“Hey, Gothwald, you coming to grab a beer after classes?” asked a young student standing in the doorway of the lecture hall.
He was addressing Alan, who was standing over a desk, sorting through some papers.
Average height, messy yellow hair, brown eyes, and an ironed brown suit that completely clashed with the black-and-white sneakers he was wearing.
“Nah, I have to prep a project on the Punic Wars, the deadline is coming up fast,” Alan replied.
A black-haired girl walked up next to him.
“Alan, you’re at it again, huh?” she asked with a slight sigh.
Alan looked up at them.
“Geh bitte, it’s because I partied with you guys until I was blue in the face last week that my project isn’t ready!” He waved his hand.
“Next time.”
The guy shrugged.
“Alright, alright, got it.
Next week then?”
“Yeah.”
The guy and the girl nodded and left, leaving Alan alone in the lecture hall.
A few seconds of silence, and then he sat down with a sigh.
‘Freaking unbelievable…
why the hell did I open my mouth?
I shouldn’t have agreed to this project, energy drinks have been my fuel for a week now because of it!
I’m 22, but I feel like I’m 40!’
He massaged the bridge of his nose, and then started gathering the papers into a folder.
Five minutes later, he walked out of Yale University and headed toward a store, adjusting the shoulder bag on his hip.
‘Alright…
so my plan is simple.
A: buy an energy drink, B: get to my dorm room, C: …
what should I write for the project today?
How Rome built a massive fleet from scratch during the First War?
Or how Hannibal crossed the Alps in the Second?
Whatever, I’ll figure it out later.
And finally D: don’t die from exhaustion.’
It had already gotten dark outside, the city streetlights turned on.
Alan walked into the store; a man in his forties was sitting behind the counter, lazily scrolling through his phone, and then looked up.
“Oh, Gothwald, the usual?”
Alan waved his hand.
“Hey, Stone.
Nah, no beer today.” He opened the fridge with the energy drinks.
“Something else today.”
Stone chuckled.
“Swamped at college again, I bet?”
Alan walked up to the counter, setting down two cans.
“You can say that again.” He smirked slightly.
“And you’re not looking too fresh yourself, huh?”
The man sighed as he rang up the drinks.
“It’s the night shift after all, who’d be bursting with energy here.”
Alan took out his bank card and tapped it on the terminal.
“Well, hang in there, see ya around,” he said, turning toward the exit.
Stone nodded.
“Yeah, see ya.”
Alan walked out of the convenience store, immediately popped open a can, and took a sip without delay.
“Ah…
awesome…” he kept walking down the street, lazily sipping the drink from the can.
Kuwise
A female voice echoed behind his back, ringing down the quiet street.
Alan flinched, and then quickly turned around.
No one.
Just a street with dim streetlights.
Alan scratched the back of his head.
“Yeah…
looks like the consequences of four hours of sleep are showing.” He turned back around and kept walking his way.
After a few minutes of walking, it echoed again.
Kuwise
Alan quickly turned around, his heart beating faster.
‘Alright…
this isn’t fucking funny anymore.’
He shook his head, then turned back toward his path, and instantly froze like a
statue.
In front of him, instead of a street, was a massive marble hall, bathed in light with no clear source.
Around him stood about a hundred people in various rich garments, as if from the Middle Ages.
Knights in armor stood by the columns.
Everyone fell silent, staring at him.
Alan blinked.
Blinked again.
And again.
Then he looked at the energy drink can, then at the hall, then back at the can.
“Fuck, Stone, what did you sell me?”
A bearded old man in robes stepped out of the crowd, and then cleared his throat.
“O hero from another world, whom Svyatol has summoned to us, you have answered our call!”
Alan stood looking at the old man with wide eyes.
He was silent for a few seconds, then looked around.
“Is this…
some kind of prank or what?”
Some aristocrats in the hall began to whisper; the old man’s smile twitched.
“Forgive me, hero…
what do you mean?”
He didn’t answer, still looking around in shock.
“Hero?”
Alan opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, the words didn’t come, and he looked around again.
“Am I in a cheap isekai?
What hero?
Are you guys messing with me or what?”
A tall aristocrat with white hair stepped forward from the crowd.
“Hero, could you perhaps express yourself…
more clearly?”
Alan blinked.
“Ala aza aovz…
this isn’t funny anymore!” He abruptly turned around and walked across the hall.
“Alright, where are the cameras?
Where’s the audience?
Seriously, knock it off!
I’ve got a lot of things to do!”
The nobility in the hall looked at him with wide eyes, and immediately started whispering among themselves.
Alan walked up to a knight, and squinted.
“Hmm…
nice props.
Reminds me of the Teutonic Order knights, except from Walmart.” He tapped his finger on the armor.
“Real, too.”
The knight did not react in any way.
Alan turned back to the old man.
“Alrighty then, okay, I see you guys really went all out with the props, but I really don’t have time for this right now.
Where’s the exit?”
The old man hesitated, and then folded his hands in front of him.
“Hero, you…
you are in the royal palace.
Svyatol has sent you to us from another world as a gift.”
Alan narrowed his eyes, and then sighed.
“Alright…
alright…
okay.
If this is another world, why the fuck are you speaking English with me?
I know it’s a global language, but I doubt it reached other worlds.”
The old man exchanged glances with the feudal lords, and then turned back to him.
“You…
mean the language?
‘English’?
Is that your language?”
Alan pressed his lips together.
“Whose else would it fucking be?”
The white-haired aristocrat coughed.
“Thanks to the gift of translation bestowed by Svyatol, we are able to understand one another.”
He waved his hand, frowning.
“Alright, I’ve had enough of this fucking circus.” He spotted a window a few steps away.
“Aha, maybe the exit is there?”
He walked over to the window and looked out of it.
His grimace of annoyance was quickly replaced by wide eyes and an open mouth.
Before him was a massive city, like in the Middle Ages.
In the distance, walls were visible, forests beyond them, the sun shone brightly, tiled roofs gleamed, and white towers stood majestically.
Alan was silent for a few minutes, and then slowly rubbed his hand across his forehead.
“Jessas Maria und Josef…” he whispered.