The streets of Tokyo buzzed with life, as they always did. Neon signs flickered on storefronts, and the cacophony of car horns and chatter filled the air. Shion Takahashi strolled down the bustling sidewalk, earbuds in, his favorite playlist drowning out the noise. It was an ordinary evening—a crisp autumn night where nothing seemed amiss.

But ordinary days had a way of unraveling when you least expected it.

Shion paused at a crosswalk, glancing at his reflection in the glass window of a convenience store. His shaggy black hair fell lazily over his forehead, and his school uniform, a dark blazer with a loosened tie, gave him the appearance of someone perpetually bored. And perhaps he was. Life had become a monotonous cycle: school, cram classes, home, repeat. No excitement, no surprises. Just the dull rhythm of existence.

He sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Another day wasted," he muttered to himself as the light turned green.

As he stepped onto the crosswalk, the air shifted. The faint hum of the city seemed to mute, like someone had turned the volume dial down on the world. Shion stopped mid-step, pulling out an earbud. The silence was deafening.

He looked around. People were frozen in place, their faces tilted toward the sky. A low, eerie hum resonated, growing louder with each passing second. Then he saw it.

The sky cracked.

A jagged fissure of light split the heavens, its glow casting an otherworldly hue over the city. The crack expanded, splintering like shattered glass. A pulse of energy erupted from the fracture, sweeping across the city like a shockwave. Windows shattered. Streetlights flickered. Shion stumbled, his heart pounding.

"What the hell…?" he breathed, staring up in disbelief.

From the crack in the sky emerged shadows—twisted, monstrous forms that defied explanation. They writhed and slithered, their shapes shifting constantly as they descended upon the city. Panic erupted as people screamed and ran in every direction. Cars collided, and the once-busy streets devolved into chaos.

One of the creatures, a grotesque mass of tendrils and glowing red eyes, landed mere feet from Shion. It let out an unholy shriek that rattled his bones. Shion froze, his legs refusing to move. The creature lunged.

Just as its claws reached for him, a blinding light enveloped his vision. He heard a voice—soft, ethereal, and undeniably female.

"The Fateweaver has awakened."

Shion's body felt weightless, as if he were being pulled through the fabric of reality itself. The world around him blurred, the chaos of Tokyo replaced by a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. He tried to scream, but no sound came. Darkness enveloped him, and for a moment, there was nothing.

Shion's eyes fluttered open to the sound of rustling leaves. A cool breeze brushed against his skin, carrying with it the scent of pine and damp earth. He blinked, disoriented. Above him stretched a canopy of towering trees, their leaves glowing faintly with a golden hue. Sunlight streamed through the gaps, casting patterns on the forest floor.

"Where… am I?" he muttered, sitting up. His head throbbed, and his body ached as though he had been tossed around like a ragdoll.

He looked down at himself. His school uniform was intact, though covered in dirt and leaves. The pavement of Tokyo, the fractured sky, the monstrous shadows—it all felt like a distant nightmare. Yet the vividness of it lingered, refusing to fade.

A sound caught his attention—footsteps, light and deliberate. Shion turned his head, his heart racing. Emerging from the trees was a figure, a young woman clad in leather armor that seemed both practical and elegant. A sword rested at her hip, and her piercing emerald eyes locked onto him with suspicion.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice steady and commanding. She had long, silvery hair tied into a loose braid, and her movements were graceful yet cautious, like a predator sizing up its prey.

"I…" Shion hesitated, unsure of what to say. "I'm… Takahashi Shion. I don't know how I got here."

Her eyes narrowed. "Another one from the rift?" she muttered under her breath, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "Listen, Shion, or whatever your name is. If you're working for the Abyss, you won't leave this forest alive."

"Abyss? What are you talking about?" Shion raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, panic creeping into his voice. "I'm just a high school student! I have no idea what's going on!"

Before the woman could respond, a guttural growl echoed through the forest. Shion's blood ran cold as he turned to see a creature emerge from the shadows. It was one of the monsters from Tokyo—its twisted, shifting form even more horrifying in the daylight. Its glowing red eyes locked onto them, and it lunged forward with terrifying speed.

The woman drew her sword in a flash, meeting the creature head-on. Her movements were fluid and precise, each strike of her blade slicing through the monster's tendrils. But the creature was relentless, its form regenerating almost as quickly as she could cut it down.

"Get back!" she shouted at Shion, sparing him a brief glance.

Shion stumbled backward, his mind racing. He was useless—just an ordinary guy caught in an extraordinary situation. But as he watched the woman fight, something stirred within him. A strange sensation, like a thread tugging at the edge of his consciousness. Instinctively, he reached out, as if grasping for something invisible.

Time seemed to slow. The threads of reality itself became visible to him—glowing, ethereal strands that connected everything around him. One thread, in particular, shone brighter than the rest, tethered to the creature. Without thinking, Shion reached for it.

A surge of energy coursed through him, and the thread snapped. The creature let out a deafening screech, its form unraveling like smoke caught in the wind. In moments, it was gone.

The woman lowered her sword, breathing heavily. She turned to Shion, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and awe.

"What… did you just do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Shion stared at his hands, trembling. "I… I don't know."

The woman sheathed her sword, her expression softening slightly. "My name is Lyria. And if you're telling the truth, then you're not just any ordinary rift-walker. You might actually survive this world."

Shion swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in. This was no dream. He was in a new world, one where survival seemed anything but certain.

And somehow, he was part of it.