Chapter 1: Prologue

Life was nothing like the stories.

No grand adventure. No destiny. Just an endless cycle of days that felt the same.

I wasn't some chosen hero or hidden genius. I was just Ren Kisaragi—a 16-year-old drifting through life without a purpose.

That's the thing about reality: it's not exciting, it's not meaningful. It just… exists.

I pressed play on my music, letting the familiar rhythm drown out the world around me.

Because honestly? That was the only thing that ever made sense.

Tokyo's evening streets were alive with movement—cars honking, people talking, advertisements flashing in neon colors. Yet, in the middle of the noise, Ren felt invisible.

Earbuds in, hands in his pockets, he walked home from school, his gaze downcast.

A group of classmates passed by, laughing about something that had happened in class. He recognized them—not friends, just people he shared a classroom with. They didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't expect them to.

It had always been like that.

Ren wasn't bullied. He wasn't hated. He just… wasn't noticed.

At school, he was average. Not failing, not excelling. His grades were just good enough to pass. He wasn't an athlete. He wasn't in any clubs.

And at home? There wasn't much waiting for him either.

His parents worked late, too busy to ask how his day went. He wasn't particularly close to anyone. He spent most of his free time either scrolling through his phone or listening to music, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling.

Is this all life is supposed to be?

That thought had been lingering in his mind more and more lately.

A notification flashed across his phone screen.

[New Message from: Boss]

Ren sighed.

His part-time job. The one thing that kept him moving, even if he hated every second of it.

I stepped into the dimly lit convenience store, the chime of the automatic door ringing in my ears. The place was almost empty, except for a lone customer browsing the shelves.

"Oi, you're late," my manager grumbled from behind the counter.

I pulled out my phone and checked the time. 6:02 PM.

"Two minutes," I muttered, sliding behind the register.

"Two minutes late every time," he huffed. "Hurry up and restock the drinks before the evening rush."

I didn't argue. There was no point.

Working at a convenience store wasn't exactly my dream, but it paid for my music subscriptions, and that was enough.

As I stacked bottles into the fridge, my mind wandered.

What's the point of all this?

School, work, home, sleep. Repeat.

I wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't doing anything.

It was like my life had already been decided for me, and I was just going through the motions.

Wasn't I supposed to be excited about the future? About growing up?

But no matter how much I thought about it… I felt nothing.

Like a song stuck on repeat.

By the time Ren's shift ended, it was well past midnight.

The streets were quieter now, the glow of streetlights casting long shadows. His breath was visible in the cold night air as he walked home, his music playing softly in his ears.

Then—

The city lights flickered.

Just for a second.

Ren slowed his steps, glancing up at the sky. It was strange—Tokyo never had a true night. The neon signs, the towering buildings, the never-ending traffic—it all kept the city alive, even in the darkness.

But now… something felt off.

The air was too still.

The usual distant hum of cars and people had faded.

And then—

A voice.

"Ren Kisaragi… you have been chosen."

Ren froze.

He ripped out his earbuds, heart hammering in his chest. The voice wasn't from his music.

It was everywhere.

The sky. The ground. His mind.

"You have no place in this world. You desire more. A purpose. A path."

Ren stumbled back, his breath caught in his throat. The buildings around him looked distorted, as if reality itself was shifting.

The voice was right. He did want more. He just never thought anyone was listening.

"Then prove your worth."

The ground beneath him vanished.

Ren's world turned to light.

A force pulled him upward, weightless and powerless. His body was no longer his own.

The last thing he saw was the city he had known all his life—blurring, fading, disappearing.

And then—

Nothing.