1 Leaving Earth--Here Comes The Otherworld!

I sighed against my hand, looking over it with bored eyes and at New London below.

I hadn't paid much attention to the city - I hadn't needed to. Most of my time was spent training in my families facilities and getting ready for my transfer to Artrosia. For the day I'd be given the chance to level.

A pang of anxiety ran through me yet I crushed it before it could grow into any worries, the words of my grandfather echoing in my head, 'Anxiety is nothing but a coward's way of anticipating something'. A rather crude way of thinking about it...but I couldn't exactly expect anything difference off of the military man my grandfather was.

It was all tough love in my family, I suppose.

But I knew it was for a good reason. It was all to prepare me for what was to come. For what I had to do.

Scrunching my eyebrows, I tore my gaze away from the city below and looked at the ceiling of the hover-limo I was currently in. The high-quality materials it was made with were lost on me as I closed my eyes and settled into what I knew about what was about to happen.

I would be transported to Artrosia, colloquially referred to as 'The Otherworld', within the next hour. The existence of Artrosia was discovered around two centuries ago when the Obelisks rose from the ground on all seven continents and began flooding Earth with monsters of all sorts. 1.5 million people disappeared to Artrosia and two hundred thousand of them returned two months later - though to the people who'd went to the Otherworld, it had been a full year.

Their return was quite the fortunate turn of events, anyways. Just as the world's different militaries were struggling, a few hundred thousand superhumans who could lift tanks and summon the elements returned and helped the war effort against the hordes of monsters that poured from the Obelisks.

These people recounted how they'd spent a full year in Artrosia, being taught by natives on how to fight monsters and about the powers they'd been granted.

Powers belonging to three things: Levels, Bloodlines and Classes.

A Warrior, which is what these people are called, can kill monsters to absorb their Life Mana. This Life Mana adds to their own and allows them to grow their statistics once it reaches a certain level. When it reaches this certain level, they 'level up'.

Depending on specific things, they gain increased stats from these level ups. Stats such as Strength, Agility or Intelligence have different growth rates depending on the person.

But I digress.

The people who came back from Artrosia weren't the only people who can become Warriors. People who show the potential to conduct and produce Mana can become Warriors by being taken to Obelisks while they're still non-Warriors. This was discovered quite early on - right after the Warriors returned from Artrosia, to be specific - but couldn't be proven until Humanity actually reached the Obelisks after beating the hordes of monsters back into said Obelisks.

This, started a tradition.

When people turn 18 and show potential for Mana conductivity and production, they are taken to an Obelisk and whisked off to Artrosia. Well, those who want to anyway. But that means most people - who wouldn't want to become a superhuman?

Those who don't are definitely in the minority if the statistics are correct - and they usually are, nowadays.

On Earth time, you spend two months in Artrosia. But in reality, you're gone for a year. A year of training on how to fight monsters and how your levels/status work. Which is something I had to take part in if I was to bring honor to my family.

More personally, however, I just wanted to become strong.

Opening my eyes after the brief history recap, I looked down at my calloused hands and wondered if I could be considered strong for a non-Warrior. I had been taught how to fight and how to kill since I was a small child. Thirteen years of training...all for a year in Artrosia to be hundreds of times more important.

I could hardly hold myself back from smirking at how ludicrous all those hours of arduous training would never be comparable to even a few level ups.

Shaking my head, I looked away from my hands and out the window again.

The skyline of skyscrapers and blockades of flats was gone. Replaced by neatly organized bushes, trees, flowers and acres of neatly cut grass.

We'd arrived at one of England's Obelisks.

I waved my hand across the middle of the door, sliding the tips of my fingers across the touch-sensitive pad. The door's hydraulics gave a subtle hiss before the door opened gently and I stopped out the hover-limo. Tugging at the tie and collar of the suit I was wearing, I grimaced at how tight it was and wondered why I had to where something so fancy when I was going to be changing out of it as soon as I arrived in Artrosia anyway.

"Image, I suppose..." I muttered to myself, imagining how my etiquette teacher would respond to my question. Rolling my eyes, I strode force, my long legs giving me a longer than average stride as I quickly made way to the building built around the Obelisk.

As I looked up at the gigantic white tower that reached into the skies, I barely even registered the hover-limo taking off and flying back to New London at speeds quicker than the fastest cars of the 21st century. Yet, my attention was fully focused on the white tower. It was covered in black runes that made my mind feel dizzy and flipped my stomach over and over - especially when I looked at the especially dense clusters of the runes.

Tearing my eyes away from them, I reprimanded myself. People had been known to go insane from looking at the runes, and what do I do? Look at them as soon as I arrive.

Frowning, I continued forward toward the building, my head intentionally angled downward as I did so. The heels of my dress shoes clacked against the pavement below them, giving out a rhythmic sound as I made my way, lost in my own thoughts as I thought about what was to come.

So lost in thought I nearly bumped into the glass door leading to the BOA building.

Snapping myself into focus, I pulled on the handle and stepped into the building that smelled lightly of mint - a smell that matched the interior. Walls and floors of marble, covered in old portraits and pictures of respectable Warriors who'd fought in the Obelisk War or a Warrior who'd held a significant responsibility in pushing back the hordes of monsters in the early days right after the Obelisks appeared.

I saw a portrait of a man I'd seen all too much - he had a portrait in nearly every hallway in the estate, after all. It didn't help that he held stunning resemblance to me.

Or, it should be said, that I hold an uncanny resemblance to him.

Blond hair, kept short enough that it didn't get in the way but long enough that it could be swept back, green eyes that were stoic and hard like stone and a handsome face with a chiseled jaw and straight nose - though most of his handsomeness was off put by how emotionless he face was. A tall and broad figure dressed in formal military wear that could barely hide the man's robust and brawny muscles - the latter of which I don't share with him. While I am muscular after years of conditioning, I was more like a sprinter in appearance when compared to the man's traditional bodybuilder frame.

Though considering my height, I was still much bigger than most people around me.

I looked so much like the man because he was my great-great-great--you get it right? I'm his descendant, and he was the Iron Fortress, the Guardian, Humanity's Fist, David Donovan. One of the first generation - the people who first returned from Artrosia.

There was a special word used to describe Warriors of his caliber: They were called Heroes. And as a descendent of such a person, there are certain expectations placed upon me.

Especially as I'm the lone heir to the Donovan Family.

Though this is somewhat put off by the fact that the last few generations haven't been able to awaken the Donovan Bloodline that made David Donovan so powerful; instead they awoke a degraded version that only held a fraction of the power.

"Mr. Donovan," I heard from the nearby desk and I looked away from my o' so great ancestor and toward the short receptionist behind the desk.

It was a middle-aged man who was balding somewhat on the top and the rest of his brown hair was quickly greying around the sides. His eyes, however, were full of energy and despite his somewhat chubby torso and midsection, his arms were bulky and his knuckles rounded and rough - a fighter. That's what my training told me.

A Warrior, most likely.

Nodding, I walked over and stood in front of the desk, "As you probably already know, I'm here for the transfer to Artrosia at 3:00 PM."

"I do," the receptionist said dryly before looking to his watch, "And you're over an hour early," he looked back up at me but after seeing I wasn't planning on replying, he shook his head and pressed a button on a nearby tablet that sparked to life, showing a red light that indicated a call had connected, "I need a guide to come to the reception desk, I have another kid too early for today's transfer."

No reply came but the message seemed to be conveyed and the room went silent once more. The man looked up at me for a few seconds before speaking.

"...So you're Craig Donovan's grandson?" he asked an obvious question - he already knew my name and he'd no doubt been briefed on all the semi-important people who were getting transferred today. I mean, the Donovan Family wasn't as good as it had been but we were still a household name.

Despite this, I still remained polite and nodded, "Yes, sir," I said, keeping my face clear of any expression.

"Hmm," he hummed, nodding, before gesturing to me, "Well, you're certainly a spitting image of David Donovan," he said, nodding his head over at the picture I'd been looking at not so long ago, "Let's hope you have some more look with your bloodline than those before ya, huh?" he seemed to pick up on my near non-existent nervousness at that exact thing and tried to reassure me.

I allowed myself a small smile as I looked at the shorter man, "I hope so too, sir," I remained polite.

Before anything else could be said, a tall woman in office clothes appeared from a nearby hallway. She adjusted her glasses - a telltale sign she wasn't a Warrior - and looked me up and down before putting on a professional smile as she walked over.

"Sir, if you'd follow me," she gestured with her hands to the hallway, her body moved out of my way. She'd probably dealt with some dickheads who were bothered by that sort of stuff, huh?

Nodding, I spared a single nod to the man at the desk and was on my way, the guide following slightly behind me and to my left.

The distance to the transfer room was traveled in silence, except when the guide pointed me in the right direction when we reached any crossroads. The hallways were eerily similar and I actually had to wonder if this guide had memorized some peculiar map to remember the right way or something. I knew I couldn't distinguish any of them from the next, and it was actually somewhat troubling.

I could easily see myself getting lost in this place if it weren't for the guide. Anyway, after about ten minutes of walking, we arrived inside the Obelisk's base floor.

How did I know? I...I don't know. I could just feel it. Like something in the atmosphere had just drastically changed...except I couldn't exactly put my finger on what exactly had changed. If I had to liken it to anything, it was like the pressure had suddenly increased and was pressing me sideways. Like I was suddenly being affected by the Obelisk's gravity alone and not the Earth's. It was...odd, to say the least.

The guide seemed unaffected by this phenomenon, so I tried my best to adapt to it. It showed results somewhat quicker than I thought it would, but this surprise was quickly forgotten as I looked around at the surroundings as we entered a door to the left of the first floor of the Obelisk.

...The place was massive. Too massive. Bigger than it should be.

The Obelisks were square at the base. Meaning they had four sides, and each side was a kilometer long. Except this transfer room was far bigger. Five kilometers? Ten? One hundred? It stretched on and on and on. Not only was it long - it was also wide. It stretched across an indefinite amount. And every five meters or so, there were a cluster of seats built into the ground, made of the same marble-like material as the floor.

"It's quite a confusing sight, isn't it?"

I turned, still in a bit of a daze, toward the guide who'd just spoke, "It's...quite a bit bigger on the inside, huh?" I numbly said the only thing on my mind.

"Inside the Obelisk, space isn't quite the same as on Earth. Each of the dungeon floors in the Obelisk can be as wide or long as they want to be and as high as they want to be," she said with an unfazed smile, "If you're gonna be a Warrior, kid, you'd do best to try and get used to craziness like this," she teased, her professionalism slipping for a second as she teased me.

Getting ahold of myself, I brought myself back to composure as I loosened my tie and gave a small smile, "I'll take your advice wholeheartedly, miss," I politely said before bidding farewell and walking toward one of the nearby clusters of empty seats.

Sitting down on the rock chairs, I was somewhat surprised by how comfy they felt.

Like I was sitting on the highest quality pillow money could buy. It was a peculiar experience.

I looked around at some of the other clusters of seats and saw a few that weren't empty. They had a few people sitting around, talking with one another or sitting in silence. Some even had people arguing about something I couldn't quite hear due to the distance between us.

Seeing I had the time to kill, I leaned back into the comfy seat and closed my eyes. I'd be waken up by the clamoring of the masses when it was nearing time to transfer, so it should be fine.

Despite any slithers of nervousness, I quickly drifted into a nap, my training kicking in.

. . .

"Hey."

"Hey, dude."

"Helloooo? You dead or something?"

I cracked an eye open to see someone sitting opposite me. Or a pair, now that I saw it. Twins, if their near identical appearances were anything to go by.

The one who was speaking, a boy of similar age to me, had black hair, matching eyes and awfully pale skin - like he hadn't left a very dark cellar since he was a child. Fitting such a delicate image, his frame was slender, without much muscle beyond the necessary amount and his face had very effeminate features - he looked somewhat like a doll.

His, presumable, sister shared the same features; black hair, black eyes, pale skin and beautiful features that made her look somewhat doll-like.

Though, opposed to her brother, the sister seemed a little more like a doll. Her expressionless face did help that image when compared to the animated smile of the person sitting next to her, the boy seeming thrilled at me opening my eyes.

"Hey there!" he opened with, "Finally back in the land of the living, huh? We've been here for about fifty minutes and you've been out like a light through all of them! Getting a quick nap in before the Transfer?" he seemed to ask but before I could even think of answering he continued speaking, "I mean, I can get where you're coming from. The Transfer is pretty nerve-wracking and these seats are super comfy--Besides, getting enough rest before something as exhausting as the transfer could only be good. Which makes me wonder why I haven't taken a nap--" I began to tune the guy out at that point, taking the time to look around the suddenly much more full transfer room.

There were thousands of people. Everywhere. Though oddly enough, no one was near the three of us currently sitting in this cluster of seats.

Odd.

Regardless of what I found weird, I watched people of all walks of life wander about, talking to one another or just sitting in silence - the latter of which were either in deep thought or letting their anxiety eat away at them.

Slowly, I turned my attention back to the guy opposite me, "--And that's why I always carry an extra pair of underwear no matter where I go. I'm pretty excited to have an inventory - means I can have more back-up underwear."

...What? How did he get from napping and conserving energy to...to extra pairs of underwear?

"...O-okay?" I tentatively replied, not exactly the best at dealing with this type of person. For one, I grew up in a very militant household, so being talkative or having talkative family members was a rare trait in the Donovan family. Which meant I frankly had no idea on how to deal with such an abundance of talking and such varied topics.

The most I'd talked to my grandfather was during training, and even then it was only ever concise and to the point. Besides, I'd only ever had such talks about fighting as well.

The dark-haired man nodded and smiled even wider as he leaned toward me, hand outstretched, "Edward Caines, nice to meet you, mate," he said and gestured to his sister, "This is Natalie, my sister, don't mind her lack of speaking - she's just a little shy!"

For a second, I was caught off guard by the surname but I kept my composure and casually outstretched my arm, grasping the smaller hand in my own.

No callouses. No wear or tear. Conclusion? Definitely not a melee fighter.

Something only confirmed by their surname and who I suspected their mother is.

"William Donovan, a pleasure to meet you too," I replied politely before pulling back and curiously raising an eyebrow toward Edward, "You wouldn't happen to be Elizabeth Caines children, would you?" I asked with an even voice and a small slither of dread crossed Edward's eyes before it disappeared, replaced by an energetic look.

"Yep!" he nodded, confirming my suspicions, "Our mom's the Ice Queen of England!" he put on a bit of fanfare before stopping and seeming to wait for something...but it quickly became apparent whatever he was waiting for wasn't going to happen as he showed a surprised expression, losing his smile for a small frown, "...Huh. Most people scuttle off after that's revealed. I mean, everyone else I told kinda left the area in a hurry--intimidated, I guess?" he asked a rhetorical question before asking a real one, "You're different--...Wait, Donovan? As in David Donovan?" he asked, his eyes widening as he spoke.

Shrugging, I gave a noncommittal nod, "Yeah, he's probably the most prominent member of my family," I said with a slight disinterest. I disliked being compared to David Donovan - it was honestly too much of a hassle. Still, I wasn't going to lie about my connection to him.

It'd make me rising over him and his achievements all the better.

In the end, the talkative Edward...went silent. Just kinda stared at me. It was pretty uncomfortable.

That was until his sister, Natalie, elbowed his and he recovered himself, "Oh--uh, sorry," he awkwardly chuckled, "It's just...I'm not used to talking to someone of similar status--pretty weird right? I was just talking your ear off and now I'm going all tongue tied," he laughed and I smiled wryly as I heard what he said.

"Similar status? The Caines Family is of much higher significance than just a single Military Family. Besides, the Donovan Family hasn't had a Hero-level Warrior in a few generations," I refuted his claim with an even voice, saying what I really thought, "Unlike the Caines Family. You have, what? Three Hero-level Warriors? The strongest one being your mother who's also one of the top Heroes in the entire Alliance."

Edward actually seemed somewhat flustered by the fluff I was saying but before he could reply, he was cut off by a loud voice speaking over speakers that had been along the walls of the transfer room.

"PREPARE FOR TRANSFER!" the voice boomed, crackling over the speakers, "I REPEAT! PREPARE FOR TRANSFER!"

I saw Edward jolt in his seat, his attention torn away from what little rapport we had going on. Seeing this, I spoke up over the clamor around us, "Lets hope we get sent to the same Training Facility. I'd like to see how the scions of the Caines Family do in the Otherworld."

Edward turned to me, as did Natalie, and the two of them actually gave a serious nod to what I'd intended to be a polite reassuring to distract them from their very apparent anxiety. Alas, I wouldn't actually mind being in the same Facility as them. It would be interesting to see how I compared to them.

"TRANSFER IN 10 SECONDS!"

"10!"

"9!"

"8!"

"7!"

"6!"

"5!"

"4!"

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

"TRANSFER UNDERWAY!"

And, thus it began.