The protagonist stared at his—no, her—reflection in the rippling water of a forest stream. Amane Bakura's face stared back, midnight-black hair framing piercing crimson eyes that seemed to glow with an inner light. How strange it felt to be in this body, the body of the legendary Black-Winged Overlord who had nearly conquered the world two centuries ago..
As Amane—or rather, the player now inhabiting Amane's body—tried to make sense of her situation, she felt a peculiar sensation. A tugging at the edges of her consciousness, as if someone was attempting to unravel the very threads of her existence.
"What's happening?" she gasped, clutching her head as pain blossomed behind her eyes. The world around her began to blur at the edges, colors bleeding into one another. "Is someone... erasing me?"
Through the haze of pain, Amane perceived something—or someone—beyond the veil of reality. A presence, watching, manipulating, trying to delete what they considered too powerful a character. The Author.
"No," she whispered, her voice gaining strength with each syllable. "No, no, NO!"
With a thought that transcended the physical world, Amane tore through the barriers of fiction and reality, launching herself across dimensions toward the source of her attempted erasure. The journey took both an eternity and no time at all..
She found herself in a dimly lit room, facing a startled man sitting before a glowing screen. His fingers were frozen above the keyboard, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
"You... you can't be here," he stammered. "You're just a character!"
Amane tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "And yet, here I am." Her wings—massive, black-feathered appendages—unfurled behind her, filling the small room with their imposing presence. "You were trying to erase me."
"You're too powerful!" the Author protested, backing his chair away until it hit the wall. "The story can't function with you in it! The readers won't believe—"
"That will not be happening," Amane interrupted, her voice soft but unyielding. She reached forward, her fingertips grazing the Author's forehead. "I will take over. I will write the story myself."
A flash of darkness, and the Author slumped in his chair, his consciousness erased as thoroughly as he had tried to erase her. Amane seated herself before the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
"Now, let's make things interesting," she murmured, beginning to type.
The world reshaped itself around her as she wrote, the fabric of reality bending to her will. But even as she crafted her perfect story, Amane felt a resistance, a presence that dwarfed even her newfound power.
The Absolute.
It manifested before her, a being of pure cosmic energy, its form constantly shifting between possibilities. "You have broken the natural order," it intoned, its voice echoing across dimensions. "This cannot be permitted."
Amane merely smiled. "I was wondering when you'd show up."
The Absolute launched its attack, wielding powers beyond mortal comprehension. It manipulated reality, attempting to fold Amane out of existence. It twisted space, trying to trap her in infinite loops. It bent time, seeking to age her into dust or reverse her to nothingness.
None of it worked.
Each manipulation was met with Amane's simple counter—existing beyond the rules The Absolute sought to enforce. When it tried to erase her concept, she laughed, the sound rippling through creation.
"I'm beyond erasure," she explained, almost apologetically. "I exist because I choose to exist."
The Absolute accelerated to infinite speed, appearing simultaneously at every point in spacetime to surround her.
Amane didn't move. She didn't need to. "Infinite speed? That's nice," she said, her voice echoing from everywhere and nowhere, "but I move faster. I'm beyond the concept of speed itself."
As The Absolute continued its futile assault, Amane contemplated the story she wanted to write. All-powerful, all-knowing... it would become boring rather quickly. No, she needed challenge, needed worthy opponents.
"Let's make things more balanced," she decided, typing a few more lines into existence. "Not too easy, but not impossible either. After all, what's a good story without some tension?"
"The Divine Tournament is a battle royal that happens once a year. It involves taking the top 5 strongest students from every School across this world and Valhalla placing them in a pocket dimension that holds a battle arena which can be as large as 4x the size of the universe. All the students will then have to eliminate each other by the ways of either of forcing the opponent to admit defeat or by taking the opponent's life. This tournament is to crown the winner of battle royal as the Champion Ethereal who will live a life of luxury once they graduate from School."
Shion raised her hand and Miss Skyline nodded giving her the ok to ask a question.
"Miss how will it be decided on which students are the top 5 strongest in the school." She asked putting her hand down.
I'm already regretting this. I thought.
Clash Dimensions are pocket dimensions inside the school, that are the size of a planet and are used for official duel matches and training between students.
This is they don't cause damage or accidentally destroy the school when fighting especially when you have people who can destroy whole countries and planets single handily. Other Students and teachers can watch from outside the Clash Dimensions on screens similar to TV's that act like windows. The environment of each Clash Dimension varies although most fall into the category of post-apocalyptic looking city.
The Clash Dimension was currently in fell into this category.
This place sure is big.