When I opened my eyes, I was on a train.
Not the rusty, graffiti-stained commuter trains back home. No...this was something else entirely.
Wooden panels lined the walls. The ceiling arched overhead like a cathedral, chandeliers swaying gently with the motion of the rails. Velvet seats stretched in neat rows, filled with passengers in crisp uniforms and flowing cloaks. Outside the window, emerald plains rolled endlessly, dotted with stone spires and glimmering towers.
I blinked. Once. Twice.
Then laughed under my breath.
"Unbelievable."
I knew this train. In fact, it would be weird if I didn't. I'd seen it a hundred times before—painted in CG backgrounds, clunky sprites layered over it. This was the Academy Express, bound for Arclight Academy. The opening scene of Starbreaker.
And somehow, I was sitting right in the middle of it.
Great. Just great. I click a button on a PC and end up in a visual novel.
If you've never heard of Starbreaker, don't worry. Hardly anyone has.
It was a futuristic fantasy VN, half epic and half tragedy—released by some indie dev with more ambition than polish. Maybe a hundred people, give or take, ever played it. Most dropped it after the prologue. Too bleak. Too complicated. Too buggy.
But me? Rain Ariken? The guy who couldn't finish anything in real life? I finished Starbreaker. I clung to it, even when I hated myself, even when I felt like the biggest waste of oxygen on Earth. It was my one constant.
And now… now it had become my reality.
The train clattered along the rails, rocking me in my seat. Across the aisle, a group of students whispered excitedly, their uniforms marked with the crest of Arclight, white lions stitched on navy coats. They carried books, swords, staves. Their faces were filled with nervous anticipation.
I knew the story. I knew what was supposed to happen. And it just so happened that I wasn't the protagonist. I was some random extra.
The real hero would board this very train as a transfer student, his journey beginning here. By the end of the year, he'd wield the legendary Starfire, rally allies, and carve his name into legend.
But I wasn't him.
I wasn't anyone. Just a nobody in the wrong seat.
Before panic could set in, I forced myself to breathe. One thing at a time.
If this was Starbreaker, then I wasn't on Earth anymore. At least… not the Earth I knew.
Because Starbreaker didn't take place in some generic fantasy land. Its premise started in our world.
The Great Shattering.
Decades before the game's events, the sky tore open. Portals ripped across Earth, bleeding into another world Eltraia.
Eltraia was already dying, consumed by something its survivors only called the Great Darkness. Entire nations crumbled. Dragons fled their ancient aeries. Elves abandoned their forests. Dwarves sealed their halls. And demons… demons swarmed like locusts, spilling into any realm they could reach.
When Eltraia collided with Earth, it wasn't a merger. It was a war.
Humans found themselves face-to-face with creatures they thought belonged in myths—elves, dwarves, dryads, dragons… and demons. Always demons. At first, we were dominated, our technology useless against magic. But over time, human bodies adapted to mana and spiritual forces, awakening supernatural powers. We could finally compete—though at a staggering cost.
The war lasted years. They called it the Great Shattering, and for good reason. Cities burned. Continents split. Half of Earth was consumed by demonic forces, swallowed whole like meat falling into the jaws of a starving wolf.
The rest of the world fractured.
Elves carved out emerald sanctuaries, their forests blooming unnaturally fast, bending to ancient songs. Dwarves tunneled deep into mountains, sealing themselves behind stone citadels and forging weapons to outlast centuries. Dryads and other spirits of nature retreated to hidden groves, watching from the shadows. Dragons, being dragons, ignored borders entirely—claiming skies, seas, and whatever land they pleased.
And humanity?
We were left with the scraps.
We had been the native race of Earth, but in the new balance of power, we were considered weak—fragile, short-lived, and lacking the raw magic coursing through the blood of other species. So when territory was divided, we got the smallest slice of land. The only reason we got anything at all was because Elves, Dwarves, and even Dragons agreed: humans made convenient landowners. Pawns in treaties. Negotiators. Middlemen.
That "scrap" became the Kingdom of Arcada, a bastion for the remnants of humanity. A single corner of Earth clinging to survival, its borders pressed tight between Elven forests, Dwarven mountains, and the ever-hungry tide of demons.
That was the world of Starbreaker.
That was the world I was sitting in.
The train shuddered, rattling as it cut across the plains. Our destination was the city of Arclight, at the far tip of Arcada home to one of humanity's greatest institutions: Arclight Academy. Because of its location, the city stood dangerously close to no man's land, the wasteland between human and demonic territory.
Outside the window, I saw the spires of distant watchtowers, Arclight's border forts. Their job was simple: hold the line against demons. I remembered them from the game. Every time you passed one in the background, it was like a grim reminder: civilization only stretched this far. Beyond the watchtowers lay demon territory.
Even in the VN, you could almost feel the weight of it. That half of Earth, lost. Cities buried in ash. Oceans turned black. Skies filled with screaming shapes.
And the worst part?
No one ever explained it.
The demons weren't given motives. No hierarchy. No culture. They were just… annihilation. Weapons of the Great Darkness that destroyed Eltraia before bleeding into Earth. And the Great Darkness itself? The devs never even tried to explain.
In dialogue, it was always written as ???, or hinted at in cryptic half-lines. The Great Darkness is… and then cut off. Like the writers wanted to build a mystery but never finished.
Back when I was playing, I thought it was sloppy writing. Now, staring at the horizon, feeling the hairs rise on my neck, I wasn't so sure.
Not everything was hopeless. Humanity had made massive technological advances thanks to the presence of magic, blending science and sorcery in ways that benefited everyday life. Airships, arcane engines, enchanted weaponry—things once impossible were now commonplace.
I leaned back against my seat, breathing slowly.
The real protagonist.
Mark Goldstrone a transfer student, condemned as weak by noble-born classmates, only to rise and surpass them all. His journey began on this train, bound for Arclight Academy.
But I wasn't him.
I glanced at my reflection in the glass. Brown hair falling into glowing green eyes, tired features, an expression somewhere between disbelief and resignation. No sparkling aura. No convenient "chosen one" sign above my head. Just a dead-average face, the only striking thing being my bright green eyes; eyes that felt like they didn't belong to me.
I wasn't the hero. In fact, I wasn't any character I recognized. Sure, there was a chance I was some hidden side character from another route never shown on-screen, but a gut instinct told me otherwise.
Surprisingly, my name here was also Rain. Rain Mistborn.
What a strange coincidence.
How did I know? No, I didn't suddenly inherit this body's memories. The name was embroidered under the badge of my Academy uniform.
Back in my old world, I was Rain Ariken. Twenty years old. A college dropout. A smoker. A drinker. A nobody who wasted years hating himself. And now, somehow, I was a background character in the only game I'd ever finished.
Still… I knew the story.
The basic route was burned into my brain.
The protagonist started as a poor transfer, mocked and ignored. At the Academy, he slowly formed a party—the group that carried the story. Together, they endured trials until the first invasion. That was the turning point.
Demons poured across the border. The protagonist rallied his allies, endured betrayal after betrayal, and finally claimed the Starfire—a celestial flame said to burn fate itself.
With that power, he destroyed the corrupted general leading the invasion and became known as the Starbreaker.
It wasn't a happy ending. Half his allies didn't make it. The kingdom was left in ruins. And the final scene hinted that the Great Darkness was still out there, laughing at the edges of the world.
But it was victory.
That was the story I knew.
Which meant… I also knew who lived. Who died. And who didn't matter.
If this was the basic route, maybe I'd be safe. But a suspicion gnawed at me, whispering that things wouldn't be that simple.