Despite Larna's hate for this guy, he stood still on the bench. He was too big, and he was too weak. There was nothing he could do.

  The bench straightened as Garuma jumped up, snapping his fingers. "I know! We'll battle. If I win, you will join me. If you win..." Garuma scratched his head. "Well, thinking about that would be a waste."

  A battle? Larna looked up at the giant towering above him and quickly lowered his head. His clenched fists started shaking.

  This doesn’t look good. I have to get away from here. Focusing on the corners of his view, Larna looked for a way out, but Garuma's clan members had surrounded him.

  Larna gulped and suppressed the urge to tsk. I'm doomed. Larna kept looking down, biting his lips, and trying to control the shaking of his body, as Garuma's words resounded in his mind.

  "So, what do you say? Do you accept the battle?”