Rhys woke with a start. Correction, he spasmed out of a chair as he fell over to the side in shock. His face pressed up against a rich carpeted surface, hands grabbing desperately at his chest. Phantom pain shooting through his body where the bullets had entered.
He'd been shot, he-
"Wha-I aghhh."
"Well, that hasn't happened in a while, are you alright?"
A soothing voice called out in concern as adrenaline pumped through Rhys's veins. He was still in his bloody SpiritSpring uniform, two holes right at his chest. He was still alive? How?
Then he saw it; he was in a room of inky black, staring up at the underside of an ornate table at the speaker's legs. They were wearing suit pants but made of no fabric he'd ever seen. At least in real life, the pants looked like they were woven out of the cosmos itself. Galaxies swirled as twinkling starlight blinked at him.
Somehow Rhys's heart started beating faster. He knew who this was, he knew what this meant. The phantom pain in his chest disappeared in his excitement, something he didn't even know was possible.
He scrambled up, his hands moving quickly to dust himself off as he quickly forgot about the shooting. None of that mattered, not anymore. All of that could be dealt with when he got back. The now ex-SpiritSpring employee sat down on the chair that magically righted itself. He tried to be calm as he spoke.
"This is real, isn't it?"
"As real as it gets, I'm afraid."
It was a dream come true, an offer given to less than a hundred mortals a year. It was better than winning any lottery. Rhys was being chosen to be a Chosen. He took a deep breath and smiled, his life changed forever.
The figure that sat in front of him wore a perfectly fitting suit, a middle-aged mortal man that kind of reminded Rhys of his previous coach. Now, that kind of threw him off. Normally the Arbiter of the Trial System tended to match the species and gender that you were most comfortable with. His ex-coach? Now that guy was a dick.
Not only that, but the Arbiter wore a bored expression.
"Well, you already know what happens here. There's no need for me to drone on. Shall we skip to class selection?"
It had been noted that in recent years, the Arbiter would act more bored than usual. Though this was a little excessive. Rhys cleared his throat.
"No, please give me the full introduction."
The Arbiter gave an exaggerated sigh. "Very well, welcome to the Trial System. Everything you could want can be found here. Unmatched power, unending wealth, eternal life. All that and more can be obtained by completing the Trials."
For what was such a momentous occasion, the tone left much to be desired. He was starting to regret his decision to push for the full introduction. The Arbiter droned on, as if he were reading blandly from a script.
"You have been chosen as a special Chosen that will get privileges only a hundred and fifty get a year. As a Chosen, you will be able to skip the portals in The Dominion and be able to use [Return To Terra Prime] directly, plus you will retain your powers should you lose your safety life."
"Thank you."
Despite the lackluster speech, Rhys couldn't help but be genuinely thankful. Milock was going to be so jealous when he told him.
The Arbiter waved his hand as three golden orbs appeared between them. Each reflected a different Rhys in different gear, all of them drew the eye.
"Now onto the classes."
[Arcanist], [Vanguard] and [Infiltrator].
Rhys thought he'd be better than some of the earlier generations, but he didn't have a chance. His eyes locked onto the unearthly spheres. The Arbiter's bored speech quickly forgotten as he drank deep in the future that the orbs promised.
The very first generation claimed that there was a charm effect on these, that they forced you to reach out and grab them. That had been largely debunked. There wasn't a need for such a thing.
The charm was in the image itself.
An older, larger-than-life version of Rhys reflected in the middle orb. He stood proudly with an expression he hadn't remembered having in years. Confidence, excitement and absolute belief in himself. A real adventurer, a giant sword in his hands.
He reached out. The Arbiter leaned in ever so slightly. Then Rhys hesitated.
It had been his dream to be a real [Swordsman], swinging his blade like a true master, cutting through both magic and skills alike. Rhys also knew how talented he really was. He was decent, but that was it. It was nothing compared to the children of the earlier generations.
The path of a [Vanguard] now felt like something he shouldn't touch.
It was better to go for the safe route, and [Infiltrators], statistically, were the safest before their class upgrade.
~
The figure in black spun a knife up and down, the glittering enchanted blade spinning in the air as it drew the eyes of everyone in the room. After it reached five revolutions, he caught it again by the blade. With a thumb and index finger.
The [Infiltrator] hadn't looked at the dagger once.
Four other figures surrounded him. Their gear made it clear what class each one was, one [Arcanist], two [Vanguards] and one [Infiltrator]. They were watching his every move.
As they should. Rhys gave them a smile, cracking his neck.
"So, what's it gonna be, fellas?"
They moved closer, their weapons at the ready, intentions obvious. The reward was apparently too great despite how strict the Guild laws were. They were probably willing to use their backgrounds to avoid getting blacklisted. He clicked his tongue.
Then flicked the dagger at the arcanist. A crack sounded out as the knife flew faster than a bullet.
It clanged as the [Vanguard] blocked the projectile with his shield. The other one started charging, confident in his armor and defense as he raised a battleaxe high. Their [Infiltrator] stayed back, more afraid that he was going to try to run than anything else.
Then the [Arcanist] started to chant. Now he was on a timer.
He used [Phantom Step] to sidestep the first [Vanguard], then wove in [Triple Step] to get distance. The [Spinning Cleave] that came at his back missed him with bare inches to spare.
He charged full sprint at the [Arcanist] hiding behind a spherical [Barrier] spell and a defensive [Vanguard] in front. Very little fear visible on either's face. That was fine. [Arcanists] being arrogant pricks was pretty normal.
[Knife Volley]
Tens of throwing knives flashed out as most of them pinged uselessly against the shield-bearing [Vanguard], the magical [Barrier] blocking the rest. That was fine too. All of it had been to hide the one enchanted knife in the volley. A knife that smashed against the [Barrier].
The magical knife didn't actually shatter the barrier. That wasn't what the enchantment was for. The knife shattered instead, the enchantment unraveling in a colorful display of bright light. That was all. It was just bright.
Bright enough to blind the [Arcanist], the [Vanguard] behind him, oh and also the [Infiltrator] that was now only ten feet away.
Rhys pivoted hard towards the other [Infiltrator], a throwing knife in the left and a shortsword in the other. He threw his knife with all his strength, trying to trigger their [Dangersense]. The opposing [Infiltrator] dodged while blinded. Their [Dangersense] now on cooldown. Perfect.
[Triple Stab]
Two spectral swords pierced the infiltrator in the sides as his real blade pierced through the middle. All three hits had landed. Excellent. He laughed as he sprinted past the collapsing [Infiltrator].
"If you want to save your teammate, you should give him an antidote. Or you can ignore him and chase me, I guess!"
He kept sprinting, almost shattering the sound barrier as he got to full speed. His loud footsteps would alert the nearby monsters, but that would be more of their worry than his. Once he got back to the adventurer's guild and told his part of the story, someone would assess the truth. It wouldn't be a perfect ruling, but-
Rhys stopped, blinking. Wait, none of this was real, this was a class orb. Something was wrong.