Finally, I was with them again. A wave of gratitude and relief surged through my chest. I stopped at the edge of the circle, my eyes fixed on the man called Leopold, the one who had brought us all here. His appearance was anything but ordinary. He had a thick beard that reached his chest, long graying hair, and eyes that glowed with a peculiar pink hue. Just looking at him sent shivers down my spine. I’ll have to tread carefully with this man, I thought.

“First of all, good afternoon—or is it good morning? Maybe good evening?” I asked, not out of necessity, but to lighten the heavy tension that hung in the room.

“Good evening,” Leopold replied with a touch of satisfaction, as if pleased that someone had finally shown some civility.

“We’re in Allythéon, but where exactly? And while we’re at it, would you mind introducing yourself? I’m Dalton Xavier.”

“Oh, how rude of me,” Leopold said with a slight bow. “You may call me Leopold Stargazer, the President of the Royal Magical Tower of this realm. The kingdom of Allythéon lies in the central continent, bordered by the empires of Ember, Ragnar, and Kronos, as well as the kingdoms of Vinland, Stormhaven, Galadriel, the Continental Sea, the Sea of Shadows, and the Berserk and Atlantic Oceans.”

I rested one arm over the other, my hand on my chin, processing what he had said. “And where exactly is this on planet Earth?”

“Ah, what a blunder on my part!” Leopold said, as if realizing something he should have explained sooner. “Due to the abruptness of your arrival, I neglected to mention this. You are not on planet Earth. You are in a world called Asgardia. And more than that, you come from another dimension.”

Shock rippled through all of us. What he was saying seemed impossible, but the truth felt even further away. “Is there a way for us to return?” I asked, needing to know, though dreading the answer.

“Why do you ask a question to which you already know the answer?” Leopold responded, his voice grave.

“Excuse me?” I replied, confusion overtaking me.

“You’ve already died, haven’t you?” Leopold continued, unhurried. “Do you wish to return knowing that? It’s the first time I’ve seen anyone so eager to go back six feet under.” He sighed, as if struggling to understand our insistence.

Leopold’s words landed like a heavy blow on everyone—except me. I had already made peace with my death. For the others, however, that harsh truth cut deep, like a blade slicing through flesh. Silence enveloped the room as we each processed the revelation in our own way. I watched them, trying to gauge how they were handling it. The shock was plain on their faces, the weight of what they had just learned evident in their expressions. And yet, I couldn’t suppress a thought that crept into my mind: They still had hope. While I had moved beyond such notions.

Before I could say anything further, Elizabeth—the most pragmatic among us—spoke up. She asked the question we had all been circling around but had been too afraid to voice.

“I get it, and yet I don’t. Context, please. You’re the President of the Magical Tower, you said? Does that mean there’s magic in this world? And why, exactly, did you summon us here?” Her voice was steady, with only a hint of skepticism. The idea of magic seemed absurd, a fantasy from a storybook. But, evidently, reality no longer cared for limits.

Leopold sighed, once again looking exasperated, as though tired of explaining concepts that were second nature to him. He seemed unaccustomed to dealing with people so removed from the intricacies of his world.

“One way or another, I would have had to explain this,” he replied, as if stating the obvious. “Yes, there is magic in this world. Yours, it seems, is not blessed with such wonders.” He smiled faintly, with a hint of pity, as though addressing children who had grown up without ever seeing the sun.

He continued, his tone shifting as if recounting an ancient tale, one he believed we were not yet worthy of hearing. “Twenty-five years ago, a prophecy was made. In it, our kingdom was destined to fall to ruin. Many more prophecies followed, some with slightly better outcomes, but the kingdom never thrived. Since then, we’ve dedicated ourselves to crafting contingency plans to counter these prophecies. After all, prophecies are not absolute; they can be altered if certain events take place.”

He paused, choosing his next words carefully, his voice thick with significance.

“And so, one of those plans involved a tome and ancient scrolls discovered 15 years ago. They detailed a method to summon souls—and their bodies—from other worlds into ours. We poured every resource we had into this endeavor because such souls carried with them knowledge, skills, and potential that could either lead us to prosperity or destroy us.”

Leopold let his words hang in the air before continuing, his gaze scanning our reactions.

“We decided to summon wandering souls—those who had already died. It was challenging, as the summoned had to be individuals who had only just passed away, so that their bodies could also be transported intact.”

His revelation lingered like a storm cloud above us, its weight pressing down. For the first time, our situation felt starkly real, the magnitude of it sinking in. I glanced at the others, reading their faces:

Luca stared at Leopold with increasing intensity, perhaps searching for something more.
Elizabeth was in shock, but there was also a growing look of doubt on her face.
Nicole seemed to be trying to connect what she had heard with what she had experienced.
Even Benjamin, usually aggressive, seemed more thoughtful, his previously irritated stance becoming tense.

“So, all of this... was an attempt to save the kingdom?” Elizabeth asked, still trying to process the logic. “And we... were chosen for this?” Her voice was a mix of disbelief and understanding.

“Chosen, or more precisely, brought here,” Leopold replied, a touch of bitterness in his voice. “You were summoned, not by fate, but by desperate need. The kingdom requires souls capable of bringing power and skills. You are the instruments of a risky move to save Allythéon.”

Those last words hung in the air like a veiled threat, and all of us, silent, began to grasp the meaning of Leopold’s words. We weren’t heroes chosen by a god or a benevolent force. We were brought here to serve a purpose, and that purpose, once again, was being imposed upon us without our consent. We were mere pieces on a board we didn’t understand.

A heavy silence fell over the room. The man in the throne, who had said nothing until then, was watching us with an unwavering gaze. Finally, he moved, leaning forward, his fingers lightly resting on the arm of his throne.
His solemn expression, filled with guilt—guilt he was doing everything to conceal. At last, his deep, gravelly voice broke the silence.

“YES!”