First and foremost, I would like to mention that this story will contain characters that aren't mine, or ever will be. The characters are there for the story, but the original creators of them are the owners. I intend for this story to be a chain of stories, eventually a multi-verse crossover piece of fiction. I gladly accept criticism with open arms.

Part One

Scott hates walking. Running, jogging or driving, he loves, but walking he completely despises. He found it to be too slow, never one for taking in the scenery but rather appreciating it at a fast paced blur. Often, Scott preferred getting to his specific destinations at a speedier pace. A to B. C to D. Life, as cliché as is sounds, is much too short to walk slow or stroll casually to ogle at the trees or sky. The environment would stay the same whether he awed at it or not. The only placed that Scott truly appreciates is his Grandparents house, which is a lovely little semi-detached house on the very corner of a small close, in the beautifully picturesque outer suburbs of Liverpool, United Kingdom. The close rests upon a hill that overlooks the city, the skyline outlining the beauty of the River Mersey behind it. Scott's Grandparents home may not be the roomiest of households, but it was home. You would think that a house run by pensioners may be decorated in a slightly more 'old-fashioned' look, but you would be wrong in the case of Scott's Grandparents, who thought it to be their personal goal to make their small house as modern-looking as possible. The floors are lain with laminated mahogany wood, and the walls and ceiling are decorated in blending colours of creamy whites and greys. However, as with most pensioner houses, technology is a little more devoid than that of younger abodes, the fifty-inch television being the only mark of the 21st Century being present. Apparently, Scott's Nana finds 'buttons and swiping screens confusing'. The house hosts a meagre three bedrooms and a quaint bathroom that accompanies a walk-in shower, next to which sits a floor -to-ceiling mirror.

It is in this mirror that Scott Hunter is narcissistically examining himself, checking depressingly for thinning hair. Scott stares intently in the mirror at his mousy blonde hair, which is short and swept slightly to the right, as if he actually bothered to use a comb but gave up half way through. Snarling at himself in frustration, Scott gives himself a once-over to check that he is fit to venture into the wilderness of the outside world. Scott is small for a lad of his age, sporting only five foot five inches' worth of height. However, as he always said to himself 'Big things in small packages'. If not for his near-handsome features, Scott may have developed a small confidence problem regarding his height, having come to accept the fact that he was never going to grow any taller, irrefutable of the reassurances his Nana liked to make that he was going to 'shoot up one day'. Scott has blue eyes, which change to green depending on the light he is in. His face also sports a very defined jawline, upon which rests a scruffy dusting of brown-blonde stubble. His face is relatively clear, with only a few freckles dotted around from previous stubbornness to wear any sun protection cream. Other than that, his pale white face does not sport any blemishes. "Scott! You best ad' get down here soon lad, you'll end up late for work!" the voice of his Pops rang through the house like a grandfather clock. "All right, old man, keep your hair on! Scott shouted back "…or what's left of it anyway" "What was that?" "Nothing" Scott said quickly. He gave himself another check over, nodded, and left the bathroom and went cascading down the stairs to where his Grandad, Pops, was waiting for him. Pop's never said a word and just grunted, one stubby finger pointing out the door towards his car. Scott smirked and patted his father figure on the shoulder lightly, and opened the door to get ready for a long day at work.

Working as a Chef isn't as exciting as many people seem to think it is. Sure, Gordon Ramsay makes it look good by shouting and swearing at everyone, stressing the team out but somehow managing to make 500 vol-au-vents in no time at all. Of course, in the real world, there is still as much swearing as Chef Ramsay makes there out to be, perhaps even more so. However, not nearly as much production or finesse as you come to expect from professional caterers. Anyway, working in a kitchen is good for character building, and there's nothing like a hard day's work in one to make you exhausted to the point of collapse. Scott's colleagues say that they always dream of work, and due to spending so much time in work, it feels like they never leave. This is where Scott finds a major difference between himself and his work friends.

Lately, he's been feeling like the main character in a young adult work of fiction, dreaming the same dream over and over again. However, unlike a main character, these particular nightly escapades tend to lack any adventure following them, or make any sense at all for that matter. As it always is after a 14-hour shift, Scott arrives back at his Grandparents home feeling like yet another day has flown by, his life speeding ahead of him at supersonic speeds. He would describe his days at work, but that would only succeed in boring the absolute life out of you. Instead, as soon as Scott returns home in what feels like no time at all, he drifts off once he has removed all olive oil drenched clothing and his head hits his relatively soft pillows.

Scott stands on a platform made of pure white, brilliant stone. It is difficult to describe exactly what type of stone it is, only that it is blinding to look at for much too long. Almost like staring at the sun for lengthy periods of time, it leaves him partially blind and his eyesight spotty. Scott raises his hand to cover his face, squinting at the object before him. He never looks around himself to see what he is surrounded by, because the foreign object in front of him is much too interesting. He can never truly make out what it is, only it's shape. It seems to be a small pillar, and resting on top of it, a brilliant gem that glows even brighter than its home. Scott tentatively takes a few steps forward, like a small deer learning to walk for the first time. His knees wobble and his lower lip quivers in a mixture of fear and curiosity. Scott raises his left hand, his right still slightly shielding his face from the sheer brilliance of the light emanating from the gem and the stone platform he believes he is stood on. His left arm, only a few inches away from the stone, trembles in anticipation. It takes everything Scott has to keep himself upright, a feeling of strange nausea hitting his stomach suddenly. The gem seems to glow ever brighter, and a humming sound resonates in Scott's ears, a ringing like the aftershock of a flashbang grenade battering his sensitive eardrums. He is just about to touch the gem and-

Scott absolutely fucking hates waking up like that. Every night the dream is the same. Every night he gets close to the gem. Every night he nearly touches it, only to wake up with his right arm over his face like he is still trying to shield himself from the light. Putting his arm down by his side, Scott heaves a massive sigh, groans and slightly turning over onto his side, he grabs his mobile phone from the desk next to his bed. Unsurprisingly, there are no new notifications, not even an invitation from one of his family to play Candy Crush Saga on Facebook. Groaning again, Scott puts down his phone and rolls back to stare at the ceiling. Surrounding Scott are dozens of books, some open, some closed, some torn and some moulded with years of abuse from coffee stains. Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix lies open closest to him, the book devoid of any cover, torn at the edges. Scott had always been a major book worm. Well, he'd always been King of Procrastination if anything. Films, Books, Manga, Anime, Theatre-Scott had always made it his personal mission to watch or read as much as possible. Of course, this meant that he became a full-time couch potato, so he also included a bit of gym time into his busy entertainment schedule, so as not to look like he lived the lifestyle of laziness.

Scott closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to come again, it's a day off after all…it's a day off! Scott sat up straight in bed. He dived out, running downstairs rapidly. Pacing straight into the kitchen, Scott poured water into the kettle and waited for it to boil as he made himself a morning pick-me-up. Scott, leaning against the kitchen countertop, strummed his fingers against counter and clicked his tongue impatiently, the excitement of the day ahead refusing to leave him.

Scott looked out of his kitchen window. It was a lovely summers day, the rays of sunshine beating down at the small patch of grass in his backyard. The garden was decorated in a modern style like the rest of the house, with wooden decking separating the grass from the house and a mixture of potted plants and miniature trees dotted around the space. However, today, it wasn't the garden or the brilliance of the summer sun that caught his eye, but a slight shimmering towards the very back of the yard. It may have just been a trick of the sun, distorting his vision slightly, but he was positive that he saw the shimmering at the back of the garden moving. Only slightly, but it was definitely moving. Pouring himself a coffee, he added milk and sugar (last, because only a heathen adds it first) and walked outside the back door towards, what he thought, was probably a hallucination "You need to stop smoking so much Scotty…" mumbling to himself, Scott reached inside his pyjama bottoms and took out a cigarette and a lighter with his free hand. He lit up with the same hand and walked slowly towards the shimmering at the back of the garden.

He inhaled smoke, exhaled, trying to figure out if he was still dreaming or not. The shimmering was a disturbance, definitely not a mirage created by the heated sun rays. He took a sip of his coffee and debated moving closer. It could be anything. A gas leak? Scott was unsure of what to do next. In one of his books, the main character would jump straight through and start an adventure of a lifetime. Scott wasn't sure he was the adventuring type. Also, Scott was well aware that reality was greatly exaggerated in his books and films that he watched, as he knew that life was never as fair or lucky as the main characters in his books seemed to find it. There might not be a happy ending. All of these thoughts rushed through Scott's head in a matter of seconds. The smoke he exhaled rose in circular patters above his head, caught the slight wind and disappearing. Scott regarded the shimmering light trick a little more, trying to decipher just what it exactly was. It reminded him of a fogged up mirror in a bathroom, after you've taken a shower and you can't see your own reflection properly. He could only just make out the rest of the wooden panelling behind the shimmering. Instantly, he thought of his Nana and Pop's. Weren't they home? He hadn't seen or heard them when he had come cascading down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Pops! Nana! You home?" Scott turned away from the shimmering mist and shouted this into the distance, hoping and waiting for a reply that he knew probably wouldn't come. His Grandparent's often spent days away from the house, spending their retirement quite happily exploring parts of the UK, eating afternoon teas and drinking in quaint little pubs.

He thought of his phone, and that he should take a picture of the shimmering for evidence so he could show it someone later. However, a strange feeling in his stomach told him that if he did that, it might not be there when he returned back downstairs to take the picture. Something inside him, something adventurous and stupid, something ridiculous and just downright childish and adolescent said to him, It's now or never. Scott debated about it for a second. He was stood in a pair of tartan pyjamas. He also sported a nice Iron Maiden t-shirt and an oversized hoodie that came to his knees. Basically, whatever happened now, he'd look ridiculous whatever the outcome. Whether the shimmering was just a trick of the eye or not, he was about to find out exactly what it was. A window to another world? Probably not. Probably something else, something a trick of the sun created or just a massive coincidence. Scott never knew, but he felt that if he never found out now, he probably never would. It was indeed, now or never. Flicking ash from his half smoked cigarette, Scott placed his coffee on the floor by him, and reached out towards the shimmering mass. His hand, he thought, must have been touching it, but he felt nothing. Scott thought that something should have happened, so he thrust more of his arm towards it and into it, more of the same happening. Nothing. Scott was disappointed. He thought that he was about to become a superhero or something. Isn't this how superhero stories begin? With a strange, natural phenomenon appearing to break up life's monotony. If this was how it really happened, it was a great disappointment to say the least.

That's when something actually happened. No, not to the shimmering. That was still there, unchanged. However, there was no wooden decking behind it anymore. Also, the heat and shining of the midday summer sun no longer beat down on Scott's back. No, the light had changed completely, as if someone had put the sun on a dimmer switch. Scott drew his hand back tentatively and looked around. He wasn't in his Grandparents backyard anymore, that was a definite. He actually wasn't sure where he was. A dimly lit room, he thought, to start off with. The smoke from his still-lit cigarette swirled around him, causing his eyes to water and his nose to wrinkle. He sniffed. Surrounding him was what looked like a large, shady auditorium. Kind of like a lecture theatre, but a lot larger. Scott was stood, he thought, in the middle of the front. Behind him sat a few hundred seats, situated in a circular pattern all around the auditorium, but he couldn't quite make them out in the poor light. He squinted, in the distance he could just a small glimmer, what he thought must be the exit. Squinting in the distance then caught his eye of something else. He followed upwards to see more seats. The auditorium must be multi-level. It reminded him slightly of the Empire Theatre back home, but it was so dark that he couldn't exactly tell how many levels there were. However, he was sure that there the room was a lot larger than he originally anticipated.

Scott was surprised at himself. He thought he would have panicked or began to hyperventilate, the prospect of suddenly being transported to a strange location might have made him panic, just a little bit. However, the whole time he had remained calm and unmoving. He had forgotten about his cigarette however, which had burnt out in between his fingers. He dropped it on the floor, as he continued to awe at the surroundings he had suddenly found himself in. The floor felt like marble to his bare feet. It was cool and sent a chill running through his body. There were no recognizable objects for Scott to identify with. No smartboard, whiteboard or chalkboard to mark that this actually was a place of learning. Scott stared back at the shimmering and tried to figure it out. Surely it was some form of mist and he was in a hallucinogenic state, foaming at the mouth back on his Grandparents decking. However, the shimmering remained there, a figure of his imagination brought alive. If this was a dream, it was a fucking good one to say the least. Everything felt so real. Scott grinned from ear to ear. He might not be the adventurous type, but he somehow still felt a slight feeling of exhilaration. He hadn't even had breakfast yet.

He turned around and took one small, tentative step in the direction of the glimmering light in the distance, maybe to find out where he had appeared. It was crazy to think that only minutes ago he was pouring hot water into his mug to have a coffee. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. Was this what it actually felt like to start an adventure? He didn't think so. He hadn't pictured himself stood in tartan pyjamas to start with. He smiled to himself once more. Maybe the slow monotony of his life may become suddenly exciting. Finally, maybe his laborious existence had started at a jogging pace instead of just strolling through the paces of paying bills and going to and from work.

However, just as Scott was about to take another step into adventure, a loud, piercing alarming sound rang through the 'auditorium' (let's just call it that for the time being) and threatened to burst his eardrums. The alarm sounded like one long wolf howl, only louder and uglier, as if the wolf was dying and howling its lungs raw at the same time. Scott panicked, turned towards the shimmering that had seemingly brought him here and gasped when it was no longer there. Well, shit.

Scott could hear voices, shouting off in the distance, from around where the glimmering light he had seen earlier. The alarm had not stopped, his ears ringing, he felt like he could feel blood trickling down his neck from shattered eardrums. It became difficult to think, panic rising in him like bile. The voices, shouting and inaudible barking noises, became more profound over the alarm. He could make out individual voices getting closer. Perhaps they were in the auditorium? He never wanted to stay around in his tartan pyjamas to find out. So, taking a page out of one of his main character's novels, he did what they all seem to do quite well. Scott ran. Scott ran quite fast.

The alarm was still shrieking in his ears, a headache now forcing itself to the foremost of his thoughts. He couldn't think, he couldn't escape the pain and he was pretty positive that soon, he wouldn't be able to escape his pursuers. Scott ran, step by step, up the marble (he thinks) stairs, his smoker's lungs giving him away almost instantaneously. He looked behind him and saw that his pursuers, who he couldn't quite make out in the lack of light, were at the spot where he had arrived. He had somehow managed to flank them and escape to the exit where they must have come through. As he approached it, he saw that the blue light was a sign above a glass door. He couldn't make out the language that rested on it, but the blue light emanating from it was blinding. Another thing that added to his ever increasing headache. Scott panted and ran through the glass door into an even darker room. Around him looked to be a console, with various buttons showing blue lights on them also. He quickly spun around in a spot, his thoughts running away from him. He was fairly certain soon he was either going to wake up, get caught or get killed. He had not planned for his adventure to turn out quite in this fashion. He pictured more swords and dragons originally, not alarms and blinding lights.

Scott fumbled around in the dark for anything that felt like a door, running his hands along the wall, whilst his other hand had automatically raised to hold his head, which threated to fall to the floor ahead of him, causing him to collapse before he could achieve escape, or anything for that matter. He was beginning to panic even more, Scott's Adam's apple rising in his throat, drying it out. He gulped a raspy bubble of rusty air and continued to frantically search for a door, the hyperventilating now coming in droves. Surprisingly, he could hear his own blood strumming through his ears, the sound of his heartbeat somehow louder than that of the ringing. How was that possible? He put it down to trauma and stress and carried on, with shaking hands, searching for his escape route. He turned his head around to look for his pursuers, but was unable to see anyone or hear their barking noises anymore. Just as he was about to give up, his hand fell on what felt like a handle, or what he thought must be one at the very least. Scott almost yelled in exhilaration. His momentary panic forgotten, he put all of his remaining energy into pushing open the newfound door. The door pushed open slowly, daylight seemingly pouring in through the door.

What Scott opened the door to made his jaw drop. Like, literally drop like something out of a Looney Toons episode. He couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. Before him stood the largest corridor he ever saw. It seemed to be made of all black marble, like the floor of the auditorium. The corridor could have fitted a small skyscraper; he could only just make out the ceiling. It all seemed to be made of that marble, but in certain places it blended into different shades of the grey, making it seem like an optical illusion. To accompany the corridor was equally humungous windows, in which a brilliant white light shone through, a light akin to sunlight but somehow seeming brighter. He looked to his left and seen what he thought could only be doors, made of glass but varying size. Some doors where the same height (he presumed) as the ceiling, whereas others varied in sizes from regular size to about fifteen foot. To add even more to the oddity of the situation of the location he had stumbled into, the corridors where not empty. Creatures, for that was all he could describe them as, of all shapes and sizes quickly traversed the corridor, as the ringing had followed him into this strange place as well. Somewhere too tall to comprehend, whereas others where around his size. He saw that some had more than four limbs, sporting a dozen or more, some had more than one head and some had no limbs at all, choosing to travel in what looked like oversized hovering wheelchairs. Some had humanoid figures such as himself, but different variations of skin colouring, hair colours and clothing attire.

Scott took all this information in over a space of what must have been a few seconds, his jaw hanging open waiting for flies to go in the entire time. He hadn't heard the approaching steps behind him and the barking sounds of jubilation at the prospect of finding the intruder ringing in their voices. Scott didn't even take another second to turn around to look at his followers. He assumed that he would only find more weirdness that would send him over the edge. At any rate, at this point in time, Scott wasn't sure he was quite ready to see any of these strange creatures from a sci-fi story up close. He wasn't entirely sure that his brain would be able to process the information, what with the alarm still ringing and the headache returning. So Scott returned to the only thing that he thought he could do at this time.

"It's now or never kid, let's just think about all this shit later" Scott mumbled to himself, reassurance perhaps the only thing that was keeping him sane, and on his two feet. Scott ran as fast he could, his hoodie trailing behind him like an oversized cape. Adrenaline pumped through him as he ran. Scott ran to the left, towards the glass doors and ran straight past them. He was sure that he didn't want to get lost or trapped at this particular point in time. That would only spell even more weird or bad situations that may even just send his brain into complete overload. He moved quickly to dodge people (if that's what he could call them at this point, not meaning to be racist or whatever) and ignored the further barks and shouts that flew towards his general direction. What felt like a burst of hot wind flew past his right shoulder, and he followed the feeling and direction of it to see a white light hit the marble wall in front of him, a plasma like substance splattering itself over the blackness as a paint can would if thrown at it. His breath caught in his throat, as he peered behind his shoulder in curiosity at the sender of the white light. Behind him, Scott finally got his first look at his pursuers. Following him at a high speed were around six pursuers that he could make out.

Two of them longer and more feminine features, but he couldn't tell for sure. The other four were rather large and cloaked in black and red hooded garments, so it was difficult to make out specific features. One particular pursuer was hovering slightly above the ground in a kind of Iron Man fashion, using his/her hands for stabilisation. One of the larger pursuers, around 8ft tall held a large stick? Maybe a staff? He wasn't sure, but what he was quite sure that it was this that fired the white light that nearly hit him before. It looked to be aiming at him again.

Scott's feet were moving as fast as he could make them, and he approached a corner with more of the white plasma lights following him and missing him by sheer complete luck. When he rounded the corner, he noticed the corridor was empty, but also declined into a more normal looking one. On each side of the corridor were large black pillars, something akin to the Ancient Greek pillars you seen in museums and such. Vines spread across the marble walls and onto the floor, making this particular corridor look a lot more interesting yet older and worn down, ancient even. Scott never paused to ogle at his surroundings, preferring to run and think about what he saw later. This is one messed up dream.

Scott continued running, the voices of his pursuers getting closer, but unable to make out any individual sound over the shriek of the ever ringing alarm. He risked a further look back to see that his chasers were only a few steps behind him. He was going to get captured. As Scott turned back around to look for further escape routes, panic now rising in him even further, threatening to reach a boiling point and implode, he squinted on a small figure ahead. The figure was stood by one of those glass doors that he had spotted earlier, the door looking similar to the ones that he was used to. However, he could make out strange marking around the door, all of them unreadable but glowing that same blue that he had seen before in the auditorium. Running faster, his lungs feeling like they were going to stop at any moment, Scott's heart stopped. In front of him, stood a figure on four legs, a figure that he had only seen before a few times that he believed to be a work of fiction. He couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing, and deduced that he must have gone completely insane, or took a really bad trip to a drug he must have been slipped. It was impossible, absolutely unbelievable, unfathomable. In front of him stood a purple dragon, with yellow horns and a particularly recognizable face. He was a little larger than he imagined, but it was for definite whom he was looking at. In front of him stood Spyro the Dragon.

It was then that everything went black.