The university classroom was quiet — eerily so, as if the air itself had signed an NDA out of sheer boredom.
At the front, the lecturer was in his usual stance: hunched over, marker in hand, passionately scribbling something about medieval property rights on the whiteboard as if it would someday save a life.
It wouldn't.
At a desk somewhere in the middle row, Ash Wilder sat still, pen tapping softly against his notebook in that slow rhythm of a man teetering on the edge of consciousness.
His dark hoodie was half-zipped, his hair was a carefully calculated mess, and his eyes were glazing over faster than a Krispy Kreme donut.
Law school wasn't what he'd call "inspiring."
Most of the time it felt like being crushed by a stack of outdated legislation with someone whispering "reasonable doubt" in your ear until you snapped.
But today, something kept him from succumbing to sleep's warm embrace.
Correction: someone.
She sat two rows down and one seat left, right by the window where the morning sun framed her like a divine spotlight.
Long, soft brown hair.
Big, bright blue eyes.
A soft, almost dreamlike expression as she absentmindedly doodled in her margin.
And, well... her chest.
Which, in Ash's flustered defense, demanded attention. Not that he stared.
He looked.
Respectfully. Once.
Twice.
Okay maybe three times, but who was counting?
He immediately looked away, cheeks reddening like he'd been caught stealing holy artifacts from a shrine.
'This... this was the kind of girl I want,' Ash thought bitterly.
Beautiful, graceful, completely out of his league, and probably unaware he existed. Just how he liked his heartbreaks.
Then the lights flickered.
Not just in the classroom. Everywhere.
The sun vanished like someone had slapped a filter on reality.
Day turned to night in the blink of an eye.
The whiteboard sizzled. Pens rolled off desks. Students looked up in alarm. Some phones buzzed violently before going dead.
Static filled the air — not sound, but atmosphere, like the universe itself had buffering issues.
And then a voice spoke.
"Come onnn, you shouldn't be doing stuff like that?"
It was the kind of voice that sounded like it played pranks on divine beings for fun.
Lighthearted, mischievous. Like a dude who never read the terms and conditions before launching reality-breaking events.
Another voice followed. Flat, emotionless.
"All humans should be able to hear you now."
"Shit! You could've told me we were live!"
There was a muffled scuffle, a cough, and then the cheerful voice returned — this time more composed. Or trying to be.
"Ahem. Hello, humans! Congratulations! You've officially been selected to participate in the world's most ambitious divine project-slash-death game! That's right! Welcome… to the Apocalypse!"
A beat passed.
Someone in the back of the room whispered, "What?"
Ash blinked.
The girl by the window had stopped doodling.
Her eyes widened. All around them, students were frozen, some glancing around nervously, others reaching for dead phones.
The voice continued, way too cheerful.
"Here's the deal, meatbags! The gods have been watching your planet for centuries, and frankly… it's gotten boring. Fast food. Social media. Reality shows. The bar was low and you limbo'd under it like pros. So! We've decided to spice things up with The Apocalypse Game!"
Ash raised an eyebrow.
'Okay, now I know I fell asleep. There's no way a divine being just roasted us harder than my group chat.'
The voice kept going.
"Here's how it works. We've invited participants from all across the cosmos! Vampires, elves, beastkin, dragonkin, demons, your weird cousin Greg with the glowing eyes — everyone's welcome! And you lucky humans? You're the underdogs! Yay!"
Nobody cheered.
"Now, don't pout! You've got leveling systems now! Skills! Classes! Stats! Loot drops! You'll be able to grow stronger by defeating monsters, creatures… and yes, even other humans. Brutal, right?"
A few gasps rang out in the classroom.
One girl fainted. A guy in the front row threw up into his backpack.
"Now, before we get to the exciting part — watch your screens, everyone!"
Suddenly, thin blue screens flickered into existence before every student.
Transparent, glowing, and impossible to ignore.
Ash squinted at his.
[Initializing Apocalypse Protocol…]
[Assigning Starting Class…]
[Analyzing Personality, Talents, and… questionable browser history.]
Ash paled. "Wait, what?"
[Assigned Class: Basic Negotiator]
[Class Description: You talk. Sometimes it helps.]
[Starting Skill: 'Talk It Out' – Attempt to defuse a hostile situation with calm, logical dialogue. May reduce enemy aggression by 0.03%. Cooldown: 45 minutes.]
"…you've gotta be kidding me," Ash muttered, staring at the screen like it had just slapped him.
The cheerful voice chimed in again. "Some of you will receive mighty battle classes like Sword Saint! Arcane Reaper! Stormcaller! Others… well, you get what you get. Good luck with that."
Ash's jaw clenched.
'Everyone else is getting lightning swords and necromancer powers and I'm out here with "Let's Talk About It" like I'm in a corporate mediation meeting?!'
Another student stood up and screamed.
They vanished in a flash of blue light. One by one, the screens buzzed and people started disappearing — teleported elsewhere.
Ash's pulse quickened.
"Wait wait wait, hold on — can I reroll?! I didn't agree to this! I haven't even had lunch yet!"
The screen in front of him blinked.
[Commencing Randomized Zone Placement…]
[Teleporting in 3… 2… 1…]
"OH COME ON — "
And with that, Ash vanished from the classroom in a burst of pixelated blue light.
...
He reappeared flat on his back in a muddy forest clearing, surrounded by trees that definitely didn't exist in the university landscaping budget.
His hoodie was soaked. His face was muddy. His phone still had no signal.
And his only weapon?
A stick.
A literal stick.
Ash sat up slowly, wiped mud from his cheek, and groaned.
"This is the worst group project I've ever been in."
He sighed.
Then he noticed the glowing red eyes peering at him from the trees.
"...Or I die in the prologue. That's also on-brand."