Chapter 1 - Hello, World!

Patrick: "If this is some kind of joke, it’s a terrible one."

The air was thick with smoke and incense, and the heavy scent of blood clung to the walls like damp rot. It was the sort of smell that made breathing feel like swallowing something that didn’t want to go down.

Patrick Doherty awoke with a groan that echoed through the stone chamber. His back was pressed against cold stone, slick with a substance he hoped was water, but already suspected wasn't. The light above him was dim and flickering, the kind that danced more than it shone, shadows thrown wild across carved stone pillars and walls lined with faded banners.

And finally, in the centre of the room, glowing faintly under his bare arse, was a circle etched in jagged, unfamiliar runes.

???: "He's alive. He's alive! We did it! I told you it would work this time, didn't I?"

The voice came from a man in pale robes, scrolls tucked under one arm and dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, or weeks for that matter.

Patrick pushed himself up with effort, the weight of his own limbs heavier than usual. A pounding ache settled in behind his eyes, like a hangover without the fun beforehand. His voice came out hoarse, scratchy with disbelief.

Patrick: "Where the hell am I!? You have some nerve taking me here! I was drunk... but not drunk-drunk! Like come on!"

Head Researcher: "So, mild cognitive clarity. That’s promising."

While Patrick blinked, his brain still halfway between panic and confusion, the man in front of him turned slightly to the gathered mages behind him.

Head Researcher: "Subject Thirty-Seven is responsive. No immediate signs of summoning backlash or soul inversion. Possibly stable. Remarkable. What is your name, sir?"

Patrick: "..."

Head Researcher: "..."

Patrick: "..."

Head Researcher: "...your name, sir?"

Patrick: "Taking a man and you don't even know his name? At least do me the favour of a background check! Patrick. Patrick Doherty! Well... I'm more so known as 'Paddy'."

Head Researcher: "Ok, Paddy, any sort of-"

Paddy: "Sorry, Thirty-seven? What happened to One through Thirty-Six!?"

The man gestured toward the corpse pile without looking at it. Paddy followed his hand, then paused for a moment. Three dozen of them, maybe even more than that, stacked like wood at a bonfire. Patrick blinked hard.

Head Researcher: "They were… unsuccessful."

No one argued.

Patrick: "You don’t say! What did you even do to those lads and ladies over there!?"

...

Patrick: "Listen, I think you’ve got the wrong man."

Head Researcher: "On the contrary. You’re the first to survive. That makes you exactly the right one."

The man’s voice was calm, almost disturbingly so, as though Paddy hadn’t just been plucked from his home and dropped head-first into some sketchy dungeon.

Behind him, the mages were still moving around in a strange mixture of panic and reverence. One scribbled furiously in a floating tome. Another gagged into the sleeve of their robe. A third kept casting nervous glances toward the corpse pile, like it might get up and walk again.

Head Researcher: "Everyone, we finally have completed phase three. Now, for-"

Paddy: "Will you just tell me what is going on here man!? I didn’t sign up for any of this. You think just because I didn’t explode on arrival, I’m fair game for whatever the hell is going on here!? No way! No way man!"

The man stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, and lowered his voice just enough to sound like he was trying to be gentle. It didn’t help.

Head Researcher: "You misunderstand. This is not coercion. It is history. You are the first recorded successful human transfer! A true marvel! You must be a powerful hero only spoken about in legends! I understand this must be disorienting. Perhaps mild instability of identity but-"

Paddy: "My identity’s perfectly stable, thank you! I drink cans on the weekend, work on the weekdays, and I have no clue what you mean by summoned, but you have clearly gone and summoned the wrong fella."

At that moment, the chamber’s door clanked open. A young assistant stumbled in, sweaty and frantic.

Assistant: "Master! The haul from the experiment! We... We’ve catalogued more relics!"

Behind him, a pair of attendants struggled to wheel in a rickety wooden cart stacked with mismatched junk. 

Paddy instantly recognised most of the objects on the cart, and on top of that pile sat something that made his brain short-circuit.

On top of it all sat a grimy, half-broken vending machine, glowing slightly as if even it  was confused by the situation. The head researcher spun on his heel.

Head Researcher: "Ah! Excellent timing! Our summoned hero may be able to see through their uses!"

He turned to Paddy and gestured grandly to the vending machine like it was the greatest thing to ever exist, well, ever.

Head Researcher: "Do you recognise this… divine construct?"

Paddy: "..."

Patrick looked at it. Then looked at them. Then back at it.

Patrick: "That’s... a vending machine."

He scribbled it down. Another mage touched the machine reverently.

Assistant: "It hums softly. As though it's… alive."

Patrick: "It’s not alive. It sells drinks... when you put money into it..."

Head Researcher: "The Hero communicates with metal gods through tribute-based mechanisms. Interesting."

The head researcher’s face lit up with childlike wonder. Paddy just took a deep breath at the situation he was in. He looked around the room, the glowing runes, the scholars writing down every twitch he made, and the corpse pile just quietly decomposing in the corner like it had seen things.

Then, without warning, without hesitation, he reeled back and planted a lethal knee directly into the head researcher’s bollocks.

Head Researcher: "AAAAAAAARGH!!!"

The man dropped like a sack of cabbages, clutching himself as he collapsed to the floor with a wheeze.

For half a second, nobody moved.

Then-

Paddy: "NOPE."

In nothing but his birthday suit, he bolted for the only door in the room.

Head Researcher: "Did anyone... lock the door behind them?"

Assistant: "I thought they did!"

Head Researcher: "DAMN IT!! AFTER HIM!"

Paddy vanished into the hallway with the sound of clanking armour and flapping robes behind him.

He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know what any of this was. But he knew one thing for certain:

If legends were written about this moment, he hoped they mentioned how fast he was, and not the bit where he was still barefoot and slightly damp.