Lennox didn't click anything.
He just sat there, staring at the screen like it might fix itself if he gave it enough time, like maybe another menu would pop up or some patch note would explain it in tiny text at the bottom.
The words didn't move at all, the two identical choices sat there, waiting in a way that didn't feel like a normal game prompt at all.
'Yeah that's a first. I never miss any updates on this game ever. I kinda wanna get off for right now, and eat then I'll get back on in an hour. But both answer choices are yes…?'
His eyes flicked between them again, like one might suddenly change if he caught it slipping.
Then more words popped up, showing:
[You must make a decision now, though you can't say no, can you?]
Then he let out a short laugh, leaning back just a bit, one hand coming up to rub at his face.
"You developers are something else, I tell ya," he muttered, voice carrying through the empty room. "Damn geezers. I can just turn off my PC."
'Who do they think they are? Are they that desperate for me to play a new update? I should look it up in a little to see if the forums have said anything about it.'
He reached forward, fingers stretching toward the power button without any urgency like he'd already decided this wasn't worth his time.
But something grabbed him; A hand that was not his own.
It wrapped around his wrist the second he got close, pale light spilling off it in a way that didn't belong anywhere near his desk, fingers closing tight enough to stop him.
It was a glowing white hand coming from the monitor itself like magic.
Lennox jerked back, breath catching hard in his throat. "H-Hey!"
'What the hell is happening?!'
He yanked his arm, trying to pull free, chair scraping slightly against the floor as his body followed the rapid movement. The grip didn't give at all, didn't even shift with him.
"What are you?!" Lennox scoffed, panic climbing up his voice without asking. "I knew I shouldn't smoked all of that stuff two years ago! It's finally catching up to me! They're gonna put me in a crazy house!"
The monitor flickered again, and new text replaced the old.
[How dare you try and turn this screen off? Who do you think you are? Some celebrity? You're just a Lennox. What even is a Lennox? Your last name, Hellslain, is pretty cool though]
Lennox's stomach dropped in a way that had nothing to do with the grip on his wrist.
"Someone's hacking my monitor, mixed in with the stuff I smoked two years ago?! Shit! Shit! I'm finally fucked up for real!"
He pulled again but harder this time, his shoulder tensing up as he tried to rip his arm free, but the hand didn't budge or loosen at all.
The text changed again:
[Yeah you are pretty janked up. But I need you to just come into this world and do all that I tell you. And then, your desire to finally rule over something, will come into play. I know all about you, Lennox Hellslain. Man I love saying that last name. Anyway, I know you. A boy who used to be a smart kid until bad stuff started happening in your life]
Lennox felt some type of way hearing that and his grip on the desk loosened without him noticing, the fight in his arm easing off little by little even though he didn't fully let go of it.
That… wasn't something he expected to read tonight.
The words sat there, casual about it, like they hadn't just reached into his past and dragged something out without asking.
[You are a reckless brat, yes. Searching for ways you can outrun fate with your recklessness, so you try and handle everything on your own so you will never hesitate again like you did with your parents. You just want happiness, right? Be summoned, and claim Divinity in the world of Elslat!]
'What…? Summoned to Elslat?!'
The glowing hand released him; One second it held him in place, the next it was gone, the light fading out like it had never been there.
Lennox barely had time to react before something else happened, and the air behind him tore open, and a black spiraling portal had manifested.
Lennox twisted in his chair, half-standing, one hand reaching back like he could push against it or grab onto something—
The floor disappeared from under him.
"Wait! Wait! What the hell?!" And he dropped straight into it.
The apartment vanished in an instant, replaced by nothing but a dark stretch that went on longer than his eyes could track. His body kept falling, but it didn't feel like a normal drop, no rush of air past his ears, no impact waiting at the end of it.
A slow burn descent, and for whatever reason, it was peaceful.
'It all feels way too real, this isn't those drugs from that time ago… it can't be! Or maybe it is..? Aghhh! Why can't I think straight?!'
His hands moved without direction, like he expected something to be there if he reached far enough, fingers curling around nothing.
'Those words on my monitor told me about my childhood, and my own issues like some stalker!'
His chest rose and fell faster, breath coming out chaotically, his thoughts tripping over each other without landing anywhere solid.
'I don't remember cannabis being this vivid before…! What is really happening…?!'
Even after all this, he still didn't believe it was real. He lived in a world where magic and portals and glowing hands didn't exist.
...
…
(Word of Elslat)
(Kingdom of Kalhan)
The battlefield had stopped resembling anything that could be defended and started looking like something that had already been lost, the ground chewed apart in strips and pits, metal fragments half-buried where bodies had fallen over them, the air carrying that metallic sting that stuck to the back of the throat and refused to leave.
The sky hung there in that dull grey, not changing, not reacting, like it had decided none of this mattered enough to acknowledge. And still, they held.
The Ancestors poured forward in numbers that made counting pointless, their rusted armor grinding against itself with every step, that blackened skin showing through in patches where the plating had split open. Those veins across their faces didn't stay still either, faint movement crawling along them like something under the surface kept searching for a way out.
Their halos hovered above them, broken rings that never aligned fully, each edge uneven, and their eyes burned with that same empty white that never flickered. Every weapon they carried dragged along that dark presence, something that clung to metal and bone alike, eating at whatever it touched without ever showing a clear edge.
"Hold the line!" one of the knights shouted, voice cracking through the noise as he shoved his shield forward into an oncoming strike, the impact pushing him back half a step before the man beside him braced and shoved him forward again. "Don't give them space!"
"They don't stop coming!" another yelled, dragging his blade free from an Ancestor's torso only for two more to step into its place without hesitation.
"They don't need to!" a third snapped, breathing hard, armor dented in across the chest. "We just need to last long enough!"
Behind them, the stone platform stood as the only thing untouched by the chaos around it, though "untouched" didn't fit anymore.
Blood covered every inch of it, pooled into the carved runes that glowed with a deep light, the lines connecting in ways that made the eye struggle to follow. Mages in red and white robes stood around its edge, hands raised, voices overlapping in a chant that never fully synced yet somehow stayed unified.
Some of them were already on the ground, dead.
Their bodies hadn't fallen cleanly as some were slumped forward into the circle itself, hands still stretched toward the center as if they hadn't accepted the end yet. Others had collapsed backward, eyes open, skin drained, the marks of the ritual still crawling across them like it hadn't finished even after they had. The cost had been paid before the result even showed itself.
They had done it anyway, all for the sake of summoning Lennox Hellslain.
"For the King!" one of the remaining mages forced out, voice cracking as blood ran from the corner of his mouth, his hands trembling but not lowering. "For Lancelot!"
"For Lancelot!" the other mages echoed, some barely able to get the words out, their bodies shaking under the strain as the circle began to react more violently, wind tearing across the platform in a wild range that pulled at robes and hair alike.
King Lancelot stood at the front.
His hair clung to his forehead, the gold color of it dulled under streaks of blood that hadn't been wiped away. His beard carried the same, thick and unkempt, framing a face lined with cuts that hadn't been given the time to settle. His green eyes stayed forward and fixed on the incoming tide like he had already accepted that this was where he would stand.
His armor still carried the colors of his kingdom beneath the damage, red and white and gold fighting to show through the grime and blood that covered it. The crown on his head hadn't slipped once, sitting firm as if it had anchored itself there.
His sword, named Bladegündr, rested in his hand, its three-sided form catching what little light existed in different ways along each edge; The blade seemed to carry weight beyond its size, something buried within it pressing against the air around it.
"Do not fall back!" Lancelot said, voice carrying without needing to rise. "If they pass us, the ritual fails. If the ritual fails, everything behind us follows. We make our stand and accept all that is thrown at us!"
One of the Champions, Sugred, let out a brooding grunt, dragging one of his axes through an Ancestor's shoulder and ripping it free in a move that sent embers across the ground. "Hmph," he muttered, his dark orange eyes narrowing as he rolled his neck once, the scar across his face pulling slightly with the movement. "I'm not dying before I see what we dragged in." He wiped blood from his bushy brown beard, he hated the way that crap would harden eventually if he didn't get it now.
[Sugred, Second Champion of King Lancelot]
[Class: Blazing Inferno]
[Rank: Herald]
He was holding two axes, one for each hand, and both covered in devouring flames. And his devastating fire magic is channeled from the god of the chaotic flame, Evander.
He darted into a large group of Ancestors and spun fast with both axes in hand, and a divine fire hurricane formed around him and just continued to grow each passing second, and Ancestors were getting caught in it quickly, and the hurricane of fire itself had the same sharpness as Sugred's blades
Alpam, another Champion, stood further back, her black and grey scepter held firmly in both hands, the green crystal at its tip glowing brighter with every passing second.
Her pale white skin stood out against the blood-stained battlefield, she had ear length silky black and grey hair, her dark green eyes moving constantly, tracking every ally within range. "Blah blah blah all that talking and less fighting! Kill more!," she called out with an outgoing but chaotic voice, even as she brought the staff down against the stone, sending a wave of green light across the knights.
Wounds began to close, exhaustion easing just enough to keep them standing, while another layer of energy settled over them, reinforcing armor, sharpening their reactions in subtle ways.
"Don't waste my work, either!" She added under her breath. "If I heal you, you gotta kill ten more in order for me to heal you as payment!"
[Alpam, Third Champion of Lancelot]
[Class: Apocalyptic Mage]
[Rank: Herald]
Able to heal and mend, but also turn her healing magic into catastrophic spells meant to consume enemies are tied to the goddess of magic and substance, Svanhildr.
She chanted. "Break their posture, Svanhildr!"
She raised her scepter high in the air, her eyes glowing the same green color as the crystal, and in the sky, twenty foot long glowing white and green greatswords with runes on them and green wraps flapping from the handle, had formed all through the sky.
Alpam stabbed her scepter into the dirt, and the swords came rushing down and destroying hordes upon hordes of ancestors.
Yubel, another Champion, stood off to the side, already drawing another arrow, his long red braided ponytail swaying behind him as he tracked targets with a focus that didn't break.
"They're stacking on the left, annoying fucking pests," he said, voice calm, releasing the string. The arrow split mid-flight into several, each one curving toward a different target before embedding into their skulls, the impact sending a creeping black mark through their bodies that locked them in place for a brief second before they dropped. Yubel had dark pink eyes, and a white bandage on his face that he always kept on there for some odd reason.
And the arrows he shot earlier burst from within his enemies, growing into a large rotten tree, making many Ancestors be punctured by the branches of it in all directions.
[Yubel, Fourth Champion of Lancelot]
[Class: Magic Death Archer]
[Rank: Herald]
His bows and arrows tied to his magic and his deity carry the power of the god of death, Ors.
Aphrodite, the next champion, remained near the platform, her white dress stained at the hem, those small dark blue wings at the side of her head fluttering slightly as she raised one hand. She had long straight blue hair, and dark red eyes, and she carried a very calm and tranquil demeanor.
From her arm, something began to grow, flesh parting in a controlled and unnatural way as a creature pushed through, forming fully within seconds. It resembled a hound at first glance, though its frame carried too many joints, its mouth splitting wider than it should as it leapt forward into the nearest group of Ancestors, tearing into them with relentless movement that didn't slow.
[Aphrodite, The First Champion of Lancelot]
[Class: Heavenly Beast Hoarder]
[Rank: ???]
With the ability to kill Glorious Beasts from the world of Elslat and store them within her, and able to dish them out of her in a brutal way, all of her skills and magic are tied to the goddess of nature and fertility, Mother Nature.
Aphrodite stood near the ritual, her role no less violent despite her position, creatures continuing to form from her body in rapid bursts, each one different from the last, some resembling beasts with too many limbs that carried them across the field in erratic movement before tearing into enemies, others forming as winged entities that launched themselves into the air before diving into clusters of Ancestors with relentless force, her hands guiding their actions as if they were extensions of herself.
Even as the battlefield grew more intense, she didn't lose her edge or her cool, and the ground around her littered with remains of both enemies and her own creations, each one having served its purpose before falling apart.
"Keep them away from the circle.." she called, her voice carrying a strange calm that didn't match what she was doing. "If they reach us, the summoning ends here. Too many have died for this to come to pass, we shall not let it be in vain. You cannot concentrate if Yubel and Alpam are screaming at you like maids."
Alpam fire back at her after puncturing her staff through an Ancestors face, "They can barely hear me! I'm not mean or anything!"
Yubel responded, "Once again, Aphrodite is always dragging me into something, I didn't do anything, peasant."
The words of Aphrodite and King Lancelot influenced the mages to keep going and stay in it for as long as they could, even if they lost their lives. But if this didn't carry out, then it would mean the end for the kingdom of Kalhan.
The wind around the platform grew stronger, the runes burning brighter, the ground beneath it trembling as the ritual reached deeper into something it had no right to touch.
And the Ancestors did not stop.
"Push them back!" a knight shouted, driving his sword forward into an Ancestor as two others moved in behind him, their blades striking in fast succession to keep the pressure on. "Rotate! Don't get stuck in one place!"
"I'm running out of stamina!" another called, barely holding his stance as an Ancestor's weapon pressed against his guard.
"You're not allowed to run out!" Sugred barked from somewhere to the side, flames lighting up the space around him as he forced another group back. "Move your feet!"
"Alpam!" a voice called out, strained, desperate.
"I see him!" She replied immediately, her staff striking the ground again as green light surged toward the wounded knight, sealing the worst of it before he collapsed completely. "Stay standing and stop squirming!"
The ritual circle screamed, the wind around it tore across the battlefield in violent bursts, pulling at everything nearby, the runes blazing brighter as the energy built to a point that felt impossible to contain.
The mages at its edge faltered, some dropping to their knees, others collapsing entirely as the final stretch took everything they had left.
"It's working!" one of them gasped, barely able to hold his hands up anymore. "It's actually working!"
"Then finish it!" Lancelot roared, his voice cutting through everything else as he drove Bladegündr forward once more, magic pouring into the strike with enough weight to break through the incoming wave. "We did not sacrifice them for failure!"
The circle reached its peak, and light burst from the runes, the wind tearing across the field with enough strength to force even the Ancestors to stagger for a moment, the energy pulling inward toward the center as something began to take shape within it.
The summoning had begun.
"It's…it's working!!" A mage exclaimed with tears in her eyes.