‘It was meant to be just another average day.’ Joe thought to himself as he stared down the barrel of a gun. He had planned to enjoy a night of watching reruns of his favorite show after finishing up work. However, the moment the store entrance bell rang, a man wearing a gray top-down hoody stained with week-old mustard stains walked in. Joe knew his night had just taken a turn for the worst.

It took only a moment for the man to walk up to the counter, swiveling his head left to right on the lookout for any signs of security. When he reached the counter, the thief took out an old worn-out Glock 17 pistol and pointed it directly at Joe's head. The thing looked worn. Numerous scratches and spots of rust marred the weapon. It had clearly seen better days. However, the sound of the chamber cocking confirmed it was still more than operational.

"Give me the cash!" the man demanded with crazed induced eyes. A gray top-down hoody hid the thief’s face and features, but Joe could see the man’s eyes meant business. 

"You've got 30 seconds, otherwise.." he said with a nervous twitch. A telltale sign he was either a junky or a new age hipster. 

"Okay, okay, I don’t want any problems. I'm just a gas station clerk." Joe squeaked with a voice full of trepidation. He held up his hands and slowly shuffled over to the cash register. Joe began to fumble open the cash register. His palms sweated and shook profusely, making him mess up the process twice. 

It was one of those fully electronic cash registers, fancy to look at but hard to operate. Luckily this wasn't his first rodeo. How many times had he been robbed at gunpoint since starting this job? Definitely two or three times. The good news was that he had finally obtained mastery over his bowels compared to his first experience. Without a doubt, the first times for everything are always the worst! 

After finally managing to press the right keys, the cash register swung open, showing off a profound bounty of $210 and 29 cents. 

The thief stared at Joe incredulously, unbelieving that a gas station could be so poor. "What the hell is this? Where's the rest?" 

Joe quickly raised his hands. He knew if he didn't play his cards right, he might end up on the evening news, another unfortunate victim of a crime gone wrong. 

"I promise this is everything. The gas station doesn't keep much cash in-store. Most payments are electronic these days."

Honestly, Joe knew this particular gas station, located in a rough area of town, liked to keep cash on hand at low levels, not that he would tell the guy with a gun.

"You lying to me?" The thief moved closer and lifted the gun with both hands so that the barrel was barely a foot away from Joe's head. Without a doubt, a shot from here would be an instant kill. 

Joe took a deep breath, giving off his most vulnerable facial expression. He contemplated fighting back but quickly squashed such thoughts. He had watched several self-defense courses, but this wasn't some online tutorial, nor was he some secret martial artist able to dodge bullets. One false move would be his last. "I promise, no joke, this is everything, take it." He said, pulling out the cash and handing it over.

Joe was unsure how he kept ending up in these situations? He was only 23 years old, having just graduated college two years ago with a decent college degree. It was meant to have led to a stable career with a Fortune 500 company, followed by a car, a pension, an apartment, and maybe even a girlfriend. Instead, he found himself working part-time at the local gas station, making a few dollars above minimum wage, a veritable fortune compared to some other low-level jobs around here. Yet. It was nothing like the fancy college promotion packs had promised. Each pamphlet was filled with happy-go-lucky adults talking about making high figure sums in their chosen profession and how it was all thanks to that particular college. 

Unfortunately, life never works the way one hopes. Even with a degree in business and a decent-looking resume, he could barely get accepted for a few phone interviews. Most ended in the same formatted response of "we'll contact you soon" or "we're looking for someone with more experience." Surprisingly those were the same responses even when the positions were entry-level. Not sure how that one works. Of course, with student loan payments building up, time waits for no man. Settling for the next available job he could find was a way to get on the job market and start paying some off the interest. Who would've known finding a job could be so difficult, especially when all the news channels kept droning on about the supposed "labor shortage." 

The man stared at Joe for what felt like an eternity, likely calculating the cost of any profit he might make with the need to replace a spent bullet. Finally, he relented and tossed a bag which Joe carefully caught. "Fill the bag with cash and cigarettes. Now!". 

Joe moved promptly without a need for another warning lest it be his last. He filled the bag with cash and dumped in as many packs of cigarettes as the bag could carry before quickly handing it back over. Having gotten his loot, the thief gave one last look at Joe before quickly turning around and running out of the store, smashing over a couple of shelves in the process, a final act of spite, before finally sprinting out into a getaway car. The vehicle's wheels screeched as it sped out of the lot onto the road and eventually disappeared into the distance.

Crisis averted, Joe slumped onto the ground. His knees gave out as the adrenaline began dissipating from his system. Looking around the store, all he could do was think about the scolding he was about to receive from his boss, Steve. The man wasn't all bad. After all, he was the one who hired Joe, giving him a job when no one else would. He even helped to teach him the ropes when he first started. Yet, that kindness quickly disappeared, replaced with unrelenting expectations and verbal abuse. Making minimum wage meant he no longer deserved to be treated like a human.

Gathering himself up, Joe pulled out his phone. He found Steve's number under contacts and pressed the dreaded call button. "Well, better get it over and done with." 

Several hours and a beer later, Joe arrived back home. The verbal abuse from his boss and the discussions with Police had gone as expected. As always, the Police insisted there was nothing they could do even with the CCTV footage. A cynical person would find that hard to believe when the evidence was right there in front of them but who truly knew. Joe opened the door of his 2003 silver Honda Accord, the same car he had driven since he was 18, and looked up at his parents' home. 

The house was your typical 4-bedroom suburban home with a white picket fence, front lawn, and driveway with a garage big enough to fit a small apartment. Some may look down upon living with your parents at 23 years of age, but he was grateful for the cheap rent. Options were, after all, limited with his meager wage. He shook his head and then opened the door. A quick search showed the house was empty. 'Hmm, they must still be out,' he muttered quietly. He lived at home with his mom, dad, and younger brother. It was your typical two-parent, two kid family set-up that was quintessential across almost every state. Though, one difference was that his parents were still married and living together. A miracle considering how many of his friends' parents were divorced.

His mom worked for the local hospital. She was a critical care nurse, and evenings were always prime time for the ICU, which meant she wouldn't be back for another few hours. Joe hadn't seen much of her growing up due to her work schedule, but he enjoyed listening to her work stories. She would always tell him about the weird things patients got admitted for. Dinners were never boring in the Heraldson household growing up.

His dad worked as an administrator for a local manufacturing business, nothing fancy, but the job was stable and paid pretty well. Friday nights were always bowling nights with the boys, which meant he wouldn't be back until 2 am. 

According to his parents, they had met at college and got married after graduating—a veritable love story for modern times. 

Having recently turned 18, his brother was likely enjoying his newfound freedom after graduating from high school a few weeks ago. Unlike Joe, he had been the local quarterback for the high school football team. Something his father had been incredibly proud of. While Joe may have inherited the family smarts, his brother had inherited the good looks and talent for sports, gaining a scholarship to a top-tier college. Different talents and interests meant Joe never really connected with his brother. They had started to drift apart after his brother went to middle school and rarely interacted. However, just because his brother was successful didn't mean he was resentful or jealous of his brother. Okay, maybe a little jealous. Who wouldn't want to live a life with a high charisma stat, after all? 

Joe climbed the stairs and walked into his childhood room. The room was small, barely big enough for a queen-sized bed and desk, but it also gave off a feeling of safety and comfort. It contained his prized comic collection, a few self-made artworks, and a top-of-the-line gaming PC he had built and improved upon since high school. It would be fair to call Joe a bit of a nerd, but that didn't mean he was a complete social recluse. 

Joe changed out of his store uniform, which had become stained with sweat from today's event. He inspected himself in the mirror, standing at a decent 6 foot tall, with black wavy hair, blue eyes, and a clean-shaven face. One would almost think he was attractive if it wasn't for his chubby 200-pound frame and nerdy facial features. His round face and lack of distinctive cheekbones and chin gave him more of a geeky look compared to other guys. However, staring at his body reminded Joe of how far he had come. Working part-time had one advantage, which was extra time to work out. A couple of months at the gym had helped him drop the weight, losing 50 pounds in just a few months. Women no longer seemed to recoil in complete disgust if he approached them. 

"Time for a quick shower, then a gaming session… no-no, job applications first" Joe grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom. For the next twenty minutes, Joe stood in the shower, letting the hot water reinvigorate life into his weary mind. The stress of being robbed at gunpoint slowly washed away. 

"You know what… things could have been worse." He muttered to himself. 

Taking one last moment to enjoy the soothing heat, Joe turned off the tap and grabbed his towel. He placed one foot on the mat when suddenly, the entire bathroom was surrounded by a tapestry of light. Bright sigils made of pure light appeared on the ground and walls around him, encasing the room in an ethereal glow. The beautiful signs hung for only a second before reshifting to form a gorgeous multi-layered array. The experience would have been mesmerizing had it not been that he had suddenly become frozen in place, unable to move a single muscle. ‘What the heck is going on?’ Joe screamed with panic-stricken eyes.

Before Joe had time even to process what was going on, the whole array finished its activation. A brilliant burst of light erupted around him, immediately encompassing the entire room. The light was so bright that Joe was forced to close his eyes to keep from going blind. As soon as the light touched him, Joe let out a visceral scream, and his body began convulsing with an intense pain that seemed to pierce his very soul. Joe thought he was being burnt alive, yet the whole thing ended as soon as it began. Joe took deep breaths, attempting to recover from what had been the worst pain he had ever experienced. 

Suddenly, an ethereal voice that seemed to come from the heavens themselves began to chime around him. 

[Planet G-20749 selected for Heavenly Conscription]... 

[Connection successful]... 

[Randomized selection of inhabitants underway]... 

[Rejoice! You have been selected for conscription on behalf of the Pantheon of the Gods]... 

[Transfer to Empyrean Tower in 10 seconds…9…8]

Joe watched in a stupor as a transparent screen that had materialized from nowhere began to tick down. The screen looked like one of those futuristic versions of AR that tech companies promised were just around the corner but never delivered. He had no idea how such a thing could be possible. Yet, here it was directly in front of him right now. "Wait, a timer?...what the hell is going on! Who's there?". He shouted while looking around to find the source of the voice. "Is this some sort of practical joke? You got me okay, please stop!"

[7…6…5…]

Panic started to set in as Joe tried to break free of the invisible shackles holding him in place. Could this be a dream? Or maybe he was already dead, shot in the head by the gunman earlier today? What the heck did the voice mean by Heavenly Conscription, Pantheon of Gods, or Empyrean Tower anyway? Not that he wanted to find out. Yet, for everything Joe tried, the voice unflinchingly continued its countdown, unmoved or uncaring of Joe's opinion.

[4…3…2]

With the timer now near zero, Joe closed his eyes, unwilling to accept such a cruel fate but powerless to do anything about it. His mind raced to all the things he had left undone. To his parents, who were likely on their way back from work, oblivious to what was going on. To his younger brother, who was about to start college. The fact that he hadn't even had a chance to date yet. His only solace was that he would never again need to send out another job application.

[1…0… Transfer commencing].