“I accept Time absolutely.

It Alone is without Flaw,

It alone rounds and completes all,

That mystic baffling wonder”

Walt Whitman from Leave of Grass

The outburst from the man was not such an uncommon reaction to those in the room. As for the room that the man found himself in, it appeared to be a much larger version of a building that all people from the US knew and loathed with the passion of a thousand burning suns. The Department of Motor Vehicles, colloquially known as the DMV.

I knew it! I’ve died and have gone to hell. That last world must have been purgatory and not some gods damn tutorial world like that crazy girl said.

He quickly reached up to pull the ticket that had been placed into his mouth and looked at the number in a quick desperate move.

I swear to any god that is listening, please oh please let me be near the front of this line.

While there wasn’t any actual line, the seating area that had been designated for those prospective heroes that had come to the Junction sat as a grand auditorium, rows and rows of seats flowing upwards towards the ceiling that had to have been at least a hundred meters high.

In the minute or so that the man stood looking around, not once had the number above the counter changed. Having said his plea deal… errr… prayer, he looked down at his ticket.

65432358522221b

Shock gripped him as he quickly looked up to the number that floated above the counter. Sure enough, it was indeed his number that the counter was looking for. Just as he shook himself to start moving towards the counter, a garbled gravelly voice shrieked in with a large background of static.

” Last call for 65432358522221b. Proceed to the check in counter immediately.”

The man could barely make out the voice but having spent his own fair share of time in the DMV, in a long past previous life, he knew better than to delay any more. With sure strides he made his way to the counter in the distance, within moments.

“I believe that you are looking for me,” he stated.

The individual, for he could not determine if the individual behind the counter was male or female, did not so much as look up at him.

“Name?” the same gravel filled voice that had been over the loudspeaker a moment ago croaked.

“Greyson Einar” He responded quickly, knowing that any deviation from convention would only lead towards him being asked to return to the end of the line. A fate known to all DMV patrons as the worst experience that one could have. Loud clicking noises could be heard from the individual, mostly hidden behind what looked to be an early cathode ray tube, CRT, monitor.

“Records show that you were summoned by the goddess Judith to stop a demon horde on the planet Daolin….” The individual trailed off for a moment while further reviewing the information at their terminal.

“Oh…. Due to the Goddess descending to the planet, a massive overload of the ley lines triggered a cataclysmic event that broke the planet into bite sized pieces. At this point in time, the Multiversal Department of Summoning Affairs would like to expend its condolences on the demise of your original summoning world. We have reviewed your statistics and will endeavor to find a suitable world for you to be summoned to. Please take a complementary informational packet about the other services that the MDSA provides. You will be summoned upon the selection of an appropriate world requesting assistance. Have a seat in our waiting area until such time as you are summoned.”

As Greyson listened to the speech, he immediately zeroed in on one of the pieces of information that he had heard.

“Wait, you mean to tell me that I have to just wait here? How long is this supposed to take?” While not necessarily whiney or inconsiderate, there was a direct note of desperate concern in his voice.

“Sir, please have a seat in the waiting area. You will be called as soon as a suitable world has been found.” The bored tone was rapidly shifting towards annoyed. This was almost worse than anything else the person could have said to Greyson. It is a well-known fact, if you piss off the DMV or in the case the MDSA, they would “accidentally” misplace or lose paperwork, making whatever you were trying to do take ages. Seeing as how he didn’t even have home or place to go to outside of this waiting area, he in no way wanted to have to sit here for the time that he had been stranded previously.

With a resigned sigh, Greyson’s head dropped as he slowly shuffled his feet towards the cavernous waiting area. Before he made it more than a few feet, a voice like rocks tumbling in a dryer (1) fell in a single word. “Wait.”

Greyson snapped his head around quick enough that a slight pop of displaced air echoed about the area. With eyes that seemed to mist up and a look of gleeful anticipation he stared at this new god/goddess of the information realm.

“You forgot your complimentary information packet. Please take it with you to your seat in the waiting area.” A thick blue folder was shoved under his nose that he took with a very, very, very, very slow deliberate motion. If one could have, they’d have heard the sound of a heart breaking.

Greyson trudged over to the waiting area without dawdling too much more. Upon reaching the change of the flooring, he began to scan the seating area. There were people littered all over the place. Most were sitting off to themselves or in groups of two or three. Occasionally, a much larger group was together. These were mostly what appeared to be full classes of younger kids, probably around middle school or early high school age, with a single female teacher attempting to keep them all together. Deciding immediately that he wasn’t going to be getting near any of these large groups, he looked for an area where he could collect his thoughts before figuring out exactly what he was going to do in his current position.

After looking around the area, he found a spot that had only a few loners sitting in it and made his way over. Making sure that he didn’t have anyone sitting directly next to him, he decided to look over the informational packet that was given to him. After only the first page, he realized that being sober for this was not a good idea. Quickly scanning the waiting area, he found that one of the loners on the other side of the room had what appeared to be a wineskin of some sort. In a blur of motion, the papers in front of him hovered in the air before starting to slowly descend to the vacated seat. After the papers had floated down no more than an inch, Greyson was back in his seat holding onto them once again.

He gently brought up the wineskin to his lips, taking a swallow that must have drained half of the skin. With a smack of the lips and a quick shake of the head, he let out a breadth tinged with the telltale hints of wine. With another smack of the lips, he looked back down at the wineskin, it must have been something like a Spanish Rioja and definitely a bit too strong for him to chug.

The papers really had no information that he cared about. Summoning blah blah, arranged blah, saving planets throughout the multiverse blah. It wasn’t as though he didn’t care about helping or saving people anymore, just that having spent a countless amount of time on the tutorial world, using it as a justification for doing something seemed a bit weak now. He sighed, tossed the packet of papers on the ground in front of him and started to drink the wine again, enjoying the taste as well as the slight burn as it passed down his throat. It really had been too long since he had been able to have a decent drink. Greyson closed his eyes letting his head fall back in his seat and decided that he was just going to let come what may and relax for the first time in years.

Of course, it was at that point that he heard the sniffles and attempted quiet crying. While in many situations he would have just ignored this and let whoever it was continue on without acknowledgement, there was something that caught his attention immediately with this person.

The crying was coming from a very young child…