"Listen, Alexander. You can't just come in here every week and only check the 'Dungeon Runner' box expecting a miracle to happen. Just check anything else, so that you can explore other professions that you can actually do? Please? You'll end up being a cashier your whole life."
Alexander exhaled loudly while pinching his nose bridge.
"That's the only thing I want to do, Harold. That's what my father did."
"Your father, blessed be his soul, was barely ever sober. Let's just assume someone with a drinking problem doesn't always take the right path in life. It's an extremely dangerous vocation that requires receiving an archetype, something you still haven't received."
Alexander paused, nodding.
Harold wasn't a bad person, he truly just wanted the best for him, something he could respect.
"He was a dungeon runner for a single month and that was the first time I had ever seen him sober for so long. Despite everything he's done, that was the one month he felt alive after my mom...—I've decided. I'll be a cashier until I receive my archetype."
The man wearing a gray suit leaned back, throwing the documents on the desk. He held his face with both his hands, while groaning in despair.
The office they were in looked like Harold had grown in it. Shelves full of books, mementos and souvenirs that must've spanned decades. Some of them most likely a gift from Alexander's father.
Harold suddenly raised his hands, before letting them hit the desk.
"You're killing me! Just pick anything… There's a need for electricians, how about we sign you up for that, huh? You could at least see if you like it! Come-on, Alexander!"
Harold had a hopeful tone, something Alexander heard more often lately. He could tell he was inching toward insanity from their meetings, something he could do nothing about.
He shook his head. "I don't have anyone, anymore, Harold. No family, no friends, nothing to go on for. The only thing I have, is this memory of my father who found himself once he received his archetype. He had purpose, I want to find that too."
He felt slight guilt. One could see that his comments hurt Harold, despite his attempt at keeping a straight face.
Alexander stood up, and walked toward the door ready to exit the office before turning around.
Harold, who was now hunched over the documents hurriedly tossed the pen he held, his eyes jumping up as he pushed the papers back.
"You're really checking those boxes yourself again?" he said in a sigh.
"Listen, with your father gone, someone has to look out for you—Those guys, dungeon runners, they're dangerous! Do you know how many have gone missing?"
"I can look out for myself, but thanks. Don't forget to un-check those boxes," said Alexander, leaving.
He exited the building, a fresh breeze welcoming him.
Harold's office was downtown, a place he didn't particularly appreciate. Prices were extremely high, a simple coffee could cost up to ten times the price he would get close to his place.
His eyes went up, where shades of gray that covered the sky were hinting toward a storm.
Wish I had an umbrella…
He wasn't downtown often, but his weekly visit was something he learned to enjoy as the bus station was right next to the Adventurer's Guild, a large skyscraper that towered above the others.
At the first glance, its appearance resembled any other buildings surrounding it, with its glass panel exterior covering it. The most interesting thing about it was how there always was a lot of people in and out of it, most of them being dungeon runners.
Maybe I'll see the guild leader 'Titan', today?
The previous week Midas, the leader of the #1 guild, Gilded Order, had shown up. He barely ever appeared in public, his guild known for taking little breaks and spending their lives inside dungeons.
Alexander walked toward the bus stop, his eyes dissecting the crowd moving in and out of the Adventurer's Guild.
What's happening?
The crowd, one by one, started looking up. Some used their elbows to poke those next to them, their finger pointing toward the sky.
Alexander stopped walking, his gaze following the direction everyone looked at.
The gray clouds that covered the sky had split, a giant dark slit opened with pure darkness inside it, beyond anything he had seen before.
It felt as if time had stopped, nobody moved.
Everyone stared, as the slit opened to form an eye shape, its content a most profound emptiness that seemed to stretch far beyond, like a gate leading into an expanding void.
Through the darkness however, something appeared.
It was small at first, but quickly grew in size.
An eye?!
He took a few steps back, his hand tightly balled into fists.
The iris that slowly looked left and right was as dark as the place it came from.
Alexander's heart was beating faster, his hands slightly trembling as he stood still.
The eye finally stopped moving.
Is it looking at us?!
Everyone who stood near the guild had a short moment of internal panic.
Some of the Dungeon Runners tightly holding their weapons, the metal clanking as their hands shook too much.
Alexander heard them, "How can we even deal with that?!"
Is this an event?!
They were getting more frequent.
Events were usually quickly dealt with, it could be a horde of goblins appearing downtown or a single headless chariot causing chaos in the outskirts of the city. The Adventurer's Guild had a system in place, quickly dispatching its own Dungeon Runners or those from other guilds that could be nearby.
But, an event like this one, who could even deal with it?
The ground shook, in the middle of the street a man wearing a full-plate golden armor appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He had golden hair and a large two-handed sword almost twice his size.
Midas!
Next to him, appeared someone else, wearing a leather armor with golden outlines through it.
Gilded Order! They've been dispatched?
One by one, they appeared in the middle of the street.
On his right slowly walked in members of the Sleeping Giants guild, who sat in the steps as they gazed into the clouds.
More guilds appeared left and right, the eye in the sky still locked-in on them.
He could overhear the Sleeping Giants talking nearby.
"Did they really need everyone here? Is this truly a S-rank threat?"
"I'm not even sure we stand a chance, have you seen how big that eye is?"
"Our luck ran out…"
Alexander took a closer look, most of the Sleeping Giants weren't even wearing armor, some of them lying on the ground with their eyes closed.
No wonder they're cursed to remain the second best guild…
The chatter coming from the smaller guilds, however, was much more pessimistic.
The eye moved, all of Gilded Order flinching at the tiniest of movement, tightening their grips on their weapons as they assumed a fighting stance.
To everyone's surprise, it was getting narrower. The eye was closing, the iris looked at them until the very end as it disappeared back into a sea of gray clouds.
Alexander flinched, as he felt an electric current going through his whole body all the way to the tip of his fingers.
He blinked a few times, in disbelief.
[ Archetype: Specialist ]