"Aah… it's been seven days—seven soul-crushing, cinema-deprived days—and if I don't see an explosion, a love triangle, or at least a decent jump cut soon, I swear I'll start hallucinating end credits."
"They've got dragons, magic, and talking swords here—but not a single rom-com or badly CGI'd superhero in sight. What kind of barbaric world is this?"
"Ironically, I died bawling my eyes out during the climax of Eternal Petals, right as the heroine whispered 'I'll wait for you'—and my heart apparently took that way too literally."
"Now I'm stuck in a world where people duel with flaming swords and casually wrestle ogres, while I get heart palpitations just stubbing my toe."
"What am I supposed to do here—challenge a dragon to a staring contest and hope it appreciates character-driven storytelling?"
"I'm not going out there—nope, not a chance. I'll just stay in my room, under this scratchy blanket, and hope my new family forgets that I exist."
"Oh, right—before you start judging me, let me introduce myself. My name is David Goliath… oh, sorry, I mean David Golis. Easy mistake. I'm not exactly giant-slaying material. A certified movie maniac, proud coward, and now... apparently the lead in a genre I never auditioned for."
"Anyway, as I was saying—lover of films, hater of pain, and—" "DAVID GOLIS! IF YOU DON'T GET UP THIS INSTANT, I'M SENDING YOU TO MILITARY SCHOOL WITH YOUR COUSIN!"
"—terrified of my new fantasy mom, apparently."
David rolled out of bed like a man carrying the weight of cinematic withdrawal. His hair stuck out in every direction, and his eyes held the quiet despair of someone who hadn't seen a movie in a week.
He washed up at the wooden basin in the corner of his room. The water was cool and refreshing, the soap smelled faintly of lavender and forest herbs, and the soft linen towel was surprisingly pleasant—old-fashioned, but not terrible. Honestly, it was better than some cheap hotels back on Earth.
After changing into his school uniform—a simple but neatly-stitched tunic and trousers—David made his way downstairs.
Breakfast was already on the table. A warm slice of roasted meat, some fresh bread, and two perfectly cooked eggs greeted him. It wasn't cinema snacks, but it wasn't bad. Actually... it was kind of good.
His mother, tall and strong with a voice that could wake the dead, stood with arms crossed.
"School. Now."
David sighed dramatically, took one last bite of bread, and stuffed the scroll she handed him into his satchel.
The cobblestone path to Arcane Academy was sunlit and peaceful—if you ignored the occasional explosion in the distance or the winged creatures flying overhead like it was completely normal.
Ten minutes later, David reached the towering gates of Arcane Academy.
The school looked like someone had taken a castle, a wizard tower, and a small battlefield, and mashed them together with artistic flair and zero concern for safety codes. Spires floated mid-air, banners flapped on their own without wind, and a stone gargoyle at the entrance sneezed when he walked past.
Students bustled through the front courtyard, robes fluttering, spellbooks levitating, and the occasional elemental spirit tagging along like magical pets. One kid rode in on a flaming broomstick, another was arguing with a talking skull, and somewhere in the distance, something exploded—again.
David sighed.
Class began with the usual bang—literally, as someone's desk caught fire during roll call.
David took his seat near the back, trying to look invisible. The classroom was carved from smooth marble and enchanted wood, with glowing runes etched into the walls that pulsed gently like they were breathing. At the front stood the teacher—Lady Selena, a vision of elegance in flowing violet robes, with silver hair, piercing blue eyes, and the kind of presence that could silence a room just by raising an eyebrow.
Unfortunately, she used that presence to explain ancient rune theory.
"Now, class," she said with a radiant smile, "today we'll be discussing the Resonant Tri-Script of Etherial Harmonics—an intermediate rune sequence used for stabilizing layered enchantments across multidimensional matrices."
David blinked.
"...What?"
He stared at the board. The runes looked like a toddler tried to draw spaghetti with lightning.
"What in the Harry Potter, Lord of the Runes, Merlin-on-a-magic-stick nonsense is this?" David whispered, staring at the board like it had personally offended his last three brain cells.
A few minutes into Lady Selena's rune-summoning monologue, David's eyes began to betray him. No matter how hard he tried, his eyelids grew heavier by the second—like someone had swapped his eyelashes with tiny weights. He blinked. Once. Twice. Then, nothing.
It was as if an invisible hand had glued his eyelids shut and whispered, "Sleep now, sweet idiot."
His head dipped, chin landing on the desk with a soft thunk, and he muttered something incoherent about Oscar nominations before slipping into unconsciousness like a man drifting into a Netflix binge he never signed up for.
A sharp thwack hit the back of his head—like a scroll, a book, or divine punishment—and David jolted upright with a gasp.
Eyes wide, hair sticking up like he'd been struck by lightning, he found the entire class staring at him. Lady Selena included. And she did not look impressed.
David gave them all an awkward, toothy smile—the kind that screamed "I'm innocent, mildly confused, and possibly concussed."
Selena arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and crossed her arms.
"Well then, Mister Golis, since you clearly had time for a nap, I trust you understood everything I taught today. Care to answer a question?"
The room went dead silent. Even the floating candles seemed to hold their breath.
Selena turned to the board and gestured to a shimmering rune sequence glowing faintly in mid-air.
"Explain the tri-layer interaction between the Etherial Harmonic core and the stabilizing glyphs in a Class-2 binding circle."
David's soul momentarily left his body.
His mouth moved before his brain could intervene.
"With great power... comes great responsibility?"
A beat of silence followed. Somewhere, a quill snapped in slow motion.
Selena blinked. The class stared. Somewhere in the back, someone choked on their mana biscuit.
"...What?" she asked, her tone dangerously calm—like a storm cloud in heels.
David straightened up, cleared his throat, and added,
"I-I mean… theoretically, when the harmonic energy resonates… responsibly… with great… power… it stabilizes… things?"
He ended with a hopeful smile that looked more like a man begging not to be turned into a frog.
Selena stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she slowly turned to the board and, without breaking eye contact, tapped her wand against it.
"Class, please note: that is not the correct answer—unless you plan to stabilize your runes with bad philosophy and wishful thinking."
The classroom erupted in laughter, and David sank lower into his seat, mentally composing an apology letter to every wizard ever.
For the rest of the period, Lady Selena continued her lecture on runes with the kind of intensity usually reserved for battlefield generals and overly enthusiastic museum guides. She spoke about energy flow, glyph symmetry, and harmonic resonance as if it were the most thrilling thing in the world. Diagrams floated mid-air, chalk wrote itself across the board, and at least two students developed minor nosebleeds from magical overload.
David, meanwhile, nodded occasionally with the blank stare of a man trying to survive a foreign language exam in space.
Then, mercifully, the bell rang—a soft chime that sounded like enchanted wind chimes having a polite argument—and class was dismissed. Students gathered their scrolls, wands, and familiars, still giggling as they filed out. David stayed frozen in his seat, silently thanking whatever ancient god invented school bells.
Selena didn't say another word as she walked past him, but the raised eyebrow she left behind felt like it was permanently etched into his soul.
By afternoon, the sun hung low in the sky, casting golden rays over the sprawling city of Elarion. As soon as class ended, David bolted out of the Arcane Academy like a man escaping prison—if prison had pop quizzes and rune-based humiliation.
He didn't have far to go. Right next door, separated only by a shimmering mana barrier and a rather judgmental statue of a hero holding both a sword and a spellbook, stood the Warrior Division—a place that felt like someone bottled adrenaline and turned it into a building.
It was loud, chaotic, and smelled faintly of sweat, steel, and ambition. Grunts echoed from the training fields, blades clashed in perfect rhythm, and the sound of boots slamming the ground in synchronized drills could probably shake a mountain.
David, of course, hated everything about it.
Except for two reasons.
His best friend… and his childhood sweetheart.
Both trained here. Both were terrifyingly competent. And both were blissfully unaware of how close he had come to answering a rune theory question with a "Fast & Furious" quote earlier that day.
"With great power... comes great responsibility," David blurted.
A beat.
"Wait, was that Spider-Man or Fast and Furious?"
As he jogged past the training grounds, David glanced at the warrior squads in action—sweaty, intense, and way too comfortable getting punched in the face. Meanwhile, he was lost in thought.
"Other protagonists always want to be loners," he mused, "brooding on mountains or sulking in forests like tragic heroes with six-pack abs."
"But me? I'm an otaku. I didn't even touch a girl's hand in my last life—unless you count high-fiving my screen during a beach episode."
He smirked as he neared the sparring rings.
"Now I've got a childhood sweetheart who actually likes me. Why in the multiverse would I go off and be alone?"
Then he saw her—standing in the middle of the training ring like a goddess of war wrapped in sunlight.
Braided hair, toned arms, and a glare sharp enough to cut steel. She wore leather armor and held a practice sword that looked more like a sharpened insult to anyone foolish enough to challenge her.
Without hesitation, David sprinted across the field, dodging flying weapons and shouting trainees.
"LISA!!" he cried, launching himself at her like an emotionally unstable missile.
He threw his arms around her in a dramatic hug, burying his face into her armored shoulder.
"They made me answer runes! I was awake, then asleep, then awake again, and I think I accidentally quoted Spider-Man in front of a magical war professor!"
And just like that, he broke down. Not with sobs—but with the kind of theatrical weeping that only someone raised on anime could perform with dignity.
Lisa blinked, her practice sword still in hand, completely caught off guard.
"What?" she said flatly, looking down at the emotional mess clinging to her shoulder.
"David, are you having a stroke? Or is this just another one of your weird post-class dramas?"
She gently tried to peel him off like someone removing a clingy cat, her brows furrowed in confusion.
"Spider-Man? Runes? Are you hurt, or did your brain just overheat again?"
David sniffled. "A little bit of both."
Lisa sighed, slipping her sword back into the practice rack as David clung to her like a dramatic cloak.
"You're lucky you're cute when you panic," she muttered, finally managing to pry him off and hold him at arm's length. "Now breathe. Slowly. Inhale, exhale. Try not to collapse into interpretive sobbing."
David looked up with glassy eyes.
"It was horrible, Lisa. The runes were glowing. The board was floating. Lady Selena looked into my soul and judged my entire lineage."
Lisa raised an eyebrow.
"So… regular arcane studies, then?"
"No! This was advanced humiliation magic."
She gave a snort of laughter and smacked his forehead lightly with her glove.
"You're such a disaster."
The moment her glove tapped his forehead—lightly, like a playful bop from someone who'd done it a thousand times before—something snapped in the air.
A chime rang in his ears, not like the school bell or a spell trigger, but like someone had pressed play on the universe's weirdest DVD menu.
Suddenly, everything around him froze. Lisa, mid-eye-roll. The clashing swords in the background. Even a bird stuck mid-flap in the sky.
Then, in front of him, glowing golden letters appeared out of thin air, floating just above Lisa's head.
🎬 Welcome, Director David Golis.
Your cinematic journey begins now.
[Movie Director System Initializing…]
Please remain seated. Or standing. Or dramatically overwhelmed. All acceptable. 🎬
David blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then whispered, "…Lisa, what did you hit me with?"