The leader of the most notorious crime syndicate sat in his lavish leather chair, an overhead LED light casting a sinister shadow across the room. Sweat stained his balaclava mask as his mind raced with pure terror. His left foot anxiously tapped, the rhythmic beating similar to a stopwatch running out of time. The man's hands shook as he adjusted his silk tie, his tired eyes dilated in response to the fear and stress. The once vicious and infamous terrorist was now reduced to nothing more than a rat in a trap.

One of his close associates had sold him out, that was what he was sure of. How else could they have found his hideout, five thousand feet underground? The man sighed, an organization built on fear was bound to collapse. The terrorist leader jerked his head in surprise as a booming noise of clattering steel rang out throughout the halls. One of the vault doors had been destroyed. The sound of metal was soon replaced by hushed, professional voices. The government's men had finally arrived.

The man steadied his nerves. Reaching over to the cabinet on his right, he pulled the drawer open. Inside was a shiny, polished revolver. Lifting it up, he pointed the barrel to his temple. It was all over now, no regrets. A coward's death was better than whatever those corrupt officials were going to do to him.

BANG!

The terrorist leader collapsed onto his desk, a small pool of crimson blood quickly growing near his head. His right hand was still clutched around a small pendent hung around his neck. As gravity took its course, the dead man's hand slipped, revealing the picture inside. An old polaroid of his ex-wife, a developer at a game studio with massive funding...

...

"HAPPY!" a screechy voice pierced his ears, "HAPPY SINCLAIR! WAKE UP THIS INSTANT!"

The terrorist lifted his head from the desk and opened his eyes once more. He was in ... a classroom? Rubbing his face to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, he swerved his head to observe his surroundings. Rows of desks lined the room, bored looking students sitting in their seats. Oddly enough, they weren't paying any attention to him at all, even though an old hag was shrieking at him from across the classroom. Looking closely, he noticed something extremely strange. All of them had vacant, emotionless eyes. Something was terribly wrong.

The terrorist, or now Happy Sinclair, took a deep breath and replaced his confused expression with a calm look. The first and most important rule he had learned was to never show fear in front of others, it was a glaring sign of weakness. His teacher at that time had practically beaten it into him.

"DETENTION! NOW!" the elderly lady was almost jumping up and down in frustration. One more push and maybe steam would start to waft out of her ears as well. Happy complied, he silently got up from his seat and walked to the door. Opening it, he made up his mind. His top priority was to find a private area where he could organize his turbulent thoughts. As the door shut behind him, the boy now stood in a long hallway, the dirty floor checkered in a fading red-white pattern. Cheap yellow LED lights flickered overhead as countless students walked aimlessly up and down the halls.

Something is very wrong ... this many kids in the halls when there's supposed to be class...
A small smirk began to form on Happy's lips. He had always loved puzzles since he was a kid. Approaching a random student, he grabbed their shoulder roughly in order to stop them. The boy slowly turned to face Happy with almost robotic smoothness. The kid had a very forgettable face with equally forgettable features. There was one thing that caught his eye however.

There was a faintly glowing, blue sign above the student's head. It read John Smith, which was most probably his name. Happy's right eye twitched at the sight, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Ah... John, do you know where the bathroom is?"

John Smith slowly turned around once more and pointed in the general direction of the restroom. Then, the student carried on with his aimless roaming. Happy lifted his hand and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he watched the back of the quiet boy slowly fade away from existence. What the hell is happening...

The school bell rung a few moments later, the shrill alarm snapping Happy out of his shock. The boy shook his head and followed the direction of where John had pointed. Every second he wasted was a higher chance something could go wrong for him in this unknown environment. Time was of the essence. Slowly walking, Happy followed behind a small group of students who were going in the same direction as him. He straightened his posture and began to swing his arms as he walked, instead of concealing them inside his pockets, all in order to blend in.

Departing from the group when they had reached the end, Happy swerved right and immediately pushed the closest restroom door open. The bathroom was fairly clean, the stalls with toilets were not trashed nor disgusting. However, all the mirrors were cracked, almost as if someone had smashed them with a hammer. Catching his reflection in the corner of his eye, he noticed something was off. Slowly walking, Happy stared at himself through the cracked glass, a wave of horror washing over him as he realized something very important.

This was not his real body. The body he was currently in had long, blonde hair, which contrasted greatly to the buzz cut he had in his past life, and matching kind, golden eyes that looked as if they had never gone through a hardship, ever. His past eyes were thin and sharp, with huge eyebags from countless sleepless nights due to paranoia. Looking down, Happy noticed his hands had not a single sign of calluses. Moving the now unfamiliar hand, he turned the sink on and splashed cold water onto his face.

What the hell... how did I not notice until now. It's almost as if ... this whole thing... its a game?

Right as Happy reached his epiphany, a giant transparent screen filled his vision.

[WELCOME TO HEROES ONLINE!]

The sound of trumpets and fanfare followed, and a new screen popped up.

NAME: Happy Sinclair
AGE: 17
RACE: Human (NPC)

ABILITY: ???
SKILLS: NONE
TRAITS: Traitor, Silver Tongue

STATS:
STRENGTH: F
AGILITY: E
VITALITY: E
PERCEPTION: D
INTELLIGENCE: A
WILLPOWER: C

Happy frantically waved his hand, the screen fading away shortly after. Clutching his chest, the boy stumbled, almost falling over. His breaths became frantic and his eyes began to shake.

Heroes... Heroes Online? Isn't that... isn't that the game she made... how does this make any sense?

Happy clawed at his head, his brain felt like it was going to explode. Just being reminded of that women felt like being stabbed a hundred times.

Suddenly, the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor echoed from one of the closed stalls, snapping him out of his memories. As he frantically searched for any urinals, his blood ran cold. He was in the wrong bathroom. His mind raced with the possible excuses he could utilize, but it was too late.

click

The stall opened and a small girl stumbled and tripped at the sight of a Happy. The lunch she had been carrying flew everywhere, most of it covering her. The girl's face turned a deathly white as she opened her mouth...

Ah. She's going to scream.

"Wait, wait ... to tell you the truth I-" before he finished his sentence, he re-examined the small girl as an idea uncovered itself inside his head. The girl was bruised, badly. Her arms and legs were covered in a sea of ugly purple and oranges. It was a familiar sight, when he was child he carried those marks as well. Her school uniform was also ripped up, and the fact that she had been eating lunch in the bathroom all pointed to one fact.

The girl was bullied. Happy could use this. Since this was a game, what he was about to do would probably be a lot easier too. The system did say he had a silver tongue after all. He slowly walked over and lent a hand to the fallen girl, flashing a brilliant smile.

"Are you okay?"

[POTENTIAL ABILITY UNLOCKED]