Fate, the destiny of all things determined before they are born into the world. Did this force truly exist, or was it merely something an oft confused humanity liked to blame when a series of coincidences converged at a single point to create something spectacular?

The mysterious force known as fate could be quite fickle. One man grows to be a king. Another young man grows to become a meth-addled street walker selling his body for one more chance to feel right.

One young big-headed little boy was chosen to receive a peculiar fate in deed. In the space of a scant few days, Scott grew from a simple youth with simple youthful dreams, to a dedicated child intent upon making that dream into a reality. From the moment he returned home, or rather he was dragged home by his fearful mother, he became dedicated to discovering everything that he could about the real heroes that existed in the world.

His mother had helped the cause during his initial training. She forbade him to go anywhere for the next few months save for school. He was also no longer allowed to walk there alone. The safe little world that they lived in since the day he was born was proven to be a flawed utopia. There were worse things than local bullies to deal with now that a dungeon arose near town.

In time the tiny hero discovered the truth about the world, a truth hidden by his parents and his lack of desire to watch news broadcasts. There was a way for anyone who wanted to become a hero to do so. All they needed to do was train. Sadly, his childish detective work led him to discover that little boys were not able to develop their heroic powers as quickly as little girls. However, a combination of personal research and a constant nagging of his parents convinced them to help him locate someone to help him train.

From that moment on he trained with a master trainer once per week, and spent the rest of his free time practicing the lessons that he was granted. He developed his mind and focused on creating perfect images of common objects. He meditated, and did his best to develop the force known as resonance. Cultivating resonance was vital if he wished to become a hero. The environment inside of a dungeon would cause him to sicken and possibly die if his resonance was not high enough to withstand it.

The years passed as the big-headed boy child trained in preparation for his true calling. He developed his mind and spirit while maintaining his body with decent amounts of exercise. Scott played with his friends, but over time he slowly drew away from the common social scene. He had seen first-hand what happened when a dungeon appeared. He had to be ready! Even if it meant distancing himself from others for a time, he would never again allow himself to helplessly watch innocent people die like that while he did nothing.

As though a god had snapped his fingers and bid that time run faster, twelve years passed. The big-headed boy child grew into a teenager with a head proportional to his body. It was now time to undergo the trial that would determine the fate of a hero. And so, his true story begins...

Chapter 2: The Day of Trial

"Damn. This is taking for-ever," said a teenage girl with long blond hair. She was three people ahead of Scott in line and seemed to be bored out of her mind. It was a common affliction for those who waited in places that they did not wish to be, and in this event many agree with her sentiment. Most of those included in the line did not wish to be there.

"Yeah, I know. Why are there so many boys here anyway?" asked another girl, one of the blond girl's friends.

The blond snorted. "Who knows? It's not like they have much resonance."

Scott tried not to let her words bother him. It was true. At his age, few boys had enough resonance to use a full-immersion ID-Drive. Girls on the other hand usually scored at least twice as high as the boys would. For him to make the cut, he would have to show resonance more than twice what a normal eighteen year old male showed.

It was a quirk of the technology, and a betrayal of basic biology. No one, not even the designers, knew exactly how it worked. At least they did not know such things completely.

A working theory, considered a bullshit theory by most to be honest, was based on how humanity had evolved. The male members of humanity acquired a slight boost to developing strength and quick bursts of stamina during the slow climb up the evolutionary ladder. The female of the species developed talents more devoted to multi-tasking and spiritual pursuits. The theory was basically a sexist way of saying women had developed more emotional capacity than men and the tiara device that was the basis for all ID-Drives simply worked better with women.

In the modern age, it was the female of the species who held the ability to rapidly ascend to superhuman power. Boys were forced to play catch-up and most did not manage to achieve proper resonance levels until they were in their late twenties, if they ever did. The older someone grew, the harder it was to develop resonance. There were only so many ID-Drives to go around. The boys usually lost out on the experience until they were older, providing they had the dedication to develop the capacity to even use one.

Time passed and the line shortened. Scott used that time to go over his mental exercises. Ever since he was a small child he dreamed of becoming a dungeon explorer, a modern day hero, and obtaining fantastic powers. He spent several hours per day for over a decade honing his ability to focus his mind on multiple concepts at once. The ability to multi-task was the most important aspect of resonance, or so the experts claimed. It showed an agile and adaptable mind.

He glanced at a small group leaving the testing area and noticed that out of the dozen wash-outs ten of them were boys. Not every girl made the cut either. Though, most who did not make it did not want to do so. Despite what many might think, few people were truly willing to put their life on the line to gain power when they could just live normally and enjoy the fruits of another's labor in the dungeon.

As Scott entered the actual testing building he saw dozens of young people lying on floor mats. Technicians used resonance testers, a small coin-shaped device, to scan the brainwaves of those would-be dungeoneers.

The girls in front of him were led to their testing areas and he soon arrived at the desk. The lady taking names had been amiable and chatty with the girls. When she saw Scott she merely handed him the testing sheet and told him to fill it out. What was the point in chatting with someone who would be sent down wash-out lane in a few minutes?

"Alright, testing area three, row C," said the woman. Scott took his paperwork and left. As he walked away he heard the desk clerk strike up a friendly conversation with the next girl in line. He tried not to let it bother him, but it did. He had known that his goals would require an uphill battle, but people did not need to be jerks about it.

As he walked to his testing area he tried to calm his nerves. Years of training, late night meditation, and dreams had led him to this point. Had he wasted all of that time, essentially ignored what most people considered important parts of childhood, or would it pay off? It was time to find out.

"Not bad. You scored two hundred twelve. You'll need to go to a training camp if you want to get it to two forty," said one of the testers. Scott walked past the girl who had been told that she had scored too low to get sent to a special school and soon found his tester.

His tester turned out to be a fellow blue haired male. The man offered Scott a pleasant smile, the first he had seen directed toward him since he arrived for testing day, and nodded his head. "So, who do we have here?"

Scott handed him his paperwork and the man checked through it. After a moment he looked back up to Scott then smiled once again, this time it was a wider and warmer smile that before. "You've been training? Good. Let's see if you managed to make any progress."

At the man's direction Scott took off his shoes, loosened his clothes, and then stretched out on the mat. The tester ran through a few items of interest with him then placed the resonance tester on his forehead. "You'll feel a hot buzzing sensation in your head for a moment. Afterward, we'll see your general pattern test."

Scott tried to avoid the frown that threatened to rise up. A pattern test was just a formality for a girl. Even if she tested poorly they would still continue testing for an actual resonance number. It was different for guys. A low pattern test percentage was used as an excuse to send them home early.

A burning sensation flared between his eyes for a brief moment and then his entire skull began to buzz. Soon, his body vibrated as well. The test continued for several minutes, but the vibrations never stopped."

The tester released a slow whistle then nodded. "Not bad at all, forty-six percent."

Scott winced. Forty-six percent was exceptional for an eighteen year old male, but less than what even an average high school girl might have. He started to get up since that should mean the end of his dream for that year, but the tester made a few adjustments on his laptop and gestured at him to stay down.

"Am I done.... or?" asked Scott curiously.

"Ah, normally yes," said the technician, before he made another adjustment. "We haven't had a qualified male entrant so far this quarter, so the testing bureau lowered the pattern test percentage to thirty-five last week."

Suddenly, hope sprang anew! The pattern-test was not particularly accurate. It only registered the general resonance pattern that someone possessed. Typically, for someone to be considered worthy of training at one of the regional schools the entrant had to have a resonance pattern of at least sixty-percent. The average untrained girl had a resonance pattern of fifty-percent. The average boy had a pattern of resonance that registered closer to fifteen.

"Alright, you'll need to follow my directions to the letter to make sure we test properly," said the tester.

"Sure thing," said Scott. He tried to remain calm, but he was becoming excited. This was his chance!

A sense of pressure began to build between Scott's eyebrows. The blue hired man glanced down at the equally blue-haired youth, and then back to his laptop. He quirked an eyebrow then tilted his head to the side. Slowly, his eyes widened to almost comical proportions, and then he said, "Maybe not. One moment."

"Huh?" asked Scott.

The tester pulled out his cell phone and sent a text. A brief moment later a woman with hot pink hair appeared on the scene. She wore a lab coat that was left open in the front, a white button-up shirt with one too many buttons left unbuttoned, and a black skirt that was far too tight and short to be considered professional attire. She glanced down at the laptop. Her eyes widened slightly then she asked. "You administered this test with standard protocols?"

"Yes ma'am. I have not even had the chance to start the multi-task scenarios," replied the tester.

The pink haired woman glanced down at Scott then back at the laptop. "I'll take over here. Please assist."

"Of course!" said the tester, obvious excitement in his voice. He brought up the first protocol immediately.

The pink haired woman spoke aloud. "Scott, I want you to think of a simple object. It can be any simple item you like. Make it as detailed in your mind as you can."

"OK," said Scott before he took a breath and started the real test. He was confident in his ability to perform such a simple task. It was a cornerstone of his training, after all. He chose an apple as his item of focus. In his mind's eye the apple appeared in an empty void of absolute darkness. Despite the lack of light the apple was in complete focus.

He gave the bright red apple a proper array of details. He granted it the scent, texture, and the visual depth one might expect from an apple. He then focused on developing little specialty marks such as spots and an intricately detailed stem.

"Good. Now make two of the same item," said the pink haired woman.

Scott could easily comply. He made two of the apples and made certain that they were identical in every way. He even allowed the scent of apple to increase in his mind so that it would be as though two real apples were next to each other.

The unprofessionally attired test mistress smiled at the result then flashed a grin. "Not bad. Now make as many identical apples as possible."

He complied readily. The number of apples that he could create and hold in his mind numbered eighty-four. He had to drop the number to twenty-two to maintain perfect clarity and an identical image for each apple, however.

"Good," she said, a slight purr in her voice. "Now clear you mind as best you can. In a moment you will begin to see images. Tell me what they are."

Scott did as he was instructed. Soon images came to mind that he did not create on his own. "I see a blue fish, three green cubes, and a purple triangle."

Adjustments were made. "How about now?" she asked him.

"A stick man is fighting a bunch of circles. Sort of looks like a man fighting a bear," he said.

"And now?" she asked.

Scott blinked. The image that unfolded before his mind was an image of a beautiful lake. Fish leapt up from the crystalline water. There was a brilliant rainbow in the background, and a magnificently shining water fall. On the edge of the lake he could see several brightly colored rocks and a fresh water crab scuttling around. He told the testers each thing that he saw. As he mentioned certain items, he was directed to interact with them.

After a while the woman smiled warmly then slapped the other tester on the shoulder. "We got a good one!"

"Yeah we did! Can't believe his score is already higher than mine," he said with a laugh.

She laughed with the man for a moment then turned back to Scott. "For the record, you scored three hundred thirty-six."

Scott bolted upright. "Holy shit!" He had hoped to score at least two hundred so that he would get into a training camp, but over three hundred at his age meant something entirely different. It meant something that he had not even allowed himself to dream about.

"Yep. Lie down again so we can run your status. Have you made preparations to leave home?" asked the pink haired woman.

"Well, yeah. We're all supposed to, though I'll have to go pick my stuff up at the motel and let my parents know," he admitted.

"Oh, it's fine. We would have gladly waited for you even if you had made no preparations at all. Give us the name of the hotel and the room number. We'll send for them. There is a lot of paperwork to fill out and you need to undergo more testing," she said excitedly.

He shared the relevant information with them then stretched out once more so that they could run a few more tests. The most important one for an acceptable applicant was his status test.

"Alright, tell us what you see now," said the pink haired woman.

Within his mind there appeared a series of words and numbers. They were jumbled together for a moment but they slowly moved into a better placement and became more coherent.

[Scott Hennessy]

Age: 18

Development Points: 0

--

Resilience: 81

Vitality: 96

Dexterity: 93

Physical Prowess: 114

Mental Acuity: 139

[--]

He informed them of what he saw and the pink haired woman nodded. "You'll have to go to remedial training classes with the other entrants before transferring to your new school, but it should not take more than a few weeks."

Scott's head began to swim as the pink haired woman continued to talk. So much was happening, and far faster than he realized that it would. He had not dared to dream that his resonance would score over three hundred points. It was low in the grand scheme of things, but high enough for elite training at the academy. He could hardly believe that he would transfer to the International Dungeon Exploration Academy, IDEA.

They spoke for a while, and then he was ushered off to an office to wait for his parents. The testing center needed their mat back for the next test taker.

In the pink haired woman's office Scott learned that her name was Alice. He also learned something else that was quite surprising. "You're going to be my trainer?"

She nodded her head then leaned forward. Her elbows were pressed down against her desk and she used her hands to prop up her chin. "Yes. It is rare to find a qualified applicant, even more so when the applicant is male."

Scott took that to heart. He had studied the numbers a bit before coming out for the monthly test cycle. "What kind of training will it be?"

"Dungeon exploration using the ID, of course." She flashed him a warm smile. "Don't worry, we won't train you on anything rated higher than Class F, Level One."

A feeling of relief washed over him. He wanted to explore dungeons and develop awesome skills. It would bring him one step closer to the fulfillment of his dreams, and if nothing else girls liked a guy with awesome skills. The danger was real, though. Wounds taken in the virtual training dungeons transferred to the real world. The same creative force that allowed for physical advancement and item withdrawal to take place, also came at the cost of possible death and dismemberment.

Alice glanced down at her laptop then her eyes widened. Scott asked her what happened and she looked up at him. "Come see."

She turned up the volume while Scott walked over. On the screen there was a news report. The National Guard had been called out to a location five miles outside of Bakersfield California.

"It's like a war zone out here Diane!" shouted the man on the screen. In the background six small tornadoes moved randomly about the area. Two of them had captured military vehicles, and dozens of helpless people were seen hurtling through the air.

"As you can see, the dungeon that appeared an hour ago is a Class C," said the reporter. He placed his hand tight atop his head to keep his hat from flying away. The roaring winds howled even louder in the background forcing the man to speak louder, "For the people at home who are unfamiliar with the categories that means it is an elemental dungeon, in this case an Air Dungeon. The qualified helicopter pilots can't get close enough to enter due to the wind elementals that are raging outside the entrance."

Alice bit the tip of her finger a little then sighed. "Damn. Air dungeons are bad news if we don't have anyone in the area who can fly."

She glanced down at a little scrolling ticker that flashed onscreen. "It's level four? Seriously?"

Scott glanced at her then back to the screen. A Class C dungeon was something that normal people could not even enter. The same resonance score used for testing purposes also determined whether someone could penetrate the dungeon barrier.

Qualified helicopter pilots would need to have a resonance score of at least six-hundred fifty, possibly as high as twelve hundred, in order to enter without dying of illness. The fact that it was level four meant that someone would need a score of four hundred just to walk inside due to the energy barrier that all dungeons had as part of their nature.

The man on screen stopped moving for a moment then placed his hand to a device attached to his ear. He then looked back up to the camera. "An update is coming in now! Team Silky Falcon has arrived on scene!"

The camera panned over to a helicopter that was landing in nearby. Six colorfully clad women hopped out of the side of the transport then the apparent leader moved to discuss the situation with the commander of the guard unit.

Scott's eyes lit up as he saw the girls turn and race off toward the howling madness that awaited. The camera zoomed-in on the chance that they could capture more of the coming battle. A little of the fight with the first tornado could be seen.

One woman flew up toward the elemental and then began to fly rapidly around the tornado in a direction opposite of its spin-motion. She moved so quickly that she took on the appearance of a speeding comet as she whipped around her target at extreme velocity.

The wind elemental soon began to fluctuate. The whirling cone of wind became less coherent and began to expand. It was not long before a nigh-translucent form appeared in the center of the howling vortex of air. Various attacks lanced out from the women on the ground and the tornado quieted down. Due to their experience and team work, the wind elemental was destroyed quite easily.

"Team Silky Falcon, huh?" asked Alice.

"You've heard of them?" asked Scott.

Alice nodded. "Air dungeon specialists set up in California. Their leader attended the Academy. Pretty solid team."

On the screen, Scott saw his future. He envisioned a life spent becoming strong enough to fight against anything that rose up from the depths of the deepest dungeons. He could protect the world from monsters that no modern army could face. What good was a tank or a rocket against a tornado? A simple class E dungeon could spawn monsters that were each strong enough to face an entire traditional marine platoon. The Class C dungeon that appeared outside of Bakersfield could spawn monsters that were capable of leveling entire cities with ease. Those tornadoes were not for show.

The pink haired trainer glanced over at Scott. She noticed how ardently he studied the images on the screen. "Say, what drove you so hard that you trained every day for this?"

Scott closed his eyes then shook his head. "No special reason. A dungeon did not kill any of my friends or family, if that's what you want to know."

He looked to Alice then said. "When I was a little kid, I loved comic books and video games. I used to go to the park and pretend to be a superhero."

The blue-haired teen laughed briefly then shook his head at his youthful days. "Until I saw a woman fighting a real-life monster with her bare hands, I had not realized that it was possible to live in a world like that."

Alice nodded. "I see. So, your reason for training all this time was for the sake of a dream?"

"Yeah. I want to be a dungeon explorer. When I found out that most men wouldn't have enough resonance to enter any but the weakest dungeons till they were in their late twenties, I nearly gave up."

"What changed your mind?" she asked.

Scott shrugged. "I was still really young. I learned that there were training exercises that might help someone if they hadn't hit puberty yet. So, I did them."

He looked at her carefully. "Other kids went out to play all the time. I spent most of my free time meditating, working on logic puzzles, and trying to hold several different mathematical equations in my head at once."

"When did you start your training?" she asked curiously

Scott smiled. "Well, I called myself training at around six years old. But even with a weekly trainer, I didn't really know what I was doing till I was almost ten."

"That's when you became serious?" she asked in an amused tone of voice.

The smile faded a little and Scott closed his eyes. "Yeah, I was finally old enough to realize that if I wanted to be able to do the things that I dreamed about then I would have to focus more on training. Doubled my training time after that."

"You should know..." She brought something up on her screen and Scott leaned forward to read it. "It takes a bare minimum of ten thousand hours of training for a young boy to develop the sort of resonance that you have developed. It's probably closer to twelve thousand. Most of the time even that is not enough."

Scott nodded to her. "Sounds about right. I kept a log of how much training time I did each week. Never thought to total it all up."

"How much training did you actually do?" She was slightly impressed that a child had gone this far on his own.

"About twenty to thirty hours a week. When I got older, I used to joke with my mom that sitting on my butt and thinking really hard was my part-time job," he said with a laugh. Alice shared a chuckle with him at that as well.

Silence reigned for a moment, but eventually Scott asked a question that had plagued his mind for the last few minutes. "I know I scored high enough to attend the academy, but I thought that there was a waiting list?"

Alice nodded to him. "A lengthy one at that. You can thank political correctness and the old boys club."

Scott thought about that briefly then snorted. "So, since I'm a guy I get to skip the waiting list?"

"Yes, it isn't that hard for a female with potential to develop their resonance to three hundred. They could do it in a year or two of dedicated training even without an ID-Drive. If anything, the minimum is three hundred because the governments want to at least try to get a few men to graduate from the academy," said Alice.

"Well, I won't complain about it," said Scott with a laugh. If he could use the male half of the government's fear of having women rule the world to advance his goals, he would do so gladly. Affirmative action was awesome.