Haruto wakes up to someone poking his face.
Not gently. Not tentatively. Full-on poke poke poke like they're checking if he's dead.
His eyes snap open.
A child stares down at him. Maybe eight years old. Gap-toothed smile. Dirt smudged across both cheeks. Wearing what looks like medieval peasant clothes—rough-spun tunic, torn pants, bare feet.
The kid pokes him again.
[Child]: You dead?
Haruto:[…no?]
[Child]: Oh. Thought you were dead. Sleeping in the street is dangerous. Guards don't like it. Also thieves. Also rats. Big rats. Like this big.
The kid spreads their arms impossibly wide, demonstrating rat dimensions that would require genetic engineering and several violations of biology.
Haruto sits up. Too fast. His head spins. When did he fall asleep? How long was he out?
〈Okay. Assessment. Still alive. Still in weird magic city. Still have three days to not get erased. Also: there's a child. Children mean civilization. Civilization means potential Anchors.〉
He looks around properly now. He's in what appears to be a market district. Stone buildings line cobblestone streets. Wooden stalls display goods—fruits he doesn't recognize, fabrics in impossible colors, tools that look vaguely medieval but wrong somehow. And people. Lots of people.
Humans, mostly. But not all.
That woman has blue skin. That man has horns. That person is literally translucent. Their skeleton is visible through semi-transparent flesh.
Haruto:[I'm in an isekai. I'm literally in a fucking isekai.]
[Child]: What's an issey-kai?
Right. He said that out loud. In Japanese. And the kid understood him. Which means—
〈Oh. Oh no. Automatic translation? Is that a thing here? Do I just… understand everyone? Does everyone understand me?〉
He tests it.
Haruto:[Can you understand what I'm saying right now?]
[Child]: Duh. You're speaking Common. Everyone speaks Common. Are you stupid?
Not Common. Japanese. He's speaking Japanese but the kid hears Common. Linguistic magic. Automatic translation. One of those isekai conveniences he always thought was narratively lazy but is suddenly extremely grateful for.
Haruto:[Not stupid. Just… very lost. Where is this?]
[Child]: Valthren. Capital of the Asterveil Kingdom. Biggest city on the southern continent. Everyone knows that.
〈Asterveil Kingdom. Southern continent. Okay. New world geography confirmed.〉
Haruto:[And what continent is this exactly?]
The child gives him a look that clearly says "you're definitely stupid."
[Child]: Meridia. The southern continent? Where the big wars happened? Where the 『Stellaborn』 fight all the time? Do you hit your head or something?
『Stellaborn』. That word again. Transmitted as concept, not sound. Similar to how The Watcher communicated. Except the kid isn't speaking in brain-transmission. They're just… saying a word that carries weight. Meaning encoded into language itself.
〈So there's normal language and special language. Good to know.〉
Haruto:[Yeah. I definitely hit my head. Very hard. What's a Stellaborn?]
The child's eyes widen. Like he just asked what water is.
[Child]: You really hit your head. Stellaborn are—they're like—you know! People with 『Resonance』! Who can use the magic from 『Origio Lacus』! The super powerful ones who fight monsters and lead armies and stuff! Everyone wants to be Stellaborn but only special people awaken!
〈So. Magic users are called Stellaborn. They have something called Resonance. They draw power from Origio Lacus—which The Watcher mentioned. I have zero Resonance. Therefore I am not Stellaborn. Therefore I am bottom-tier trash in a power-based society.〉
〈Fantastic.〉
Haruto:[And where would someone go if they wanted to… I don't know. Register? Get identified? Find out if they have Resonance?]
Please let there be some kind of guild system. Please let this world have RPG mechanics. Please—
[Child]: The 『Resonance Hall』! Big building in the noble district. You can't miss it. Has the glowy crystal thing on top. They test people all the time. Costs five silver though.
Of course it costs money. Nothing is free. Not even confirming you're powerless.
Haruto:[And if someone doesn't have five silver?]
[Child]: Then you're broke and probably gonna stay broke 'cause all the good jobs need Resonance testing for proof. My mom says it's—what's the word—discriminishy? Discrimishation?
[Child]: Yeah! That! She says it's unfair but that's how things are. Rich people have Resonance, poor people don't, everyone stays where they're born. Unless you awaken late. Then you get lucky. Like the hero in the stories!
The kid's eyes light up with that particular childhood enthusiasm for heroes and adventure. The kind of enthusiasm Haruto used to have before three months of ceiling stains crushed it.
Haruto:[Right. The hero. Sure.]
〈I am not the hero. I am the guy who dies in chapter one to motivate the hero. Except I somehow survived chapter one and now I'm speedrunning my way to chapter two death via cosmic deletion.〉
The child tilts their head, studying him.
[Child]: You're really weird. Your clothes are weird too. What's that?
They point at his hoodie. Specifically at the graphic on the front. All Might. From My Hero Academia. His favorite comfort hoodie. The one he wore for three months straight because changing clothes required energy he didn't have.
Haruto:[It's… complicated. Fashion from far away.]
[Child]: It looks dumb. But also cool? Cool-dumb. Can I touch it?]
Before he can answer, the kid is already pawing at the fabric. Fascinated by the polyester blend that apparently doesn't exist here. The zipper gets special attention.
[Child]: What's this metal teeth thing?
Haruto:[Zipper. You… don't have zippers?]
[Child]: Buttons and laces. Sometimes buckles. This is magic, right? Tiny metal teeth that grip? That's genius magic! Are you a 『Craftsman』?
〈Oh my god. I could introduce the zipper. I could revolutionize medieval fashion. This is literally that isekai trope where modern knowledge becomes cheat skills except I don't know how to manufacture zippers so it's useless—〉
A voice cuts through his internal monologue.
[Woman's Voice]: SURI! Where did you—oh there you are!
The child—Suri, apparently—jumps. A woman approaches. Early thirties. Same rough-spun clothes as Suri but slightly less torn. Tired eyes. Work-worn hands. Definitely Suri's mother based on shared facial features.
Suri's Mother: How many times have I told you not to wander off? And bothering strangers! Apologize right now!
[Suri]: But Mom, he's got magic metal teeth on his clothes! And he doesn't know what Stellaborn are! I was helping!
The mother's eyes shift to Haruto. Assessing. Wary. He recognizes that look. The same look his mother gave strangers when they knocked unexpectedly. Protection instinct.
Suri's Mother: I'm sorry if my child bothered you, traveler. She means well but has no sense of personal space.
Haruto:[No, it's fine. I was lost. She helped.]
The wariness doesn't fade. If anything, it intensifies.
Suri's Mother: Lost. In Valthren. With clothes I've never seen and questions a child should know. You're not from Meridia, are you?
〈Shit. Too obvious. I'm failing Basic Blending In 101.〉
Haruto:[I'm from… very far away. Different customs. Different—everything. I just arrived today and I'm still adjusting.]
Suri's Mother: Mmm. Well. Welcome to Valthren, I suppose. Word of advice: don't draw attention to yourself if you want to survive here. The kingdom is… tense. Especially with outsiders.
That's ominous. He files it away under "things to investigate later if I survive three days."
[Suri]: Can we keep him?
[Suri]: What? He's lost! And he doesn't know anything! He'll die in like a day without help! Remember what happened to that merchant from the northern islands? He asked the wrong question and the Guards—
Suri's Mother: SURI. We don't talk about that. Especially not to strangers.
The mother grabs Suri's hand. Firm. Final.
Suri's Mother: Good luck, traveler. Try the 『Resonance Hall』 if you need work. Or the docks if you don't have coins for testing. They always need laborers. Dangerous work, but pays daily.
She drags Suri away before he can respond. The child waves over their shoulder. Enthusiastic. Oblivious to the tension.
And then Haruto is alone again.
In a medieval-ish marketplace in a city called Valthren in a kingdom called Asterveil on a continent called Meridia in a world he doesn't understand with three days to find an Anchor or cease to exist.
〈Okay. Prioritize. What do I need right now?〉
1. Information about Anchors
2. Money (apparently five silver minimum)
3. Food (his stomach is staging a protest)
4. Somewhere to sleep that isn't the street
5. Literally any idea what I'm doing
He checks the 『Path-Keeper』. The glowing symbol still points toward the massive cathedral-palace structure dominating the skyline. But now there's a number. Floating. Ethereal. "2.7"
〈Days? Kilometers? Arbitrary magic units?〉
He has no idea. But it's counting down. He can feel it. Intuitive knowledge. The same way he just knew how to follow it through the void.
〈2.7 days left. Less than three. The countdown started.〉
Panic tries to creep in. He shoves it down. Panic is useless. Panic gets you killed. Survival mode is better. Survival mode kept him functioning for three months. It can keep him functioning for 2.7 days.
Haruto starts walking. Not toward the cathedral thing. Toward the marketplace. Because information costs nothing if you just observe.
The market is busy. Afternoon crowd based on sun position—wait. Where is the sun? He looks up. The sky is still wrong. Purple twilight. Three moons. But there's light. Bright enough to cast shadows. Coming from… everywhere? Ambient magic light?
〈Of course. Magical lighting. Why have a sun when you can have omnidirectional magic light?〉
He weaves through the crowd. Watching. Listening. Learning.
Observation 1: Currency is coins. Various metals. He catches a transaction: three copper for bread. Five copper for cheese. One silver for a healing potion (actual healing potion, glowing liquid in glass vial, this world is ridiculous).
Observation 2: Social hierarchy is visible. Rich people wear multiple colors. Poor people wear browns and greys. Rich people are clean. Poor people are dirty. Rich people have 『Resonance』—he can feel it somehow, like static electricity. Poor people don't.
Observation 3: Guards are everywhere. Armored. Armed with swords and spears. Some have glowing weapons. Magic weapons. They watch civilians with casual suspicion. This is not a friendly police force. This is oppression with uniforms.
Observation 4: Stellaborn are obvious. They have an aura. Visible shimmer around their bodies. Colors vary—blue, green, gold, red. The auras pulse. Like heartbeats. Some are brighter than others. Power levels? Probably.
Observation 5: He has no aura. Zero. He checked his reflection in a shop window. Just a scrawny Japanese teenager in a hoodie looking severely out of place. No shimmer. No glow. Nothing.
He is so obviously powerless it hurts.
A food stall catches his attention. Meat on sticks. Skewers. The smell makes his empty stomach cramp. When did he last eat? Yesterday? The day before? His sense of time is broken.
The vendor notices him staring.
[Vendor]: Two copper per skewer. Fresh this morning. Best in the market district.
Haruto:[I don't have copper.]
[Vendor]: Then stop staring. You're making customers nervous.
Right. Because a suspicious foreigner loitering near food stalls is great for business. He moves on.
His stomach protests. Loudly. People glance at him. He hunches into his hoodie. Makes himself smaller. Tries to be invisible.
〈I need money. The mother mentioned docks. Day labor. Dangerous but pays daily. That's… an option. Except I have the upper body strength of a wet noodle and three months of muscle atrophy. Physical labor would kill me.〉
〈But so would starvation. Pick your death, Haruto.〉
He's about to head toward the docks—wherever those are—when something catches his eye.
A poster. Nailed to a wooden post. Hand-drawn. Crude but effective.
『SEEKING: Information on Astral Anomalies』Reward: 50 SilverInquire at: The Broken Compass Tavern
Astral Anomalies. That sounds… suspiciously relevant. Like maybe a category that includes "guy who got void-touched and transported without Resonance."
〈Fifty silver. That's—that's a lot, right? Based on the five silver testing fee, fifty is substantial. Enough to survive multiple days. Enough to eat. Enough to afford that Resonance test and maybe figure out this Anchor situation.〉
But.
There's always a but.
Information about himself is valuable. Which means people want it. Which means revealing he's an anomaly could be very good or very bad. He has no way to assess risk. No context. No knowledge of this world's politics or power structures or—
His stomach growls again.
〈Fuck it. Starving is definitely bad. Mystery reward is only maybe bad. I'll take those odds.〉
He memorizes the tavern name. The Broken Compass. Ironic, given his 『Path-Keeper』 situation. He asks a passing person for directions. They point vaguely east. "By the docks. Can't miss it. Look for the sign with the shattered compass."
Great. Docks. Where he was already planning to go.
〈Everything's coming together. Which means something will go horribly wrong soon. That's how this works.〉
Haruto navigates through the city. The architecture shifts as he moves toward the docks. Richer district near the cathedral becomes middle class becomes poor becomes rough. Buildings are more ramshackle. Streets are dirtier. Fewer guards. More suspicious glances.
He fits in better here, actually. Among the poor and desperate. His lack of aura doesn't stand out. Everyone here is powerless. Everyone here is surviving.
The docks appear suddenly. The city just… ends. Opens up onto water. Except not water. Liquid starlight? The ocean is purple-black with glowing constellations swirling beneath the surface. Ships bob in the harbor. Wooden ships with sails that glow. Magic sails. Of course.
And there—the tavern. The Broken Compass. Exactly as advertised. Wooden sign showing a compass split in half. Door hanging crooked on rusty hinges. Windows grimy. The kind of establishment where questions aren't asked and answers are cheaper than ale.
Haruto hesitates outside.
〈Last chance to reconsider. Once I walk in there and claim to be an anomaly, I lose anonymity. I become known. Tracked. Maybe hunted.〉
〈But I'm getting erased in 2.7 days anyway. So what's the difference?〉
He pushes open the door.
The inside matches the outside. Grimy. Dark. Smells like old beer and regret. Tables scattered haphazardly. Patrons hunched over drinks. Conversations stop when he enters. Eyes turn. Assess. Dismiss him as non-threat.
Conversations resume.
The bartender is a woman. Massive. Easily two meters tall and built like a professional wrestler. Scarred face. Missing left eye. Right eye glows faintly blue—some kind of magic prosthetic?
[Bartender]: You lost, kid?
Haruto:[I'm looking for whoever posted about Astral Anomalies. The reward poster.]
Every conversation stops again.
The bartender's glowing eye narrows.
[Bartender]: That so. And why would a kid in weird clothes be interested in that particular posting?
〈Moment of truth. Commit or retreat.〉
Haruto:[Because I might be one. An anomaly. I need to confirm with someone who knows what they're talking about. And I need money. So. Win-win?]
The bartender studies him. Long enough to be uncomfortable. Long enough that Haruto's armpits start sweating. Long enough that he's considering just running—
She jerks her thumb toward the back.
[Bartender]: Private room. Second door on the left. Knock three times. Do NOT try the first door. That's storage. Full of things that bite.
Haruto:[…understood.]
He weaves through tables. Patrons watch him pass. Some look curious. Some look hungry. Like sharks smelling blood. He keeps his eyes forward. Doesn't engage.
The hallway is darker than the main room. Two doors. He passes the first—hears something scrabbling inside—definitely not investigating that. Approaches the second.
Knocks three times.
He opens the door.
The room is small. One table. Two chairs. A single oil lamp providing light. And sitting in the far chair—
A person. Gender ambiguous. Hooded. Face hidden except for lower jaw. Covered in tattoos. Glowing tattoos. Runes? Symbols from various mythologies?
They gesture to the empty chair.
Haruto sits.
The figure leans forward. Studies him through the shadow of their hood.
Hooded Figure: You claim to be an Astral Anomaly.
Not a question. A statement. Testing his commitment.
Haruto:[I claim I might be. I don't know your definitions. But I was told I'm 『Void-touched』. That I have no 『Resonance』. That I shouldn't exist here. That the world will erase me in less than three days unless I find an 『Anchor』. So. If that qualifies as anomaly, then yes.]
The figure goes very, very still.
〈Oh. Oh that was either exactly right or catastrophically wrong. No in-between.〉
The figure reaches up. Slowly. Pulls back their hood.
The face underneath is wrong. Like The Watcher's void-face but different. This person has skin. Human features. But their eyes—their eyes are galaxies. Literally. Swirling cosmic formations where eyeballs should be.
[Figure]: Stars and void. You're actually telling the truth.
Haruto:[I mean. Yeah? Why would I lie about being a doomed anomaly?]
[Figure]: Most people lie for money. They claim to be special. Chosen. Touched by fate. Then I test them and they're frauds and I throw them to the sharks. Literally. We have magic sharks. They're very efficient.
Haruto:[That's… terrifying. Good thing I'm not lying then.]
[Figure]: Good thing indeed.
The figure extends a hand. Palm up. Symbols carved into their skin glow brighter.
[Figure]: I need to confirm. Place your hand on mine. This will feel uncomfortable.
〈"Uncomfortable" is ominous. But I'm already committed. And I need that fifty silver. And information. And literally any help.〉
Haruto places his hand on theirs.
Immediately, sensation floods through him. Like electricity but not painful. Like every nerve ending is being scanned. Read. Analyzed. His vision blurs. Sounds become muffled. Time stretches.
Images flash across his mind:
His room. Ceiling stains. Iceland. Greenland.The moment reality broke. That thing he can't describe.The Watcher. The void-face. Hundreds of eyes.The invisible bridge. Three moons. Purple sky.Suri's gap-toothed smile. Her mother's warning.This moment. This hand. This analysis.
Then it stops.
The figure jerks their hand back. Galaxy-eyes wide.
[Figure]: You're—you're not from this 『Layer』. You're from outside. From beyond the 『Firmament』. From—
They stop. Stares at him like he's simultaneously the most fascinating and most dangerous thing they've ever seen.
[Figure]: How are you even alive? The 『Lattice』 should have rejected you instantly. Should have unmade you the moment you crossed. But you're here. Stable. For now.
Haruto:[Yeah, about that "for now" part. The Watcher said I have three days. Now 2.7. How do I get an Anchor? And how do I not die?]
The figure sits back. Runs a hand through their hair. Laughs. Bitter. Disbelieving.
[Figure]: An Anchor. Right. Sure. You just need to bind your existence to this world's fundamental framework. Easy. Casual Tuesday activity. Do you have ANY idea how rare Anchors are? How difficult? Most people spend their entire lives searching. You have 2.7 days.
Haruto:[So you're saying it's impossible.]
[Figure]: I'm saying it's nearly impossible. But. There is… one option. Dangerous. Probably fatal. Definitely inadvisable.
Haruto:[I'll take it. What is it?]
The figure studies him again. Weighing. Considering.
[Figure]: The 『Origio Lacus』. The heart of this world. The source of all Resonance. If you can reach it and survive contact with its raw essence, you might—might—be able to forge an Anchor. Claim a connection through sheer will and desperation.
Haruto:[And the catch?]
[Figure]: The catch is Origio Lacus is inside the Grand Cathedral. The most heavily guarded location in the kingdom. Protected by Stellaborn, ancient wards, and things that make Guards look like children playing soldier. Normal people who enter unauthorized die. Spectacularly.
〈Of course it's in the worst possible location. Why wouldn't it be?〉
Haruto:[And if I don't try?]
[Figure]: Then you fade in 2.7 days. Peacefully. Painlessly. You'll simply stop existing. No corpse. No memory. Like you never arrived. The kindest death possible, really.
Haruto stares at them. At their galaxy-eyes. At the resigned acceptance in their expression. Like they've already written him off as doomed.
And something inside him—something that survived three months of ceiling stains and panic attacks and crushing isolation—something stubborn and stupid and desperate—says no.
Haruto:[I'll try the cathedral. Tell me everything I need to know.]
The figure blinks. Surprised.
[Figure]: You're serious. You're actually—you might be the stupidest or bravest person I've met. Haven't decided which.
Haruto:[Probably stupid. But I'm still trying.]
[Figure]: …alright then. The fifty silver is yours regardless. Information about genuine anomalies is worth the cost even if you die tomorrow. But if you survive—if you somehow pull off the impossible and forge an Anchor—come find me again. We'll talk employment. I can always use someone reality itself hasn't figured out how to kill yet.
They pull out a coin purse. Slides it across the table. Heavy. Clinking.
[Figure]: Fifty silver. Plus advice: don't go alone to the cathedral. Find allies. Or at least people who can distract the Guards while you sneak in. One person cannot fight their way through. Trust me. Many have tried. None succeeded.
Haruto pockets the coin purse. Heavier than he expected. Real. Tangible. His first success in this world.
Haruto:[Thank you. I—what's your name?]
[Figure]: Names have power here. Call me "Scholar." That's enough.
Haruto:[Scholar. Right. I'm Haruto. Haruto Kirihara.]
[Scholar]: Haruto. A name from beyond the Firmament. Remember this: you chose to survive. Don't waste it.
Haruto stands. Heads for the door. Pauses.
Haruto:[Oh, and Scholar? In my world, we have this phrase. "Plus Ultra." It means "go beyond." I'm gonna need that energy.]
[Scholar]: …I have no idea what you just said but it sounds motivational. Good luck, Haruto from Beyond.]
Haruto exits the private room. Walks through the tavern. Out into the purple twilight. Back onto the docks.
He has money now. Food becomes possible. Sleep becomes possible. Maybe even a bath because he smells like three months of not leaving his room.
But first—first he needs a plan.
Breaking into the Grand Cathedral. Accessing Origio Lacus. Forging an Anchor. All within 2.7 days while Guards and Stellaborn and reality itself try to stop him.
〈I'm gonna die. I'm absolutely gonna die.〉
〈But at least it'll be an interesting death. Better than fading away counting ceiling stains.〉
He checks the 『Path-Keeper』. Still pointing at the cathedral. Still counting down. 2.6 now.
Haruto:[Alright, universe. You want me gone? Make me work for it.]
He heads toward the market district. Food first. Then planning. Then probably more panic. Then—
A voice calls out behind him.
[Voice]: OI! ZIPPER BOY!
He turns. Suri is running toward him. Full sprint. Her mother chasing behind, yelling something about "don't bother the nice stranger."
Suri skids to a stop. Breathless. Grinning.
[Suri]: I followed you! Saw you go into the Broken Compass! That place is scary! Mom says only criminals go there! Are you a criminal?! That's so cool!
Haruto:[I'm—no—I'm not a—]
[Suri]: Doesn't matter! I told Mom you need help! She said no but I said yes so here I am! I know EVERYTHING about Valthren! I can be your guide! For only one silver per day! That's a discount 'cause you're funny!
Her mother arrives. Out of breath. Mortified.
Suri's Mother: Suri, I swear on the stars—
Haruto looks at Suri. Gap-toothed smile. Boundless enthusiasm. Completely unaware she's offering to help the universe's latest glitch.
〈A guide. Someone who knows the city. Could be useful. Or could be a child I accidentally get killed. Both options seem bad.〉
〈But I did say I need allies…〉
Haruto:[One condition. If things get dangerous, you run. No heroics. Deal?]
Suri's eyes light up like he just offered her the moon.
[Suri]: DEAL! We're partners now! This is gonna be the BEST! Mom, I got a job!
Suri's Mother: Absolutely not—
But Suri is already grabbing Haruto's hand. Dragging him toward the market.
[Suri]: First: food! You're skinny! Skinny people die fast! Then: I show you the cool places! Then: we plan your super cool adventure thing! Come on!
And just like that, Haruto's solo survival mission becomes a duo.
He has 2.6 days to storm a cathedral, survive contact with raw magical essence, and forge an Anchor to existence itself.
He has fifty silver coins, a magical compass, and an eight-year-old accomplice with no sense of danger.
〈This is going to be a disaster. An absolute disaster.〉
〈I can't wait.〉