Sam had visited a friend who’d gone to school in Minneapolis their first year of university. On a whim, they’d gone to a local NFL game, and Sam remembered being impressed by the size of the stadium. He recalled looking up the capacity later and being shocked that it fit almost seventy thousand people.
The arena above him could have swallowed that stadium twice over.
He stood at the bottom of a massive bowl, the sheer scale of the colosseum making him feel like one of the tiny humans in the carvings. The crowd pulsed and seethed as more people flooded in; the long rows of benches meant they were forced to scramble over each other to find space. Looking up, Sam realized the open top must go all the way to the summit of the mesa. He couldn’t imagine the time it would have taken to carve the arena out of the stone.
His eyes were eventually drawn down to eye level, and the thousands of warriors gathered in front of an imposing crystal obelisk rising out of the sand. The purple translucent stone reminded him of amethyst, its wide base shooting upwards fifty meters before coming to a jagged point. The stone was shot through with veins of gold, and Sam could feel the energy radiating off of it. It looked like a twin to the obelisk he’d seen before being dragged through the portal, only this one was about four times the size. The pull in his gut gave one final tug before dissipating, and he heard a brief chime as the quest completed.
He walked forward and realized he was one of the last ones to arrive, his timer indicating only two minutes before the ceremony began. He made his way to the edge of the crowd, trying to get a sense of the other warriors. He could see a group of people like the pale giant he’d encountered earlier, as well as a few tzen, and others he didn’t recognize. The stout woman next to him only came up to his waist, her long black hair pulled back in a series of complex braids. Her dark skin was covered in a web of silver tattoos that almost looked as if they were inked in metal. She caught him looking at her and gave him a glare, her lip curling as she took in his bloody bandages.
Sam gulped as he returned to scanning the crowd. There were a number of humans present, men and women, young and old. It did truly seem random. The god at least appeared to have been telling the truth in that regard. Some looked as confused as he did, though most had determined expressions, everyone staring up at the amethyst column.
The countdown on his quest screen hit zero, and the crowd went silent.
The absence of sound pressed against him like a physical weight, the unrelenting force of hundreds of thousands of impatient eyes. Sam felt his chest compress, and he had a sudden image of his legs giving out.
He forced himself to breathe, manually shovelling air into his lungs. His vision cleared, and he noticed the golden veins within the spire beginning to pulse with radiant light. The pulses started slowly, accelerating at a steady rate. A low hum filled the air, and Sam got the sense of standing next to a space shuttle in the moments before launch. The rhythmic hum rose into a roar, and the ground beneath him trembled as if pounded by an army of giants.
Suddenly, a beam of golden plasma shot from the tip of the column, sending out a waist-high wave of dust. The force of it knocked him back a step, eyes straining as the arena was bathed in a blinding surge of light.
The beam rose all the way to the roof of the arena before diffusing, the energy forming a cloud which whirled with hidden fractals. The shapes condensed and solidified into a figure that stood ten stories high.
It was different from any of the aliens that Sam had seen so far, with long, graceful limbs that were swathed in flowing purple robes. Its skin took on a silvery, metallic quality, and its featureless face stared down at them through hollow, empty sockets. It had no mouth, yet its voice reverberated through the arena.
“Greetings, Warriors. Welcome to Olympos, and the start of The Seven Rings War. You have been gathered from across the cosmos to compete for the highest honour a mortal may aspire to: entrance into the Halls of Eternity.”
The genderless, robotic voice crashed in Sam’s mind, and he thought he could get a sense of the vast intelligence behind it. When he’d spoken to the god on Earth, he could feel that it was something ancient, something alien. This was something else. The presence of this being was like sandpaper on his skin, and he could feel himself being crushed under its gaze.
“Those who enter the Halls will be given a choice: to remain on Olympos as an immortal paragon, or to return to their home worlds, equipped with the boons of their patron.”
The being disappeared then, the light reforming into a series of flashing images, a massive hologram projected from the tip of the stone. Sam could make out warriors from throughout the ages, fighting against monsters and each other. Sometimes it was hard to tell which was which, as one of the alien species appeared to be some kind of giant beetle, crushing a Tzen’s head in its pincers. Some of the humans looked vaguely familiar, and Sam swore he recognized one charging into battle wearing a powdered wig.
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So it was possible to get home! Sam could feel a manic grin forming on his face. Other humans had done it; there was a way to get back. His heart pounded at the revelation, and he caught some of the other warriors nodding along in excitement.
More images flashed from the spire, warriors wielding blades of fire, or shooting arrows made of pure shadow. He saw a bear-like creature rip the wing off of a dragon, and plunge the elbow spine into its eye. He saw a waifish elf summon a tempest of lightning and eradicate an entire field of soldiers.
The battles stretched across space and time. Over icy mountain sides and steamy jungles, vast deserts and glittering caves. Sam saw mortals wield incredible magic, and for every one who seemed all-powerful, another rose to strike them down.
The montage came to an end, showcasing a group of seven warriors standing on a windswept peak, surrounded by a mountain of corpses. Their shining armour glowed with arcane runes, and Sam could feel the power that resonated from them even through the projection. The picture zoomed out, and Sam experienced a sense of vertigo, as the world seemed to pivot around him.
He was looking down at a massive spire.
The tower was tiered with multiple levels, and it reminded him of an oversized wedding cake. The first level was composed of rolling forests and rich valleys, with the second seemingly carved into the impassable cliffs. Above that, it grew foggier, with dense clouds obscuring the details.
Sam blinked and found himself back on the sands, the large figure above them reforming from the pillar of light. “To reach the Halls, you must pass the trials of the Seven Rings. Each Ring will require a tribute of spira to open the Valhallen Gates. Higher rings will test you further, with quests chosen by the Herald of War. However, you are not on this journey alone.” The being paused, and Sam could feel the tension in the stadium like a palpable force.
“Upon the completion of each Ring, you may permanently add another warrior to your party. Choose wisely, for the ones at your side will determine how high you climb. Only one group will reach the summit, defeating all others to gain entry into the halls and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with The Pantheon.”
Sam felt the words in his gut like a physical blow, his eyes going wide as he stared at the warriors around him. Most of the humans seemed to be having the same reaction, but the rest of the races stood resolute in the face of the challenge. He recalled the words from the text message, saying only seven souls would survive, but the reality of it hadn’t really registered.
How many thousands of us are here, and only seven will survive? His mind reeled as the being above them dissolved again, replaced by an image of four, near-identical arenas. Sam noticed that the composition of warriors was different in each arena, with one seemingly made up of only the giant beetle aliens. In another, he saw more of the large bear-like creatures, their muscular frames looking awkward in the stiff grey tunics.
Sam’s stomach dropped another notch as the reality of the situation set in. He was going to have to assemble a party and not only overcome the monsters that lived in the rings, but also somehow defeat thousands of other warriors.
It took all of his willpower to stop himself from simply sitting down in the dirt. His breath came in short gasps, and stars began to form at the edges of his vision. He gripped his belt and found it strangely comforting, the familiar leather band his only remaining connection to home. He steadied himself and forced his eyes back up at the projection, which was now zooming out and showing a more detailed look at the first ring.
Sam realized he was at one of the four cardinal points, East, if he had to guess based on what Arther had said. The same protrusion of rock was mirrored in each direction, and cities were built around each one. They were vastly different in terms of style, and he noticed one that seemed more hive-like than anything else. He could make out the beetles crawling over it like a swarm of ants, and it triggered a deep sense of revulsion in the animal part of his brain.
“While assembling a party will be key, your own individual journeys are no less important,” the figure continued. “As the Arbiter of this war, it is my imperative to aid you in this quest and to ensure you're able to survive the trials ahead. As such, I have unlocked access to each cardinal city’s crafting network, as well as its many trainers and Timeless Wardens. Use them to advance your skills and hone the weapons needed to ascend.”
The being paused again, the projection showcasing various stores, guilds, merchants and forges.
“However, strength of arms will not be enough to guarantee survival, for to walk the path of Olympos, you must walk in the footsteps of the gods themselves.”
At that, a series of blinding flashes erupted in the sky. Sam was forced to cover his eyes, the explosions burning into his retinas. Looking up, he saw hundreds of figures materialize, hovering in the air around the Arbiter.
They took all manner of shapes, though most were humanoid. Sam thought he could make out one that looked like an elephant floating on a cloud.
The majority wore shimmering golden robes, while others were clad in suits of armour or coarse leathers covered in matted fur. Sam thought he recognized some from Earth’s various mythologies. Myths—he now realized—that were likely more real than their modern-day equivalents.
The eclectic architecture of Homst began to make sense, with the various warrior races being influenced by the same sets of deities. He wondered if there were equivalent Earth cultures on other worlds. Had the gods built pyramids all across the universe?
As the last of the gods arrived, Sam felt himself shrink down, eyes searching for the one face he knew he’d absolutely recognize.
He didn't have long to wait.

