The train clattered steadily along the tracks as the cityscape blurred beyond the window. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the buildings, their glass windows reflecting the fading light. The hustle of the evening commute was lost on Kido Katsuo, who sat quietly in his seat, absorbed in the pages of a well-worn book.
In his mid-twenties, Kido had always been the type to savor things to the fullest. Unlike the fleeting trends of the world, he had a deep attachment to the novel he was reading—The World of Magic and Sword.
The train car rocked gently, a rhythm that matched the steady pace of his thoughts. The novel, over 1,100 chapters long, had begun as a shining beacon of fantasy—so full of life, hope, and adventure. But over time, as the story's protagonist and his companions faced countless battles, the world had darkened. One by one, beloved characters had met tragic ends, and with each death, the fanbase had dwindled.
Kido was one of the few left, still reading it to the end, his determination unwavering. The novel had started a decade ago when he was just a young man in his twenties. The beginning was bright, optimistic, full of promise, but as the years passed, the tone had become grim, and the deaths had piled up. Yet, Kido refused to give up on it. There was something in the way the story was written, something raw and real that made him stay. Even now, with the last chapter in his hands, he knew that despite all the pain and loss the characters had endured, the conclusion was close—and he needed to see it through.
The protagonist had faced the ultimate villain, his love interest and companions by his side, after a long and painful journey. The final battle had been fought, and victory was at hand. Kido could almost feel the weight of those final words on the page, the end of an era for the characters and for the fans who had stuck with the story until the very last line.
He sighed, turning the final page of the book. A bittersweet emptiness filled his chest. This was the conclusion. After ten years, the story was over.
Outside, the city skyline darkened as the train passed under the glowing streetlamps. Kido stared out at the rapidly fading light, his mind lingering on the novel's end. There was a strange sense of finality to it, like the closing of a long chapter in his own life. The city around him felt more distant now, the world outside his little bubble of routine and work slipping away.
The train jerked slightly as it approached his stop, and Kido blinked, momentarily distracted. But as the world outside blurred into the distance, he found his thoughts drifting. The story was over, but for him, something still remained—a sense that there was more waiting.
Just as he stood, ready to leave the train, a sudden shift in the air seemed to stop time. The surroundings blurred, as if the world itself had been torn apart. Kido's breath caught in his chest, and before he could even react, the ground seemed to vanish beneath his feet.
The familiar hum of the train faded into silence.
And everything went dark.