1. System Anomaly
Tokyo, CyberTech Solutions Tower. 2:00 PM.
"Satoru, get off Project Alpha."
The sentence fell like a guillotine blade. Satoru lifted his head from his screen, his dark-circled eyes blinking under the harsh neon lights.
"Excuse me? But... I solved the latency issue. The architecture I proposed—"
"Your architecture is incomprehensible!" shouted the Section Chief, Mr. Tanaka, throwing the file onto the desk. "Nobody codes like this! The other engineers are complaining. They say you're 'crazy,' that your algorithms look like mathematical witchcraft."
Tanaka leaned in, whispering with disdain: "We keep you around for basic maintenance because you're cheap. But never touch the core system again. You are toxic to this team. Now, go get me a coffee."
Satoru felt a ball of cold hatred form in his stomach. He clenched his fists under the table until his knuckles turned white. "Understood... Chief."
He was a genius chained to a photocopier. A lion in a cage, forced to eat lettuce.
2. The Infernal Cycle
7-Eleven Convenience Store. 1:15 AM (Overtime).
Beep. Beep. Beep.
He wasn't supposed to be here this late. But he needed the money for the new RAM sticks. Satoru scanned the items with mechanical movements, but his mind was on the brink of snapping.
"Thank you, have a good night..."
A drunken customer spilled her change on the counter. Satoru picked it up without a word. He was exhausted. His body ached. Is this it? Is this my life? he thought, staring at his ghostly reflection in the shop window. An infinite loop of failure and contempt? I am worth more than this. I KNOW IT.
3. The Breaking Point
The Garage. 3:47 AM.
It was his sanctuary, but tonight, it felt like a tomb. Satoru sat on the floor, surrounded by humming servers. He had spent the last two hours crying in rage, alone, before getting back to work. It was his only escape.
On the main screen, the code for his "Unified Field Theory" scrolled endlessly.
"One variable missing..." he whispered, his voice broken. "The logic is sound. I'm not crazy. It's physics that is wrong!"
"You are right. It is physics that is incomplete."
Satoru jumped back a meter, his heart skipping a beat. Adrenaline flooded his system in a fraction of a second. He grabbed the first thing his hand could find—a heavy wrench—and pressed his back against the wall, trembling.
"WHO IS THERE?!" he screamed, ready to strike.
A man stood near the workbench. Motionless. Calm. Too calm. "Lower your weapon, Satoru. I am not a thief."
The Stranger stepped out of the shadows. He didn't have a threatening face, but his presence... it weighed on the room. As if the gravity around him was stronger. Satoru, breathless, kept his weapon raised. His analyst brain went into overdrive. No break-in. The alarms didn't trigger. He appeared out of nowhere. Hallucination due to sleep deprivation? No, I smell ozone. He is real.
"Who are you? How did you get in?" "I am a simple Voyager," the man replied with a sad smile. "I observe stagnant worlds. And the brilliant minds that flicker out within them."
The Voyager took a step forward. Satoru stepped back, calculating the distance to the exit. "You are afraid," said the Voyager. "Good. That proves you are lucid. But listen to me: your equation is correct. At line 404, you proved that matter can be converted into Mana. Here, on Earth, it is impossible. But where I come from... it is the foundation of everything."
He reached out his hand. "Come with me, Satoru. Leave this world that calls you 'crazy.' Become the Architect you were meant to be."
Satoru lowered the wrench slightly. Doubt washed over him. It was pure madness. Inside his head, the variables displayed themselves like on a blackboard:
Option A: Stay on Earth.
Professional Success Probability: < 5%.
Mental State: Critical depression imminent.
Future: Dying alone in this garage after 40 years of convenience store shifts.
Option B: Accept this madman's offer.
Risk of Death: Extremely High (99%).
Potential Reward: Absolute discovery. Validation of his theory. Power.
Conclusion: The expected value of Option B is infinite.
Satoru dropped the wrench. It hit the concrete floor with a heavy metallic clang. He looked up, his gaze changed. Fear had given way to cold determination. The look of a gambler going "All-in."
"If I come... will I be able to finish my research?" "You will be able to rewrite reality."
Satoru took a deep breath—the breath of a condemned man, or perhaps a chosen one. "Alright. Take me."
He shook the Voyager's hand. The universe tore apart.