Chapter Text
The garrulous professor lulled you in and out of a light slumber, your vision blurring before refocusing as you struggled to keep your attention on the slideshow in front of you. The textbook you had no intention of reading sit idly against the seminar table, your fingers tracing circles atop the brown, torn pages. The title, Metaphysics of Time and Space, held no significance to you, who chose this class as a free elective for the completion of your degree.
The lecture wasn't necessarily boring; the topic itself rather intrigued you, who often spent your days daydreaming about far away universes and explorations.
Two main theories would be covered: The Many Worlds Interpretation by Hugh Everett and the String Theory Landscape by Leonard Susskind. Susskind's theory was the personal favorite of yours, particularly due to the theory's idea that each possible universe has different laws of physics. Therefore, theoretically (and naively), you could be a superhero in some far off world, assuming the laws of physics allow for it.
That was the reason you decided to choose the Philosophy of Quantum Mechanics course. Many nights before this, after the lengthy hours of your Dungeons and Dragons sessions, you and your friends would find yourselves in a number of debates. The discussion often pertaining to your ideal fantasy world. What race would you be? Your prowesses? Would you be a bard, barbarian, mage? So many possibilities that you were hoping to nerd out over in this class, if only hardly.
Unfortunately, despite the class's philosophical title, it was significantly more science based - meaning your professor held a much stronger affinity towards Everett's Many Worlds Interpretation.
The professor stood in front of the few eighty or so students all scattered around the room, a hand pointing at a long line of text projected against the white board. "Einstein would have likely preferred Hugh Everett's theory. He was a man of simplicity, after all."
You laughed, almost inaudibly, though your professor was quick to turn his attention towards you. "What was that, miss?" He was a refined man, sophisticated in his manner of speech despite always calling students out of their names.
You were often one of those students.
You straightened your back within your seat. "I don't... I don't think Einstein would've liked it." Your response was soft, unsure. "Everett's theory, I mean. It's not a simple one."
"And Susskind's is?" He chuckled out, back leaning against his desk and hands clasped together. You could tell he was excited to debate you, he often very visibly reveled in it.
"No. He'd probably hate both theories," you explained.
The professor knew of your preference towards the String Theory Landscape. He often joked about your little fantasy world wish, though only lightly, as though he were a playful grandfather teasing his grandchild. You never minded either, the debates and teasing jokes the only things capable of curing the class-induced boredom.
"You taught us that Einstein believed in Determinism," you finished.
The professor nodded along, pacing before speaking once again. "What is determinism?" A few students raised their hands, though he quickly shut them down. "I want to hear her definition."
"Uh well..." You contemplated a proper response. "Our reality is fixed. Everything is predetermined. Einstein thought that only science could confirm different realities."
"So, science doesn't confirm Everett's theory?" The professor questioned.
You snorted, "Of course not. It's a theory just like Susskind's. And they're too messy for Einstein's liking." You said the last part sarcastically, rolling your eyes with a grin on your face.
Some laughs sounded from your classmates, signaling the end of your small debate, much to your professor's satisfaction. He turned towards the projector and continued the lesson as he had been doing originally, the words slowly drowning out as your eyelids became heavy.
I totally should've taken that mythology class instead, you thought to yourself dryly.
The rest of the lecture lulled you into sleep again, your head sprawled over the opened textbook. It wasn't until a polite call of your name and a hand to your shoulder that you were awoken, startled and causing you to quickly stand out of your seat. The student, a polite girl that often skipped class, chuckled before pointing at the professor, who also held a shit eating grin on his face.
"You know, I could fail you for that." His threat was empty, lighthearted. You and the girl shared a laugh and exchanged goodbyes before you continued packing away your textbook and laptop.
From the corner of your eye, you could see the professor walking up the steps beside the seminar tables to reach you. He held something in his hand, unclear from your peripheral.
"Don't tell me you're actually gonna scold me for sleeping," you muttered, leaning against the chair as you dangled your backpack over your shoulder.
The professor placed a book into your hands, shoving it forward. The tawny cover was ornate, a dark spiraling pattern covering the edges and leading towards the middle where a strange symbol occupied the space. It looked like two large, sharpened teeth pointing upward with the spirals leading from the top of the tusks to the center. "Pretty..." You mumbled as you caressed the designs. "Is this for me?" Your eyes were wide, excited.
You were always a sucker for gifts, regardless of what they were.
Ignoring your question, the professor spoke, "Do you have a job lined up for when you graduate?"
You cocked your head to the side, relatively offended. "Not yet. I haven't found an internship." You shrugged your shoulders, holding the book between your arms tighter.
"There's an opening at a research facility I work for. It's everything you've learned in this class put into practice."
"Wha- You're offering me a job?"
"Well, it's more like an unpaid internship. If you do well, there'll be a permanent position." The professor's voice sounded worried, as if a broke college student hoping to break into the job market wouldn't be pouncing on an opportunity like this; paid or unpaid.
You weighed your options; stay unemployed and make no money or be employed and make no money, but there is now a solid chance of making money later.
"What would I be doing? This class was just a free elective. It's not actually related to my degree," you begrudgingly admitted, the hopefulness that it wouldn't expend your opportunity evident in your voice.
"You'd simply assist the researchers. Most of it is on-the-job training, anyways." The professor veered towards acting nonchalantly about the situation, the older man noticing your nervousness and wanting to ease the tension. "Just think about it, no need for an answer yet."
He placed a hand on the book before just as quickly stepping away from you. "The book's for you. Took it from the lab, with permission." He smiled.
You lifted the cover to align with your face, scrutinizing the front and back before placing it beside yourself again. "What's it about? Is it research?"
"Something like that. Seems to talk about your String Theory Landscape ideas. Leans more towards magic, though, so the lead researcher didn't have any use for it. I thought you'd get a good read out of it."
Your mouth hung agape. "Are you serious? This so cool! And you're sure I can keep it?"
Your love for fantasy and magic was immense. Outside of your usual Dungeons and Dragons sessions, you would often spend your days dressing in medieval fantasy costumes; from a knight to the saved princess to a barbarian half-orc. You were never one to distinctly romanticize the medieval ages. It had its issues - like the lack of women's rights, for one. Perhaps that was why the fantasy and science fiction genres beguiled you. A world where you could enjoy the aesthetics of a time long passed, except this time you could add dragons and mages and you, as a woman, could be the strong knight if you so choose.
"It's all yours. I read a little bit, seems cool. They found a few of these books during an excavation in Austria." The more your professor expanded on the origins, the more worried you became.
"Uh... Shouldn't this be in, like, a museum? Or something?" You let out a nervous laugh, holding the book more delicately.
"Ehhh," the professor shrugged (which did not bring you any relief), "I get special privileges for working at the company for so long." He shifted on his heels, spinning around to walk back down the stairs to the front of the lecture hall. "I have another class coming in soon. Just take the book... And think about that job offer."
The professor waved you off before you could retaliate, a small smile your only response before you finished gathering your things and exiting the building. You had signed up for an hour long study room, your original plan to prepare early for the upcoming finals week. However, when your gaze landed on the book sitting deftly between your arms, you decided to use the room for a less conventional reason.
The walls were a beige color, the wallpaper chipping in some areas to reveal the white underneath. A sofa chair was positioned in the corner, away from the main rounded table and chairs. You wondered where all the money from your tuition goes if not to at least make the buildings more presentable. On the opposite end of the room was a white board with red, blue, and black markers on the floor beneath it. The students from before clearly didn't clean up properly.
Setting your bag on the table, you sauntered towards the sofa and sat down, knees to your chest as you opened the book.
"Oh, what the fuck." You cackled at what you were seeing, the language of the book being in some kind of medieval German. "Professor, you absolutely played me." You finished your laughing fit before reading over the unknown language. Didn't know he could read German, you thought to yourself, But he totally looks like he would. You listlessly turned the pages, scanning the words for anything that may be familiar, which was nothing considering you couldn't read the language.
By the time you made it halfway through the book, thirty minutes had passed, and a notification on your phone reminded you that you only had thirty minutes left to use the room. I should probably study for calc, at least. You turned the page one final time, a movement that was meant to be done in passing as you would close the book altogether. In spite of your original intentions, your gaze settled upon a drawing; the tusks from the cover were, once again, located in the middle, except now there were strange symbols on the outskirts encircling each tusk. The drawing took up two pages, a light blue color glowing incredibly faint . You honestly weren't sure if the glow was even there at all.
Beneath the glowing symbols was a sentence written entirely in German as was the rest of the book. Curiosity got the better of you. Turning your phone on, you downloaded a translator app and took a photo of the page. The system revealed two different notifications.
For the symbols, the text read; Unable to translate. Make sure photo is clear.
For the sentence at the bottom, the text read; Translation (Austro-Bavarian - Germanic): Draw this seal for entrance.
You cocked your head to the side in confusion, shifting your eyes from your phone to the book to the phone again. Shrugging, you stood from your seat and grabbed a marker. "Am I summoning a demon or what," you muttered under your breath, recreating the symbols along with the tusks across the whiteboard- rather poorly you might add.
When you finished, you stood back, admiring your work as you compared it to the drawing in the book. You shifted forward and back on your heels, waiting to see if Satan himself would spring out and take over the universe.
You were never the superstitious sort, so when the black color of the markings began glowing the similar blue from the book, your first thought was that surely, you were going crazy.
"Gotta be lack of sleep," you nodded.
Except you just slept over an hour in your last class.
And you were never one to miss out on a full night's rest.
In a hurried panic, you snatched the eraser from the side of the white board and jutted your hand out, attempting to wipe away the marker.
Instead of that occurring, however, you were instead greeted with the terrifying view of your hand being inside the symbols. From the tips of your fingers to the middle of your forearm, there was nothing but the blue glow against the whiteness of the slate.
You screamed, the blood in your face running cold as your face paled. You struggled to push back, a strange force pulling you further and further into the literal college white board.
Spewing curses, you lifted your leg to push yourself back, your shoe unfortunately slipping against the metal and falling into the slate alongside your arm. You grunted, a mixture of frustration and fear as you turned your head around to grab at something, anything.
You clutched at the chair before it fell over, then at the table, the force of whatever was pulling you dragging it closer to you. Finally, before you could be fully submerged in whatever the fuck that was, you took hold of your backpack, the fabric smacking you in the face before you were consumed entirely by the glowing symbols.
Your vision went black; whether from the bag hitting you or the slate swallowing you whole, you weren't certain. The darkness seemed to lull you into a slumber you were all too familiar with, the feeling of your eyelids shutting making the darkness spin and your mind confused and muddled.
The last thing you heard was the soft tune of a lute, the faintness of the music slowly getting louder and louder before you dozed off completely.