[ WP ] A modern teenager is transported into a fantasy world , where they are forced into a quest with young witches and wizards their age . Fortunately , they 've got a backpack full of high-tech gizmos to help them along .

I opened my eyes and looked up into the forest canopy above me. I fallen through some kind of hole and landed here. `` The Chosen One has appeared!'' shouted a voice behind me. *Oh, * I thought, *this again. * 
 
 My name is Aaron Denning, and I am apparently the multiverse's equivalent to a Swiss Army Knife. The first time I saved a magical world/kingdom/dimension from destruction/being conquered/a tyrannical overlord was when I was ten. I was so fucking stupid, I nearly got killed a dozen times. A year later I walked into a little bookstore that I had never seen before, and got sucked into a book. Some real *Never-Ending Story* shit that was. 
 
 I'm 18 now, and I have saved 6 Kingdoms, 12 worlds, and 3 *dimensions* from some kind of awfulness. I have killed Gods, Demi-Gods, Would-be-Gods, Necromancers, a few warlords, and several dragons. 
 
 When I was twelve ( after my 4th `` adventure'' ) I started putting together my `` Chosen One Survival Kit''. At first it was simple; food, a blanket, a kitchen knife I stole from my parents, matches. After every trip I added something to it. Now I have rope, two weeks worth of MREs, a hunting knife, Holy Water in a quirt gun ( works *great* on necromancers ), one of those foil emergency blankets, a Zippo ( always keep it fueled ), and my iPad. I keep it in a backpack and take it everywhere with me. I smiled, becuase today I turned 18 and added my latest acquisition: a.45 caliber Colt revolver, with 500 rounds of +P ammunition. 
 
 I leaped to my feet and turned around to face the person who spoke. A small, wizened old man, of course, holding a staff taller than he was, of course, with a what looked like a small village's -worth of people behind him. I grinned manically, `` Okay then, who needs killing?'' This is gon na be *fun*.
