Miku leaned over Len's shoulder, watching the screen as he scrolled through a map.
"So," she said, eyes narrowing slightly, "this is where you were invited?"
Len nodded, typing the name into the search bar.
"Yeah. Right here." He zoomed in. "Canopy Kingdom. Specifically, New Meridian—the capital."
The map settled.
Tall buildings.
Dense districts.
Too neat for a place Len had never heard of.
Miku stared at the screen for a few seconds longer.
"…That's beyond the UN border," she said slowly. "Right next to No Man's Land."
Len paused.
He hadn't missed that part—but hearing it out loud made it heavier.
"Yeah," he admitted. "It's basically off the map."
Miku straightened, folding her arms.
"That's not a concert invite," she said flatly. "That's a problem."
Len hummed in agreement, zooming out and then back in, checking satellite views, archived data—anything.
The information was thin.
Too thin.
No proper travel routes.
No civilian warnings.
And yet, the city was clearly alive.
Len leaned back in his chair.
"…Of course it's weird."
Miku glanced at him. "You're still thinking of going."
Len didn't answer right away.
Instead, he looked at the screen again, eyes calm, thoughtful.
'A wish,' he thought.
'No limitation.'
He exhaled.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I am."
Miku didn't smile.
She stepped closer and rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Then you're not going alone," she said.
Len looked up at her.
"…I didn't plan to."
Somewhere, far beyond borders and maps, something waited.
And for the first time since opening the letter—
The destination felt real.
Len stared at the screen a moment longer.
Then the room went quiet.
Not the normal kind.
The hum of electronics softened. The air felt… still.
Miku felt it too. Her hand tightened slightly on Len's shoulder.
"…Did you feel that?"
Len nodded.
His laptop froze.
The map glitched—just for a second—before correcting itself. The border lines flickered, then locked back into place like nothing had happened.
Len frowned.
'That wasn't lag,' he thought.
Somewhere beyond the room, beyond the house, beyond even the city—
Something noticed the coordinates.
No voice spoke.
No message appeared.
But systems adjusted.
Paths recalculated.
Data rerouted.
Access permissions quietly rewritten.
Len's screen refreshed on its own.
A new marker appeared over New Meridian.
No label.
No explanation.
Just a dot.
Miku's eyes narrowed. "Len… did you add that?"
Len shook his head slowly.
"…No."
The marker pulsed once.
Then the laptop shut itself down.
The house returned to normal.
The quiet lifted.
Miku exhaled. "I don't like that."
Len leaned back in his chair, oddly calm.
"Yeah," he said. "That's usually a bad sign."
He stood up.
"But whatever that was… it already knows I'm coming."
Miku looked at him, searching his face.
"…And you're okay with that?"
Len smiled faintly.
"It already found me," he said. "Might as well be polite."
Somewhere, unseen and unnamed, a system acknowledged the decision.
And began preparing.
Far beyond the UN border, high above the broken skyline of New Meridian, two figures clashed in the open air.
One of them moved with reckless speed.
She was a curvy girl wearing a white collared shirt that exposed her midriff, a short black pleated skirt, a loose black tie, and black thigh-high leggings paired with brown loafers. Beneath it all was a leotard, clearly built for movement, not fashion.
Her black hair flowed wildly—too wildly.
It twisted and lashed on its own, snapping like a living thing as she attacked.
[Insert image of Filia]
Her opponent didn't give an inch.
The woman blocking her strike had spiky dark-blue hair tied into a high ponytail, long bangs falling over her face. Her skin was pale, almost gray under the city's light. One eye—her left—glowed blood-red, the pupil shaped like a cross. The other was hidden behind a bandaged medical eyepatch, the scar beneath it obvious even through the wrappings.
A white medical mask covered her mouth, concealing a vertical scar that ran through her lips.
Her outfit was clinical and deliberate: a tight white medical scrub top with pink buttons, a matching nurse's cap, black fundoshi, leg wrappings, and simple white flats.
[Insert image of Valentine]
She caught Filia's strike with ease, metal clashing against flesh that shouldn't have held.
"Really?" Valentine said, her tone light—almost amused. "You attack me before the tournament even starts?"
Filia flipped back, landing on a nearby ledge. Her hair bristled, twitching with irritation.
"Hey, don't spin it," she snapped. "You're the one who struck first."
Valentine straightened slowly.
"I was testing you," she replied. "There's a difference."
Valentine's posture shifted.
Not much.
Just enough.
Her red eye flicked past Filia, scanning the skyline, the streets below, the air itself. Something about the city felt… misaligned.
"…Huh," she murmured.
Filia noticed. "What?"
Valentine didn't answer right away. She lowered her guard slightly, listening—not with her ears, but with something deeper.
"The city," she said at last. "It just changed."
Filia frowned. "What do you mean, changed?"
Before Valentine could respond, Filia felt it.
Her hair twitched.
Not from wind.
Not from movement.
Samson stiffened, strands pulling upward as if sensing pressure from above—no, not above. Somewhere else. Somewhere far.
"…Hey," Filia muttered. "What's your problem?"
Her hair didn't answer with words.
It recoiled.
Valentine's eye narrowed. "Your parasite felt that too."
Filia clenched her fists. "Felt what?"
Samson bristled harder now, curling close to Filia's shoulders like it was trying to shield her. The sensation wasn't hostile—but it was vast. Distant. Watching.
Not a presence in the city.
Something connected to it.
Something that had noticed New Meridian and quietly… acknowledged it.
Valentine straightened fully now, unease creeping into her voice despite herself.
"…That wasn't the Skull Heart."
Filia swallowed. "Then what was it?"
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The city below continued as normal. Cars moved. Lights flickered. Jazz drifted faintly through the air.
Nothing looked wrong.
That made it worse.
Valentine finally stepped back, adjusting her grip on her weapon.
"…Whatever just touched this place," she said calmly, "hasn't arrived yet."
Samson twitched again.
Waiting.
Meanwhile, in a different place
The casino glittered.
Lights flashed. Coins clinked. Music pulsed through the air as dancers moved and gamblers laughed, blissfully unaware.
Eliza paused mid-step.
[Insert image of Eliza]
The Ankh-shaped ribbon at her chest swayed though there was no breeze. Sekhmet did not emerge—but something beneath Eliza's skin shifted, restless.
Her blue eyes narrowed.
"…That's something," she murmured.
Not danger.
Not magic.
A signal.
Something old brushed against the city like fingers over silk, and for a heartbeat, Eliza felt noticed.
She smiled faintly.
"Well," she said softly, turning back toward the tables, "how intriguing."
Meanwhile, elsewhere
A graveyard lay silent under the pale glow of the moon.
For years, nothing had moved.
Then—
Crack.
A coffin split as if the earth itself had exhaled.
The lid burst open, and a pale hand twitched.
Squigly's body stirred, faded bluish-purple hair spilling over her face, one eye hidden beneath her bangs. Stitched lips parted slightly as breath—unnatural, but present—returned to her lungs.
[Insert image of Squigly]
From her ear and along her skull, Leviathan stirred, his serpentine form rising slowly, eyes scanning the night.
"…Yeah," he muttered, voice low. "You felt that too."
The air still hummed faintly with something distant. Something that had brushed past New Meridian and left ripples behind.
Leviathan leaned closer to Squigly.
"So did I."
Her visible red eye flickered open.
Leviathan's tone sharpened just a bit.
"Guess it's time to wake up from your death."
The graveyard fell silent once more.
But it was no longer empty.
Meanwhile, back with Len
Len zipped his bag shut and picked up the ticket, eyes scanning the destination one more time.
Canopy Kingdom.
New Meridian.
Rin stood beside him, arms folded, watching him in that way that meant she had already decided she didn't like this.
"…You sure you don't want me to go?" she asked.
Len stood and turned to her, expression gentle but firm.
"No. Miku's coming with me. You'll be fine here."
Rin didn't answer right away.
She stepped closer.
"Yeah," she said quietly, "but still."
Before he could react, she grabbed his face and pulled him down into a kiss—quick, fierce, and worried all at once.
"Just be safe," she muttered against his lips.
Len blinked, then smiled, resting his forehead against hers.
"I am gonna be safe," he said easily.
Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he added:
"Plus… we can't die, after all."
Rin froze.
Just for a second.
Not because she didn't know what he meant—but because something about the way he said it felt a little too casual.
A little too true.
Len headed downstairs, bag slung over his shoulder. Miku was already there, leaning over the counter, staring at the ticket like it might suddenly grow teeth.
She glanced up at him.
"So… like, do we just go to the airport?"
Len squinted at the ticket again, then at his phone.
"Apparently so?"
Miku blinked.
"…Huh. That's simple."
Too simple.
Luka, who had appeared beside them without anyone noticing, took the ticket from Miku's hand and read it once.
"Yeah," she said slowly. "Way too simple."
Len felt it then.
That quiet again.
The kind that only shows up right before something goes very, very wrong.
The airport was… normal.
Too normal.
People moved in neat lines. Screens updated on time. Announcements played with perfect clarity. No delays. No panic. No chaos.
Len frowned as he walked beside Miku.
'Airports are never like this.'
Miku noticed it too. Her steps slowed just a little.
'Why does this feel like a simulation?'
They reached the check-in counter. A smiling attendant looked up, eyes bright, posture perfect.
"Destination?"
Len slid the ticket forward. "New Meridian."
The attendant didn't blink. Didn't hesitate.
"Of course."
That was when it reacted again
Len's phone vibrated sharply in his hand.
Then again.
Then—nothing.
The screen froze mid-signal. The familiar web of data, charts, and location pings stuttered… and went dark.
No warning. No error message.
Just gone.
Len stopped walking.
Miku turned instantly. "Len?"
'That's not possible.'
The Mother Network didn't go offline. Ever. Not without alerts. Not without safeguards. Not without him feeling it.
Len swallowed.
"It cut out," he said quietly.
The attendant slid the boarding passes across the counter with a pleasant smile.
"Have a wonderful flight."
Miku took the passes but didn't look away from Len. Her voice dropped.
"…Len. There's no signal. Not even background noise."
Around them, people kept moving. Laughing. Talking. Scanning tickets.
Normal.
Perfect.
Wrong.
Len forced his legs to move again.
'So this is how they do it.'
No force. No warning.
Just… letting him walk in.
They walked into the plane and took their seats.
Len glanced around, then leaned closer to Miku.
"I am surprised nobody recognized you."
Miku adjusted her hood, eyes scanning the cabin.
"Yeah, same."
She reached up and pulled the hood down.
The man in the seat next to them turned his head.
He looked at her.
Blink.
Blink.
His brain visibly rebooted.
"M—MIKU HATSUNE?!"
Silence.
Then chaos.
Gasps. Phones flying out. Someone dropped their carry-on. Another person screamed again just to be sure.
"Miku?! She's real?!" "No way!" "WHY IS SHE ON A NORMAL FLIGHT?!"
Len slowly leaned back in his seat.
"…You jinxed it," Miku said flatly.
A flight attendant froze mid-step, stared at Miku, and whispered,
"…I knew I should've taken today off."
Len covered his face with his hands.
'We lasted five minutes.'
Miku smiled and gave an awkward little wave.
"Hi."
The screaming somehow got louder.
Due to the problem caused by the Vocaloid, the flight attendant was forced to relocate both of them into first class to contain the chaos.
Yes.
Someone had to be demoted.
The man currently sitting in first class was mid-sip of champagne when a shadow fell over him.
The flight attendant smiled. Too politely.
"Sir, we're going to need you to move."
He blinked. "Move where?"
She gestured down the aisle.
"…Economy."
His smile cracked. "But I paid—"
Another scream of "MIKU HATSUNE" echoed through the plane.
The flight attendant's eye twitched.
"Sir. Please."
He was escorted away like a fallen king, clutching his carry-on and dignity.
Len watched the whole thing in silence.
'Someone just lost a class war.'
Miku leaned toward him as they sat down in first class.
"…I feel a little bad."
Len buckled in.
"I don't."
Across the cabin, the demoted man stared at them with betrayal in his eyes.
Miku gave him a small, apologetic wave.
He looked away.
The curtain closed.
Peace was restored.
For now.
A woman across the aisle leaned over, lowering her sunglasses just enough to whisper.
"Excuse me… is he your bodyguard?"
Len froze mid-seatbelt click.
Miku blinked. "Huh?"
The woman nodded toward Len. "The hair, the posture, the vibe. Very professional."
Len slowly turned his head.
"…I'm her boyfriend."
The woman laughed. "Oh! Right, right—wait."
She leaned in closer.
The banana-shaped hair.
The face.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh my God."
Len sighed. "Yeah."
Her hand flew to her mouth. "You're—"
"Len Kagamine," he finished flatly.
She immediately turned red. "I— I thought you were just… you know… security."
Len deadpanned.
"I get that a lot."
Miku looked away, cheeks pink, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Before the woman could recover, the plane's intercom clicked on.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking."
The cabin quieted.
"We would like to apologize for the brief disturbance earlier in the cabin."
A pause.
"And a special apology to Hatsune Miku."
The entire first-class section slowly turned.
Len and Miku both looked away at the exact same time.
Miku slid down in her seat and wrapped an arm around Len, hiding her face against his shoulder.
'I told you,' Len thought, staring very hard at the seat in front of him.
'Hoodies exist for a reason.'
Miku muttered into his shoulder.
"I miss economy."
Len didn't hesitate.
"Same."
Somewhere behind the curtain, the demoted man sniffed.
A small tug hit Len's sleeve.
He looked down.
A kid—maybe eight or nine—stood in the aisle, clutching a tablet covered in Vocaloid stickers. His eyes were locked entirely on Len.
"…Are you Kagamine Len?"
Len blinked, then smiled gently. "Yeah. That's me."
The kid's face lit up.
"I knew it! My sister said you weren't real and that only Miku mattered, but I told her you were cooler!"
Len laughed, kneeling a little so he was eye-level. "Hey, don't tell her I said this—but you've got good taste."
The kid nodded solemnly, like this was sacred knowledge.
Behind Len, Miku leaned in slightly, still smiling.
The kid didn't even glance at her.
Not once.
Miku waited.
And waited.
Nothing.
Her smile slowly turned… proud.
Len ruffled the kid's hair. "You want a picture?"
"Yes!"
They posed. Len flashed a peace sign.
Click.
The kid ran back to his seat like he'd just met a superhero.
Len stood and turned around—only to see Miku beaming at him.
Not jealous.
Not annoyed.
Just happy.
"Well," she said, hands behind her back, rocking on her heels, "look at you."
Len scratched his cheek. "Guess today's my day?"
Miku nodded, eyes warm. "It is. And I like it."
She leaned in and whispered, playful but sincere.
"Don't worry. I'll share the spotlight."
Len smiled wider than he meant to.
Somewhere in the cabin, the universe adjusted its balance.
For once—
Len got recognized first.
And Miku was genuinely proud of him.
To be continued
Hope people like this ch and give me power stones and enjoy