Veloria? Sounds like an MMORPG Expansion Pack

I was still feeling the grass beside me, rapidly trying to think of a decent reason for why whatever that was just happened.

One minute I was on the train home, dodging people’s gross breath. Next, I was sitting in this grassy field accompanied by some strange, silver-haired lady who just called me “Hero.”

A hero. Yeah, right.

The lady—name unknown—was hovering nearby, watching me like I was some weird bug. Weird way to look at a hero.

I stood up, rubbing the back of my neck. “Okay, can we start with something basic? Like… your name?”

She blinked, then smiled—a little surprised, maybe because other people she summoned didn’t talk back?

“I am Elara, a High Summoner of Veloria.”

High summoner? Fancy title for a lady with a habit of teleporting people into the middle of nowhere without their consent.

“Elara,” I repeated slowly. “Pretty name. Rolls off the tongue. Definitely sounds like someone who would summon a random high schooler without consent.”

She ignored the jab with an elegance that made me feel like I’d just thrown a paper airplane at a tank. “And you? What is your name?”

“Itsuki,” I said. “Itsuki Takaya.”

She nodded like she’d just learned the name of some legendary warrior instead of a guy whose greatest battle was with his snooze button.

“Well then, Itsuki Takaya, I must ask for your cooperation.”

Cooperation. Yeah, right. Because when you get abducted to another world with zero notice, the first thing you want to do is cooperate.

I gave her my patented unimpressed look, something I’ve mastered over my years of being an unsociable nobody.

“Well, Elara, ‘cooperation’ isn’t exactly in my top ten list of things I want to do right now.”

She shifted her staff, eyes glimmering with a strange light. “You are the chosen hero. Your role is to protect Veloria from an impending darkness.”

Impressive. I didn’t realize the apocalypse was on a schedule.

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that? The only thing I’m good at is surviving group projects by pretending to be busy.”

She said nothing. Ignored again. She stared off into the distance as if deciding what to do next. I could practically see the gears turning behind her calm eyes.

“I will explain more as we go.”

I sighed. “Fantastic. Just give me the highlights, and if you could keep the pep talk to a minimum, that’d be great. Being social isn’t exactly a hobby of mine, and I’m still not feeling the whole ‘chosen hero’ vibe yet.”

She nodded, and after a brief chant, what looked to be a summoning circle appeared beneath us and started to glow, pulsing slowly like a heartbeat. The grass around my worn-out sneakers shimmered with what seemed to be some kind of magic.

Before we teleported though, I took one last look around the clearing. Not exactly the hero’s welcome I’d imagine for someone in my shoes. No crowds, no cheers, just me and a woman with glowing eyes.

Elara caught my glance. “The Capital of Veloria is where you must go. There, the king awaits your arrival.”

King. Of course. Just what every reluctant hero needs—royalty and political nonsense.

I grunted. “Lead the way.”

***

The teleport was worse this time. My stomach flipped like I’d swallowed a rollercoaster, and the world blurred into a dizzying flash of light. When my vision cleared, we were standing outside the massive gates of Veloria.

The city was everything I expected from a fantasy world’s capital. Towering stone walls stretched as far as the eye could see, draped with colorful banners fluttering in the breeze. Armed guards in polished armor paced by the entrance, eyeing me with professional suspicion.

Elara strode forward like she owned the place. I followed, feeling like an NPC accidentally thrown into the main quest line.

“Wow.” I couldn’t help but mutter. “Giant stone walls, check. Guards who probably spend more time preening than fighting, check. And no vending machines. Zero stars.”

She didn’t answer. What’s with this woman? I mean, I know I’m not the best at talking to people but come on, that one deserved at least a giggle.

The streets beyond the gates bustled with life: merchants hawking goods, kids darting between legs, the smells of fresh bread and roasting meat in the air. Cobblestones echoed under the steady clatter of hooves and shoes.

I looked around, comparing it silently to Tokyo. Definitely fewer trains.

People gave me strange looks, whispering as they passed. Elara leaned in close, voice barely audible. “They sense your aura.”

My eyes narrowed. “Aura? What aura? I don’t have an aura. I have existential dread and a crippling caffeine addiction.”

She just smiled softly.

***

While weaving through the crowded market, I managed to bump into someone—literally. A girl with a basket of fruit stumbled back like a deer on ice. Apples tumbled everywhere, rolling across the cobblestones like tiny escape artists.

“Oh no no no no no—!” she squeaked, dropping to her knees so fast you’d think gravity owed her money. She scrambled after the fruit, muttering under her breath. “Not again… why does this always happen when I—excuse me—sorry! Please don’t step on the—oh, thank you!”

I crouched down, grabbing an apple before some guy’s boot claimed it. “You uh… seem like you’re in a hurry.”

“Ah! Y-You don’t have to help, really! I can handle—well, sort of handle—uh, thank you anyway!”

Her words tumbled out faster than the fruit. She risked a glance at me, cheeks flushed pink, then quickly looked away like eye contact was a federal offense.

Wow. Social anxiety, party of one. Actually, make that two.

She fumbled the apples back into her basket, gripping it like a lifeline. “Um, thank you again, really. I’m usually not this clumsy! Well, maybe sometimes… okay, a lot of times—but only when I’m not paying attention, which is… okay, that’s most of the time—”

“Got it,” I cut in before she broke the world record for consecutive apologies. “Try to… keep your fruit contained next time.”

Her face went an even deeper shade of pink. “R-Right! I’ll… I’ll do that! Um… have a good day, mister!”

‘Mister’? I’m literally in a school uniform here, but sure, let’s age me up by a decade. Also… wow. She’s kinda pretty. Big eyes, soft features… and, uh, wow. Okay. Those proportions would break school dress codes on sight. Not that I was looking. Much.

Elara tugged my sleeve. Honestly, I forgot she was even beside me. “We should not linger.”

I stood up, brushing off my hands. “Right. Can’t keep the king waiting. Or myself. Because this all feels like a very elaborate nightmare I’m about to wake up from.”

As we walked away, I glanced back briefly. She was still crouched, clutching the basket like her life depended on it, muttering to herself as she double-checked every apple.

Weird girl. But… oddly normal compared to everything else going on. Which is saying something.

***

The castle was in a size class of its own. It was huge. Marble steps stretched up to enormous glass windows that caught the sunlight and scattered rainbows across the walls. Inside, high ceilings echoed with the murmur of courtiers and guards.

I was led through halls lined with tapestries and suits of armor until we reached the throne room.

A man sat perched on a grand chair, his smile practiced but with a chill behind his eyes that made me uneasy. I could only assume that this man was the king.

“I am King Edyrias. You must be the summoned hero.”

“Ah… yeah, about that…” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

He chuckled. The sound didn’t reach his eyes. “The mark does not lie.”

Confused, I looked at Elara, who pointed to the back of her left hand. I looked at the back of my own. A glowing sigil pulsed faintly under my skin.

“What the hell?! Was that there the whole time?”

Elara explained, calm as ever. “It is the Seal of the Summoned. It binds you to this world and this destiny.”

Wonderful. There goes any chance of going home.

I fought down a sigh. “So, what now? There’s a feast, a quest, maybe a magical sword waiting for me in a chest?”

King Edyrias’s smile tightened. “A feast will be held in your honor tomorrow.”

I nodded slowly, trying to seem interested. Just a casual day of being branded as a world-saving hero. No pressure.

***

As I sat on a bench outside the castle, my mind raced. This wasn’t my life anymore. What the hell was I being forced into? Maybe it was some cruel joke, a fantasy-themed punishment for all my sarcasm and cynicism.

I’d never been one to sit with his thoughts, and the situation didn’t seem like one I could change too easily. If I had to play this game, I’d do it my way—solo, reluctant, and armed with nothing but snark and a stubborn streak a mile wide.

Because, at the end of the day, being alone wasn’t a curse—it was a shield. Maybe my only real armor.

And if this world wanted a hero? Well… they’d better be ready for the least cooperative one they’ve ever summoned.