Everyone wonders, dreams, and lives. And eventually, everyone dies.
I was unremarkable in almost every way except in my dreams. I dreamt vividly, wildly. In my dreams, the unreal became real. I wandered the pages of books, leapt between fictional worlds, and lived a thousand lives that were never mine.
And then I died.
Not in some grand, mysterious way. Just... a heart attack. Too much coffee, too little sleep. The end of the line came in a quiet moment, surrounded by the smell of instant espresso and half-read novels.
First, there was light. Blinding, sterile white. Then the darkness came—thick, suffocating, infinite. I was floating, lost in a cosmic void. Terrified, I prayed. To every god I could think of—Greek, Norse, Hindu, Egyptian, Christian. Even a few anime gods for good measure. I screamed their names into the void, begged for anything, for anyone.
None answered.
But they looked.
I felt their gaze. Each more intense than the last. Crushing, burning, divine attention turned toward my insignificant soul. Bit by bit, their notice weighed me down, like planets orbiting my existence. I felt my soul stretch, my breath grow thin, my body tremble as if it were still alive. Like my heart would burst. Like I was about to be reborn and annihilated at once.
And then nothing.
No pain. No pressure. Just... an office.
Across from me sat a child. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Perfectly symmetrical. Like something carved from scripture and starlight.
"Hello, mortal," he said, cheerfully. "You died. Were sent for recycling, actually. No patron god. But then you prayed. Loudly. Desperately. And so many heard you. You made noise in the divine realms. That's not normal. You drew too much attention. Almost overloaded your soul."
I blinked. "What the fuck?"
"Reasonable reaction," the child said, smiling. "So... we held a gacha."
"...A what."
"A divine item-world-magic lottery. It was very exciting. And you, lucky soul, drew Odin's Eyes."
He clapped his hands, and golden cards materialized around me, glowing with arcane symbols.
"A Sacred Gear forged by the Abrahamic God, using Odin's eyes, those he gave to Yggdrasil in exchange for knowledge of the Primordial Runes. These eyes can peer into Truth, access the Akashic Records, and gift the bearer complete knowledge of runes."
"Also," he added, "you get Super Archive Magic, a powerful variant of the Archive system. Convert data into magic. Store, retrieve, replicate. You'll use magical holographic touchscreens instead of wands or chants. Very stylish. Extremely powerful."
I just stared.
"Oh, and the world you're going to?" he said brightly. "Wizarding World. Yep. Wands, castles, flying broomsticks, that whole thing."
He waved.
"Up you go, dear child."
And then, reality twisted.
I woke up in the Forbidden Forest.
My eyes were burning.
Too much magic. Too much knowledge. Runes flowed through my veins like fire. Archive screens shimmered into being around me, projecting magical data I couldn't yet understand. My heart thudded with energy. Not a wizard's core. Not bound by wand rules. I couldn't flick my wrist and alter reality like a pureblood wizard. But I had something else.
I had runes, carved language older than magic itself.
I had archive,a magical interface from another realm.
And unlike them...
I had no limit.