Author's Warning:

This story is not intended for readers under sixteen. It contains language, plot elements, and emotional nuances unsuitable for the immature. Consider carefully before reading, and only continue if you are truly comfortable with the content the story carries.

UNIVERSE: CREATION DREAM

SERIES: CHALLENGING THE GODS

SAGA: ELEMENTAL WORLD

SEASON 1: WATER REALM

PART 1: TRANSMIGRATION

CHAPTER 1: THE FIRST CRACK

Somewhere, in a place like an ancient battlefield, lay a scorched land. Corpses were strewn about like rotting moss upon ancient stone. The wind in this place had no direction; light did not come from a sun, but from a gargantuan galaxy adjacent to it. The sky was a thick layer of flowing material, colored as blood-red as the fires of war. No one could live here, and no one was left alive here.

Deep in the center of these divine ruins, two figures were faintly visible, confronting each other. They stood face to face.

One had a towering frame, with shoulders like broken horns and eyes without pupils. He did not walk; rather, he forced the air to retreat just to move forward. His hand gripped a scythe as black as the primordial core of the universe. Every swing he made left fractures on the face of space, like the cracked skin of a flayed monster.

Opposite him was a person, or perhaps not entirely human.

Long hair covered half his face, strands matted with the blood and ash of war. His cloak was tattered, but the veins beneath his skin glowed quietly, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. On that face were two eyes that did not follow the same laws: The right eye: Golden, with a pupil shaped like a circular clock symbol turning backward; each rotation seemed to shave away the lifespan of the world. The left eye: A shimmering rainbow, constantly shifting colors, as if it contained the entire spectrum of every dimension.

The scythe-wielder tightened his grip on the shaft, causing the space around his hand to warp. He hissed through gritted teeth in a lost, forgotten tongue.

"Creator God... do you still dare to manifest in this form?"

That voice shook the empty earth, shattering a range of rocks in the distance.

The other did not answer. He raised his left hand slightly; slender fingertips radiated a silver light. A circle of light appeared—not a halo, but a floating ancient sigil. Within the circle were unreadable characters, each writhing like living worms.

"OGOHS ONIHSOH"

From between those symbols, a sword emerged—slender, silver-gold, its light trembling like a razor against the veins of the world.

The scythe-wielder gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his neck, and roared again.

"You are no longer worthy! A Creator God who trembles when holding a sword?"

The one with the strange eyes tilted his head slightly. Neither angry nor defensive. He said only one sentence, his voice as soft as dust.

"Do not call me by that rotten title. I have only one name..."

When the sentence was uttered, the sound was instantly choked off. It was as if the world refused to pronounce it. The wind stopped. The light shifted out of phase. And from his mouth, only a series of strange, incomprehensible sounds emerged.

"OGOHS."

The other paused for half a beat. Then... he smiled.

"Ha... OGOHS. So you still dare to keep that name. Even if it is but the sound of shattering from the past."

Then, the one with shoulders like broken horns lunged. The first move was silent. There was only a flash of lightning from the scythe, tearing through both space and time, descending like the axe of a god of destruction. But the other had vanished, reappearing behind him in a blink, then swung his sword. The two divine powers clashed violently. The ground of the battlefield—or rather, a planet below, exploded like fireworks on a holiday. Corpses floated up into the air as if sucked into a divine storm, vanishing without leaving a single trace. Rocks, blood, fire, bones—things that hadn't yet dissolved—mixed into a vortex surrounding the two, then vanished along with them.

The second move: the scythe transformed into a blood moon, spinning like a wheel, slicing across the neck of space. But the other merely touched the tip of his sword to the ground. An ancient character appeared, the light quietly expanding into a shield, blocking all force. Then came the counterattack. A slash, not sharp, but every angle it touched distorted a dimension. The shockwave swept horizontally, blowing away a thundercloud cluster miles away. The scythe-wielder retreated, his hand already bleeding purple-black blood.

"Creator God... you are already this weak, yet you still refuse to die!!!"

The other, his gaze unchanged.

"It is OGOSH."

Though the name was unreadable, and it seemed it had been erased long ago, perhaps that was all that remained of him. Both continued to hurl themselves at each other, like the opposition of light and darkness, no longer concerned with right or wrong, no longer with reason. There was only a landscape like a deadly hell witnessing the final remnants of divine artifacts left in the world.

Afterward, the white body of OGOHS, his left hand absorbing the God of Time who was currently clashing with a similar entity nearby. His right hand absorbed the God of Space, who was rescuing other low-level gods. All three, at that very moment, fused into a new entity.

[Divine Consciousness]

And then, the first crack began.

May 12th, 2194 - 6:30 AM.

Tokima did not fly, nor did it hover like in sci-fi stories of the distant future, but everything inside it no longer touched the ground in the old sense. Superconducting magnetic trains glided past rails without making contact. Vehicles no longer rolled; they floated, albeit at a low altitude. Transparent glass walls needed no frames to support them; they were held up by gravitational fields. Even dust was filtered out of the air by nano-scale biological micro-nets.

Tokima was once a city living in horror. Now, it operated with precision, order, and near-silence. No car horns, no street vendors. Communication was minimalist; gazes brushed past one another like rapid data exchanges.

In 2191, the Cherry Blossom Nation lost a challenge that stripped the country of its emotions; since then, there were no more smiles here. People still laughed, but only for a maximum of ten seconds. They still talked, but mostly to machines—things that humanity used to fear in the past. After three national technological reforms, the Cherry Blossom Nation became the high-level AI coordination zone for the Eastern Region. Train lines were operated by third-tier automation. Personal emotional data was stored, monitored, and adjusted with recommended medication. Crime was nearly zero; it was almost unnecessary in the real world.

In Europe, they were testing digital copies of consciousness. The Western Region had practically vanished from the world map; no information had been heard from them for half a year. The Bang Nation had produced someone extremely powerful, but they had been placed under surveillance by that very state. And the Cherry Blossom Nation, once famous for shy smiles and hospitality, now lived by procedure. The city still functioned. Humans still existed. Emotions... were simplified to the maximum. But not everyone agreed with the national surveillance. There were still companies, independent organizations, and small recluse groups living outside the monitoring system. No emotional registration. No neural tags. No virtual assistants. The government did not publicly suppress them—after all, the government didn't need to monitor those seeking their own demise. And they had no names in any citizen files. Sometimes... one of them would vanish mysteriously. No one asked. And amidst that flow, a person stood quietly in the crowd, in the middle of Juppoku Ya Station, holding a paper coffee cup, wearing headphones, but playing no music.

His name was Hoshino Shogo, and he was beginning to crack from within, while this city continued to drift without a ripple.

The sound of the electric train passing through Juppoku Ya Station in the morning added to the busy rhythm of Tokima. Shogo stood silently in the rushing stream of people, holding the paper coffee cup, wearing headphones but not playing music. Sometimes he liked the feeling of being surrounded by noise, so he wouldn't have to listen to himself. Amidst the sea of people at Juppoku Ya Station, a light wind hissed like the sound of metal gliding through the air. The Line 11 express train appeared from afar like a faint silver ray; the train body floated a few dozen centimeters above the rails, moving without clear sound. The superconducting magnet system kept the train in perfect balance, no vibration, no shaking. At a speed of 1000km/h—a number that once only existed in physics theories—it became a gleaming reality slicing through the heart of Tokima. The passengers inside seemed motionless, only the blue-violet lights reflecting off the curved glass, casting a cold and distant look upon their faces. Shogo stepped into car number 8, the high-tech business class. The seats were made of adaptive materials that adjusted posture automatically. On the ceiling, advertising screens emitted sound that was almost silent, transmitted directly into the ears of those wearing headphones. No one spoke, and no one looked at each other. He sat down, eyes fixed on the window. The scenery outside blurred like a stretched color ribbon; one couldn't distinguish houses from trees, people from vehicles. A high-speed Cherry Blossom Nation, yet colder than ever.

He looked to the side; the electronic board lit up. It was now 6:40 AM - May 12th, 2194. No one spoke. No one laughed. There was only a faint whirring, as if the city were breathing with mechanical lungs. Tokima was once called the city of connections, where one only needed to open a phone to meet the world. But in Shogo’s era, people called it by another name: the silent city. Communication was merely a social reflex. Smiles were pasted on, nods were rhythmic. Emotions were gradually being stripped away, like a luxury option in a new life update.

A controversial report by the Ministry of Internal Affairs once stated: "47% of young people in Tokima feel they do not belong where they live."

Shogo didn't read that report. But he was one of the 47%. On the transparent screen above, an advertisement appeared: "OryzaTech Biological Corporation proudly presents the breakthrough of the century: The Hybrid Gen Project, the first anthropomorphic beast with high-level intelligence." A woman with wolf ears protruding, golden eyes sparkling, wearing a white lab coat, smiled: "We don't just clone... we redefine evolution." The following images flashed by: children with claws, soldiers with fur like black panthers, an academy nestled in an artificial forest. The final text faded: "New race, next-generation humanity. Legalized in 13 special administrative zones, after 40 years of war." Shogo didn't bother to look up.

His eyes remained fixed in the distance. His headphones were on, but there was no music. He didn't want to hear anything, truly. The ad video ended, the ceiling screen dimmed, leaving the glass surface reflecting light as faint blue-violet dew. For a moment, Shogo looked up—and caught sight of a thin, hair-like scratch crossing the edge of the glass. It was so small he thought it was an illusion. But the reflected light made it clearly visible: a crack. It wasn't in the image, nor was it dirt. It was a real fracture. No one around noticed. The person to his left was buried in their phone screen. The person to his right was asleep. Shogo stared. There was a feeling... a tension, as if that crack wasn't just on the glass, but somewhere deeper. An invisible part of the world around him was beginning to fall apart, piece by piece, silently. He blinked. The crack vanished. Or rather, had it ever been there?

Shogo lowered his head, gripping the coffee cup in his hand. He wasn't sure. But inside his heart, something had just moved—very slightly, yet quite clearly. There was only the train, like a silent arrow, piercing through the rhythm of Tokyo Tokima, where no one was truly living. On the train, he often looked out the window, watching the high-rise buildings hurtle backward, sunlight filtering through the gaps between old and new apartment blocks. The person next to him was reading manga, another was playing games, a little girl was sleeping on her mother's shoulder holding a teddy bear. It was all like a slow-motion film that Shogo had watched too many times. His company was in the center of Tokima; he worked on the 17th floor of a dark glass building. Every morning, Shogo stopped by the bakery near the station to buy an egg sandwich and a cup of black coffee. The shop owner knew his face, occasionally giving him a small extra piece of pastry.

"You look tired today."

She said, but he just smiled, nodded, and kept walking.

He walked for a moment and stood in front of the company; he glanced at it briefly then went in. A girl in a business uniform greeted him, but her face had not a hint of emotion. Shogo felt the emptiness radiating from her; he frowned slightly before responding.

"Hello."

Then he walked past his colleague and began to clock in.

The system logged his attendance successfully: "Data update successful:

Clock-in person: Hoshino Shogo.

Time: 7:00 AM - May 12th, 2194.

Position: Senior Scientist."

After clocking in, he stepped into the elevator, his finger pressing the seventeenth floor button. The tech office where he worked was clean, tidy, slightly cold, and too quiet. He sat at his desk by the window—a place that couldn't see outside on clear days. He wrote code, processed bugs, sent emails, had online meetings, then went home. On weekends, if there was no overtime, Shogo often walked to the old bookstore in the Daikanyama area, where there was a small corner specializing in classic comics from the 2030s.

Sometimes he found first editions of books that had been forgotten, then brought them home as small trophies. There was a stray grey cat that often sat on the steps in front of his apartment. Although he didn't officially own it, Shogo often bought dried fish for it. He once named it "Taiyaki" because the first time they met, it was gnawing on a fish cake someone had dropped.

Taiyaki was only obedient when hungry; otherwise, it was as proud as an old man. He still regularly sent messages to his girlfriend, who now lived like a shadow of the past. Even though she couldn't reply, Shogo still told her about daily life, about the cat Taiyaki, about the new book he read, as if she were still there.

The coffee today was a bit more bitter than usual. Shogo stared at the laptop screen. The lines of code ran like every other day. The 17th-floor office remained quiet with the rhythmic sound of keyboards, the air conditioning running smoothly, and the cold white lights. Everything... nothing was wrong. But inside his heart, something was gradually breaking. While he was working, his phone started ringing. It was his close friend—Yakima.

"Hey Shogo, I have some good news to report to you."

Shogo placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow down as if trying to suppress an unnamed discomfort; he answered.

"Go ahead, Yakima."

"At Kahiyo Game Company where I'm currently working, we've successfully created a new game."

"Oh, sounds interesting."

He said it as if he wasn't interested in the matter at all.

"Hey Shogo, don't spoil my mood. The game the company is preparing to release is called 'Challenge to Become a God'."

"Oh, wishing your game success soon."

"Hey wait, Shogo, I want to say this..."

Then he hung up, as if he didn't want to hear any more. Five years at this tech company, Shogo lived a life that everyone thought was stable: good job, high salary, a girlfriend, a bright future. Yet... from a year ago, since that fateful night, nothing was whole anymore.

That girl, who used to bring him laughter every day, before emotions were restricted. She was gone now. One night. A drunk driver, a small alley, a rainy night. An accident no one could foresee. She was alive, but only in his imagination; the light in her eyes had gone out that day. She lived, but like a ghost—empty and distant. They were once two dreamers. She liked to draw, liked wildflowers, once joking that if Shogo wasn't around, she would become a poor artist raising stray cats. He was the opposite: he liked stability, logic, and things that could be controlled. But they complemented each other. She was the color in his grey life. And now? She didn't draw anymore. Didn't like flowers. And didn't look him in the eyes.

He tightened his fist under the table, his knuckles turning white; the pain festered like a razor blade in his mind.

—"If only I had arrived five minutes earlier that day..."

Shogo tilted his head back, closing his eyes. That thought repeated every night. Even though she said "it's okay" many times, he couldn't forgive himself. Last night, he met her. They sat at an old tea shop, where she had first drawn his portrait in black ink. She was still gentle, still listening, but there was no smile. Shogo told her about work, about the stray cat he had just picked up. She just nodded, smiled lightly... like a politeness. The distance between the two had never been so far. A few people nearby, a few passing by, could only see Shogo talking to himself, then shaking their heads.

He lowered his face, looking at the coffee cup, his shoulders trembling slightly, helplessness seeping into every cell.

—"I can't change anything..."

Shogo sighed, taking a sip of the cold coffee.

That night at 8:00 PM, returning to his apartment on the 23rd floor of a building in the Shinkawa area, Shogo didn't turn on the lights immediately. He took off his shoes, turned on the AC, then sat down on the chair like a reflex. On the table was still this morning's newspaper, and half a sandwich left unfinished. He opened the transparent touch screen attached to the table, accessing the Tokima local network using retinal recognition. A series of icons appeared: news, entertainment, open intellectual forums, bizarre livestreams, some videos personalized to his emotional history. Shogo didn't choose anything specific. He just slid his finger, letting the advertising excerpts and articles drift by like a soulless stream of water.

"Barcelyne City begins testing symbiotic intelligence."

"A new species of algae discovered in Tokima Bay, capable of glowing according to human brainwaves."

"13 ways to soothe emotional signals during temporary imbalance."

"Tokima-Hai Thanh flights now take only 14 minutes."

The words danced across the screen. But one headline made his finger stop:

"Administrative data update: Personal identity file #K-48173 has been removed from the public retrieval system."

That code... terrifyingly familiar. He opened the file. The notification line appeared in cold grey:

"Access request for this information is no longer valid. The file has been deleted or moved to a frozen data partition. If you have special access rights, please enter the security partition code."

Shogo sat frozen.

K-48173, was the identification code of the man who had hit his girlfriend, on that fateful rainy night last year. It was he who caused her death. Shogo had researched the information, had saved the file. Even though the system claimed it was just an "accident," deep down he always felt something was wrong. And now, every trace had disappeared. No photos. No history of stay. No medical records, no processing reports, as if he had never existed. Shogo trembled slightly. Not from fear, but because of the helplessness rising to his throat like thick liquid. He tried to search backward using an independent tool, bypassing internal security walls.

"Data has been frozen by the emotional layer management agency. Any access outside the whitelist will be logged."

He turned off the screen. Sat there, amidst the weak yellow light from the dining table. Outside, Tokima city still drifted, without a sound. Inside, something in him had just cracked further.

That night at 8:30 PM, Shogo strolled through a small park near the train station. A place the two of them used to walk. A light spring breeze blew through the early blooming cherry blossoms. The air was gentle, quiet, but his heart was not. The sky... darker than usual. A purple beam flashed in the distance. At first, Shogo thought it was lightning, but there was no thunder. Everyone around seemed not to notice.

He raised his hand to rub his eyes because a sudden dizzy spell hit him; his voice was a murmur in his throat.

—"Am I seeing things?"

He shook his head, kept walking, but then—the earth shook. The ground beneath his feet cracked for a brief moment. A strong wind gusted past as if a gap had just opened in space. Shogo looked up, and right at that moment, a blazing red eye opened in the night sky. No one saw it. Only him. And from that eye, a voice echoed.

"Found you... OGOHS."

His heart seemed to stop. He had never heard this voice, but it terrified him to the point he wanted to vomit. A coldness crept from his spine to his brain. Shogo turned to run, but a strange wind engulfed him. He was lifted into the air, and fell straight into the endless void opening from that red eye. No one saw in time, no one called his name. He only managed to blurt out.

"Wait... I haven't even said goodbye—!"

BOOM!!!

An explosion rang out in the middle of the ocean. Shogo fell into the sea, like a small meteorite dropping into the water. Saltwater splashed on his face, making him dizzy. But there were no city lights, no park. There was only a strange sky, eerie blue, and the endless sea, as if it were embracing him. He tried to surface, coughing violently, feeling the chill from his feet to his neck. There were no boats, no land around. He wanted to scream, but his throat was dry and raspy.

"Where is this?"

In a very far place, a little girl with hair the color of water waves raised her head to look at the sky.

—"Hm?"

"Someone... fell from the sky?"

Her round eyes opened wide, looking toward the bay where the waves had just splashed high.

[System Note, Partition Code JP-TKY-17]

Emergency warning, Personal data out of sync.

Subject: Hoshino Shogo, File Code #027-4C-X17.

Last determined location: Juppoku Ya Station, Cherry Blossom Nation, 20:19 JST.

Neurological status: mild frequency disorder, no abnormalities.

Biometric connection: LOST.

Emotional data: FROZEN.

Brain positioning: INACCESSIBLE.

No response from the neural processing station. No signal from the subcutaneous biochip. No help request.

All personal devices remain in operating state:

Office computer: on, no interaction for 98 minutes.

Mobile phone: hung at the automatic connection station, no roaming.

Environmental sensors: no physical contact recorded after 20:21 JST.

Conclusion: Individual "Hoshino Shogo" is no longer synced with the global system.

Current status: Excluded from the defined reality layer.

[Automatic archive file, transferred to frozen monitoring zone]

A new chapter... has just begun.

Author's Warning:

This story is not intended for readers under sixteen. It contains language, plot elements, and emotional nuances unsuitable for the immature. Consider carefully before reading, and only continue if you are truly comfortable with the content the story carries.

Part 1.1: Elemental World - Water Realm - Discovery.

Chapter 2: Intersection of Strange Waters.

Before light, there was darkness.

Not a terrifying darkness, but a formless void, soft as water. The body was no longer heavy, nor did it have a shape. Consciousness drifted like a small strand of algae swept along by a current, without pain, without haste, without resistance.

In that place, Shogo heard nothing, nor did he feel the sensation of being watched. No more Tokima. No more surveillance systems. No more days passing like lines of buggy code.

There was only a strange sensation, as if he were drifting through the skin of another world.

And then...

The white light slowly dissolved, leaving behind a damp mist and the sound of waves murmuring in the distance.

Shogo opened his eyes.

The ceiling made of dried leaves swayed gently in the sea breeze. The scent of salt, sand, and herbs mingled in the air. Sunlight filtered through the gaps, illuminating his face, which was pale with exhaustion. Before he could gather his thoughts, he heard a slight movement in the corner of the room.

A girl of about ten years old was squatting nearby, her round eyes wide, her gaze a mix of curiosity and worry. She wore simple clothes, her feet covered in sand, her brown hair matted and tangled from the sea wind.

The first sound was unclear. As if echoed through a layer of water.

Shogo could not understand it. It was just soft, strange syllables, unlike the language of the Cherry Blossom Nation, unlike any system voice he had ever heard.

The sound rang out again, closer this time. Something in his head clicked, like a switch being flipped.

The third time, those sounds... began to arrange themselves into words.

Each letter, each pause, as if his ears and brain were relearning how to listen to a language he had never studied.

Then finally, he heard clearly.

"You... are the one who fell from the sky, right?"

The girl asked, her voice as soft as a whisper.

Shogo sat up reflexively, but a wave of dizziness washed over him, causing him to sway. The girl immediately reached out to steady him.

"Calm down. You fainted on the beach. My grandfather and I found you lying next to a strange object."

"The beach?"

Shogo repeated, trying to connect his fragmented memories. The last thing he remembered was a stream of white light, then the void.

"This is Suiha village, on the edge of the Water Realm,"

The girl said, her eyes never leaving him.

"You are wearing strange clothes, and that weird golden thing, too."

She pointed to the corner of the hut.

Lying there, on a piece of cloth, was the office suit Shogo usually wore, now soaked and covered in sand, and beside it was the golden belt.

The belt looked like a piece of futuristic technology, yet it had the shape of an ancient artifact. The center was a black vortex, still and quiet, yet it seemed to swallow the surrounding light. Shogo stared at it, feeling a strange chill spread throughout his body, as if the object were silently calling his name.

"Little girl, what is the date and year right now?" Shogo asked, his speech erratic as he wasn't used to this.

Hearing this, the girl shouted outside.

"Ah, Grandpa, what date is it today?"

"Today is the tenth of February, in the year eight thousand two hundred and twenty-three, that is all I remember, my dear."

The old man replied.

"That's right, mister. This year is the tenth of February, eight thousand two hundred and twenty-three."

"Oh, and mister, my grandpa didn't let me touch it. He said it is some kind of Divine Object, very dangerous, and sacred."

The girl shrank back.

Shogo reached out, intending to touch the belt.

"Don't touch it."

A calm voice rang out from outside the hut.

Both Shogo and the girl turned. From the misty fog by the seashore, a young man approached.

He was about eighteen to twenty years old, with black hair falling down, the tips dyed blue like ocean waves. His eyes were as cold as the ocean, his gaze both perceptive and guarded.

He wore a type of light armor in sea blue with wave patterns, silver wave-like trimmings running down both sides. On his hips hung a pair of curved swords like crescent moons. Each of his steps on the damp ground made a very soft "clinking" sound, as if the seawater itself was cushioning his every move.

"Are you the one who fell from the crack?"

The young man asked, his voice cold but not hostile.

Shogo nodded, retreating instinctively.

"I... I am Shogo. I don't remember clearly what happened..."

"Kaien. Captain of the 8th Water Guard of the Water Realm."

He replied briefly and stepped fully into the hut, his eyes never leaving the belt.

"Is this yours?"

"I'm not sure. She and her grandfather said it fell with me. I've never seen it before."

Kaien narrowed his eyes, dissatisfied with the answer. He walked around Shogo, crouching to observe the belt more closely. His eyes flashed with vigilance.

"This is not a normal belt. It doesn't carry any clear elemental energy... but there is something deeper, darker."

"Could it be..."

Kaien stood up straight, his eyes still fixed on the belt.

"There are things... that should not exist in any realm."

He spoke slowly, his voice sinking into memory.

"They carry no elemental attributes. Cannot be synchronized. But when they appear, they always come with a... crack in the world."

Shogo swallowed hard, sensing that the thing lying beside him was not just a strange weapon.

"Do you mean... there have been objects like it before?"

He asked in a questioning tone.

Kaien nodded slightly.

"This thing has existed for a very long time, but now I don't see them anymore."

"Usually these things have an element, but yours has none."

"If this thing is misused, it has the potential to destroy an entire Nation."

Shogo shivered involuntarily. The last sentence—sounded like a power he could not comprehend.

"And if someone who is not the owner tries to hold it?"

Kaien turned his head, his gaze sharpening.

"How would I know? I've only heard of it."

The air suddenly grew heavier, but before Shogo could ask anything more, the ground shook... A slight tremor spread from the coastline. The waves, which had only lapped gently before, suddenly rose high.

From offshore, a giant shadow rose—a Level 3 Sea Demon. Its massive body was covered in black scales, its head was a series of fins as hard as steel, and its eyes burned red like fire. It let out a long roar that shook the entire village.

A cry went up from afar.

"Sea Demon! A Sea Demon is coming!"

The curved swords glowed at his hip, and water from the air gathered into a pale blue aura surrounding him.

"Stay here. Don't let that thing touch you, understand?"

Saying this, he lunged out of the hut, moving like a rushing torrent, heading towards the Sea Demon's position.

Shogo stood frozen. His heart hammered wildly. His entire body seemed to stiffen.

The sea roared like a beast being awakened. From the surface, a giant creature emerged, its body covered in a layer of black scales like charred steel, its head fins as sharp as spears, its fiery red eyes swirling deep like hell.

"Sea Demon..."

Kaien muttered softly, his feet sinking slightly into the sand, his hands raising to the hilts of his swords.

The Sea Demon's body towered like a living cliff. Every time it moved, the entire sea surface vibrated, creating waves running counter to the wind. On its back, sharp black horns stood upright, glinting with a metallic sheen under the afternoon sun. Under the dry, rough scales, strips of black mucus, shiny as an oil spill, dripped onto the water, where dead fish floated white-bellied.

Its mouth split vertically, stretching across almost its entire head, revealing rows of teeth stacked like saw edges. When it roared, the sound didn't just echo; it vibrated like a sonic breaking frequency, causing the listener's chest to ache.

Kaien hissed through his teeth:

"It's a Tri-Segment Sea Demon... This is bad."

Shogo turned, not yet having asked when from the monster's chest, dark flesh masses suddenly split open.

From there, three large tentacles reached out like steel whips, each nearly ten meters long, surprisingly flexible. The tip of each tentacle divided into three branches, flat like scythe blades, capable of slicing stone like thin paper.

"It doesn't just use brute force."

Kaien said in a low voice.

"This type has the ability to temporarily poison seawater and absorb elemental energy upon physical contact."

The Sea Demon slammed its fins into the water.

From its back, a black-purple streak of light rolled down, then launched a stream of corrosive gas—not the breath of fire, but a form of material decomposition reaction. Wood, stone, metal that came into contact all turned black, smoldering without fire.

Shogo stood still. The veins in his ears pulsed in erratic rhythms. The smell of salt, blood, and sea wind mixed like a fierce nightmare. He couldn't believe his eyes. This wasn't a game, not a movie—this was real.

"This creature... can't be real."

"No, I have a feeling I've seen something even more terrifying."

He stepped back a pace. But he couldn't take his eyes off Kaien, the young man standing in the face of danger without hesitation.

"Stay away from here."

Kaien's voice was low, not loud, but very clear. And then he lunged.

Shogo was stunned. In that moment, the world seemed to slow down a beat.

Kaien didn't run like a person; he moved like water sliding past every obstacle. His entire body merged with the movement, his two swords drawn, a blue light spreading softly, as if the sea were whispering.

BOOM! A tail whip from the Sea Demon made the sea explode. But Kaien was already in the air. He spun, his blade carving a curve like moonlight.

"Scales... the scales were cut?"

Shogo gasped. The giant monster screeched, blue blood spraying out in streams.

Steam rose like mist, but he clearly saw: Kaien stepped across every wave, every wind, as if he had lived here his whole life. Not a wasted movement. Every blow was chillingly beautiful.

"I am witnessing... another world. A person of this world. Unlike anyone in the place I used to live."

Then the Sea Demon sprayed a black gas—poison, perhaps. Shogo was blown backward, even though he was standing far away. But Kaien stabbed his sword into the ground, "Water Shadow Wall!" A wall of water was created as currents gathered and blocked the attack like a natural reflex.

It didn't just block; it countered. The poisonous gas was swept back, forcing the Sea Demon to retreat.

"No armor needed... No giant weapons needed... Just himself."

Shogo swallowed hard. His throat was dry.

Shogo felt his heart beating fast, very fast. But not because of fear. He was startled to realize: he was feeling something. Truly.

Not just "psychological fluctuations" scanned and filtered by the Tokima system. Not fake emotions after being balanced by neuro-stabilizers.

But... fear. Amazement. Admiration. Confusion. And even a spark of grit rising up.

All at once. Strong. Full. Real.

How long had it been, three years since he felt anything that real?

He looked at his hands, still skin and flesh, but something was different. As if his nervous system had just been unmuzzled, and now, every emotional signal surged like a broken levee.

—"In Tokima... this would be considered an emotional imbalance, taken away by a red color chart; if I didn't stabilize in time, I would be..."

But here, he was no longer watched by anything, no longer bound by rules. No longer advised by medical staff to take sedatives because "emotional indicators easily exceed the threshold."

He was feeling. Wholly. Freely.

And because of that, it made him feel... alive.

He saw a light nearby.

The golden belt emitted a faint light. The black vortex began to spin slowly, as if responding to the chaotic heart beating within him.

A voice rang out... as if echoing from the depths of his consciousness.

—"Are you afraid?"

"...No."

Shogo replied silently, his hands trembling.

—"Don't tell me you're just going to stand and watch, like that time?"

"...No."

—"Then... accept this power; you will no longer be someone who stands and watches."

Shogo looked down at his palms. He didn't know what world this was. Didn't know who he was in this giant picture. But for the first time in his life... there was something beyond reason, beyond ordinary logic.

He no longer wanted to just stand on the sidelines, not out of duty, not because someone told him he had to. But because... his heart was saying it for itself.

The wind blew against him, salty and bitter. Sand covered his clothes. But Shogo felt none of it.

He sat amidst the sound of waves, the sound of swords clashing and monsters screaming, yet he felt as if he were in another place, deep within himself.

The light from the golden belt entered his pupils, his heartbeat and breath becoming one. No longer in Tokima. No longer on Earth. No longer the past, the sorrow, or the name that once made him choke up.

There was only one question.

"If this is a chance to live again, not as a shadow."

—"do I dare to step forward?"

Shogo clenched his fist, his hand still trembling. But not because of fear.

He slowly stood up, eyes fixed on Kaien, who stood amidst the waves splashing like fireworks.

—"If I have to choose... then this time, I don't want to be the one standing behind, I don't want to be a failure who only knows how to watch."

On an island on the opposite side, on a moss-covered rocky outcrop high above the opposite shore, a hundred paces from Suiha village, a figure stood quietly watching.

A dark cloak fluttered in the sea breeze. Long hair hung past the shoulders, the figure small and thin but standing as straight as if unaware of the wind. From behind, age and gender were indistinguishable; only a gaze locked onto the bearer of the golden belt below.

A soft laugh rang out, like someone talking to themselves:

"Oh? The vortex has started reacting? After 1000 years, it appears again."

The voice was unclear if it was happy or curious, but contained a secret satisfaction.

"No one touched it, yet... it still fluctuates. He is unlocking it himself, hahaha, the Divine Object has chosen a new owner."

A strong wind rose. The cloak billowed up as if lifted off the ground. The person turned and disappeared behind the cliff, leaving nothing but the sound of the waves.

———

Side Story, optional reading.

SIDE STORY:

YEAR 2191, MINUTES OF THE SECRET MEETING AT THE CHERRY BLOSSOM NATION

Underground Meeting Room 7-Delta lay deep beneath the capital city of Tokima, white light shining down on faces so calm they no longer resembled humans. No one blinked faster than the regulation, heart rates were kept between 45–55, expressions were as emotionless as wax statues.

Because—

If emotions exceeded 50 points, they would die immediately.

That was the new punishment imposed on the entire Cherry Blossom Nation a few days ago.

Sitting at the head of the table was Prime Minister Kishimoto Reiji, his frame thin, his back straight as if fixed by a steel frame.

To his right were:

Hisatomi Kenichi, Minister of Defense.

Shiramine Aoi, Director of Internal Affairs.

Yasuhara Takumi, Director of Technology.

And in the position of special guest, wearing a long dark blue cloak, was the man from the Dragon Nation:

Zhao Min Kai, the soon-to-be manager of the emotional system for the entire Cherry Blossom Nation, and also the diplomatic bridge between the two superpowers.

His face was calm, his black eyes deep like an ancient well. He also had to keep his emotions below 50 because he was stepping onto territory subject to the penalty.

A beep sounded, the screen in the middle of the meeting table lit up, displaying cold information that had been recorded:

Announcement from the Rule System: Instance: "God-Demon Great War"

Status: Challenge failed.

Player: Hoshino Shogo.

National Penalty: Emotional threshold limited to below 50 points.

Death Threshold: 50 points or higher.

Duration: 5 years

The meeting room was deathly silent.

Not because they were thinking much, but because... they didn't dare to think too deeply.

Kishimoto Reiji spoke in an even tone, neither rising nor falling, like a machine reading a document:

"Start the meeting. Topic: Hoshino Shogo failed the SSS-level instance, God-Demon Great War, leading to national-level punishment."

Hisatomi Kenichi replied in the exact same tone.

"Hoshino Shogo is the head of the S-Class Player project. His failure... has been confirmed by the Rule System. I suggest not prosecuting him criminally, as that would create national emotional fluctuation."

Shiramine Aoi opened the file, her voice as thin as paper:

"The rule system appeared in front of the central plaza, issuing the penalty. Nationwide, the death rate due to emotions exceeding the threshold in the first 48 hours is 5.4%. The number is currently stable."

No one had any reaction. No anger, no panic, no pain.

They didn't dare.

Zhao Min Kai, a man of the Dragon Nation, quietly turned a page of a document. His voice was deep, but he absolutely did not let any emotion show:

"The Dragon Nation assesses that this punishment from the rule system is... let's call it very light, since the people of the Cherry Blossom Nation rarely express emotions anyway. It's lucky that the player Hoshino Shogo survived; otherwise, the loss for the Cherry Blossom Nation would have been the erasure of 70% of the population."

Yasuhara Takumi looked up:

"Mr. Zhao, thank you for the Dragon Nation's assessment. Regarding the technical support request, we... are ready."

Kishimoto Reiji ordered:

"We need an absolute emotional monitoring device, wearable and updated in real-time. The margin of error must not exceed 0.001."

Yasuhara nodded.

"The science team has started designing. Hoshino Shogo is also participating."

This statement for the first time caused a slight fluctuation in the room, but only at the 1–20 point emotional level, not enough to cause danger.

The name of the failure... remained a heavy shadow in this cold room.

Zhao Min Kai spoke up.

"I would like to add. Although emotions are limited, everyone can still maintain an index from 0 to 50 without being processed by the rule system. But... if the nation appears with another individual failing, it could create a new penalty; the Rule System is not merciful to the failures, the new penalty could be heavier than this."

The two words "new penalty" made the room temperature drop a few degrees, feeling like everyone was standing in a funeral where no one was allowed to be sad.

Kishimoto Reiji closed the file.

"So we agree, implement the Emotion-Band project immediately, a monitoring bracelet for the entire population. Completion deadline: before 2191/12/31."

"Understood."

"Understood."

"Understood."

Each person replied as if pre-programmed.

When the meeting ended, Zhao Min Kai walked out into the long corridor covered in black glass. He looked far towards the Sakura tower, where the young man named Hoshino Shogo was diligently installing sensors, trying to repair the mistake he created.

—"I didn't expect a genius like Hoshino Shogo to choose the wrong side in the instance. Fortunately, our player chose the right side."

—"The entire Dragon Nation should thank that kid, Zhao, now I have to get used to it here."

Zhao Min Kai breathed a very light breath.

The gauge on his left wrist reported:

[Emotion: 12/50], stable

He thought, as cold as a sharp wind:

"The year 2191 has just begun... The Cherry Blossom Nation will still have to pay a long price, I'll just have to wait for the next challenge."