The room was dark and silent, broken only by the sound of a keyboard as a young man typed furiously in the Steam comment section. The screen's flickering light illuminated his face amidst the gloom. He had just finished watching the ending of
[Dies Irae Pantheon] for the third time. Despite the grandeur and complexity of his favorite game series, something deeply bothered him.
"Why does it always have to be this way?" he muttered, frowning. "Reinhard, Hajun, Mercurius... They act as if they're omnipotent but never fight or care about that damned throne that binds them! They have the power to shape reality but make such... selfish and idiotic choices!"
He paused, his frustration growing. "And that ridiculous idea of infinite cycles? It feels like an excuse for the author to avoid writing a proper ending. What's the point of it all? If I were there, in that protagonist væřĥŕæm's place, I'd do something better—something meaningful for everyone!"
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Unbeknownst to the young man, in another dimension of reality, a certain being observed the comment section of its "game." One particular comment caught its interest.
『Why are the characters so self-centered? Seriously? Come on, the protagonist doesn't even have a proper personality and feels like a mere puppet without willpower. And that game's ending? Not satisfying at all! Even I could do better.』
"Hehehe... Well, well… Let's see how much confidence you truly have in those words… player…"
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Alone in his room, the boy suddenly felt an oppressive weight unlike anything he'd experienced before. A low, distorted laugh echoed around him, though no one else was there. He froze as the sound reverberated directly within his skull. It felt as if invisible claws were tearing through his mind, rummaging through his deepest thoughts.
"Interesting... So you think you could do better?"
He swallowed hard, spinning around quickly, but the room was empty. Before he could question his sanity, the voice spoke again, clearer this time, every word like a nail driven into his consciousness.
『We are Naraka. To you, we and our world are nothing more than a story, an idea. But isn't that funny? To us, you are just a small piece, a distraction in our infinite domain. That said, we find your 'constructive criticism'... amusing.』
The computer screen flickered, displaying chaotic images—spinning black holes, exploding stars, and indistinct figures radiating overwhelming presence. Then everything went dark. A deafening hum filled the air, and he fell to his knees, clutching his head as the voice continued.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" he croaked, his throat raw as if scorched.
『If you believe yourself so superior, let's test your theory. I want to see what a 'player' like you would do in my world. Show me, human. Do something… meaningful.』
Before he could scream, the world around him began to shatter. The floor cracked, revealing an infinite void below. An invisible force pulled him, dragging him into the abyss. He reached for something to hold onto, but his hands passed through the furniture as if they were ghosts. Everything twisted into a storm of lights and shadows, and he fell.
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He plummeted through a series of portals in rapid succession. Each wormhole he passed through was a singularity, compressing and distorting his perception. For a moment, he glimpsed fragments of stories and iconic figures from the Masadaverse—Reinhard, Mercurius, Hajun—all watching him with indifferent expressions, as if he were insignificant. With each passage, his mind felt crushed under the weight of overwhelming information. It was as if the entire universe was trying to etch itself onto his soul.
"I... can't...!" he tried to scream, but the sound was swallowed by the void.
Finally, he emerged from the last singularity, crashing into a desolate field with explosive force. The impact created a crater, scattering dust and debris in all directions. He tried to stand, but his vision blurred, and his body felt like lead. Staggering a few steps forward, he collapsed face-first into the ground.
"Are you alright?" A soft, feminine voice echoed nearby, filled with concern. He tried to focus, but the figure was a mere blur, indistinct, as if it didn't fully exist in his perception.
Before he could respond, another presence manifested—this time directly in his mind.
"Ah, finally!" The voice was commanding and authoritative, yet laced with cruelty. "The new player in this game of thrones has arrived. I am Muzan, the Remorseless. And you... I claim you as my dear sensor... Pansuke..."
Those words were the last thing he heard before losing consciousness.
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[POV Pansuke]
After what felt like hours, I woke up to excruciating pain. As I lay on my back, I tried moving my head slightly from side to side, but the agony was unbearable. I could see and feel red liquid trickling from my forehead and pooling on the ground. Then, a sharp, intense pain shot through my entire body like lightning down my spine. My arms instinctively clutched at myself in a futile attempt to stop the pain. My bones felt shattered, my right arm grotesquely dislocated, with blood dripping onto the flowers beneath me.
I was clearly in shock; otherwise, I would have been screaming at the top of my lungs. I bit my lip to keep my mind steady, but the unbearable pain made me want to do nothing more than scream.
Blood dripped slowly, the sound of it hitting the flowers below me was deafening in the stillness, thanks to my scrambled senses. My body froze as my mind struggled to process what was happening. The last thing I remembered was being in my room and suddenly thrown into… whatever that kaleidoscope was.
Pain… it was all I could comprehend. The ground beneath me was soft, but the air reeked of fire and iron.
"Pain…"
The word escaped my lips as blood dripped in a cascade. My violet eyes gazed at the cosmic starry sky above. So brilliant, yet so dark. A bitter smile formed on my bloodied lips. This view was beautiful and yet so agonizing. How painfully poetic it was to have fallen beneath such a lovely sky.
My senses were still a mess, but I was certain the sky wasn't supposed to be purple with rainbow-colored geometric shapes.
"You're alive?"
The voice beside me startled me, but in my broken state, all I could do was roll my eyes toward the speaker.
She was… beautiful. Long red hair, warm eyes, and most strikingly, a futuristic suit of armor.
"H-hi?" I croaked, blood quickly rising to my mouth again.
I heard her sigh before she began applying something to my wounds.
"Stay still. Moving too much will worsen your injuries and blood loss."
That was all I heard before the pain began to dull. Whatever she was doing was working.
"My name is Mitra ParaAtman. What's yours?"
My name? My name was—wait, what was my name?
『I claim you as my dear sensor… Pansuke…』
"P-Pan...suke?" I murmured, almost as if asking myself.
Her hum of agreement suggested she was satisfied with my answer.
"Normally, I wouldn't recommend sleeping, but I'll make an exception. You seem like a Krishna since your body is healing itself. You're lucky; you could've become a Yuga if you'd combusted on impact. For now, you're stable. Rest, Pansuke. I'll be here when you wake."
Krishna?
Yuga?
What was Mitra ParaAtman talking about?
Well… maybe it wouldn't hurt to take… a nap…
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