The walk home felt longer than it ever had.
Katsuro's legs dragged under him like they'd been dipped in concrete. Bruises bloomed under his skin — the ones on his chest, ribs, the side of his face — but they barely registered. It wasn't the physical pain that gnawed at him. It was the storm in his chest. The confusion. The shame. The shock.
Today, everything had shifted. He still couldn't put it into words.
He passed vending machines, ramen stalls, students still in uniform laughing with their friends. Normalcy existed only a few feet away. But to him, it felt like a separate universe. Something unreachable. He avoided eye contact. Stared at the sidewalk. Clutched the lump of metal in his pocket like it was a lifeline.
His fingers trembled.
His ribs still stung from the earlier beating. Not from strangers this time. Not from random gang members. From classmates. The ones who smiled at teachers. The ones who asked to borrow pens like nothing had happened the day before.
That kind of cruelty left a deeper mark.
And now — that girl. The one surrounded by delinquents outside the station. Her eyes. Her expression when he stepped in. The brief look of surprise. Pity. Something else? She didn't run. She just stood there. Like she didn't expect anyone to step in.
He did.
And he got wrecked for it.
They left him on the ground. Broken. Bleeding.
But that's when he found it.
Under the old tree. That strange, intricate thing — part compass, part lock, part something else. It didn't glow or speak right away. It just… pulsed. And it felt like it was waiting for him.
And now it was active. Talking to him in cryptic symbols. Reacting to his voice.
[System Active.]
His breath fogged the cold air as he reached his apartment. The old building hadn't changed. Still cracked walls. Still peeling paint. He lived on the third floor. No elevator. No lights in the hallway.
Each step up the stairs felt like a climb out of a pit.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside. Dead silence.
The place smelled like old wood and forgotten dinners. His dad's shoes were missing. Meaning he wouldn't be home until morning — if at all. Maybe that was good. Katsuro didn't want to explain the bruises. Again.
He dropped his schoolbag at the door. Didn't bother changing. Just collapsed onto the tatami mat floor. Chest heaving.
The strange object in his pocket was warm now. Like it was alive.
He pulled it out.
+[LOCK]= ➤ [UNSEALED 1/??]
△{GEAR}-> Ready
≣[KEY]✓
->◇?
[Link Established.]
He stared at the symbols. They weren't emojis — not really. They were made from characters, symbols, parts of something old and digital, woven together into a unique visual language.
It spoke in its own code.
[Anchor Complete.]
[Veritas Realm: Connected]
[Cross-Link: Tokyo - Established.]
"Veritas," he whispered. "That other world."
Confirmed.
Katsuro lay back against the floor. A soft groan escaped his lips as his side throbbed. He looked at the ceiling fan spinning slowly above him. His breaths were shallow.
"What is it?"
Veritas: Parallel dimensional plane. Structure: Mid-to-high tier magic civilization. Divided territories. Non-linear time structure. Factions: Four known. One fallen. Environment: Semi-wild. Hostile. Dominant lifeforms: Human, demi-human, beast and more.
He blinked.
"You're telling me I'm connected to another world now?"
Affirmative. Cross-world system compatibility: ✓
"...Why?"
Selection parameters: Obscured. Candidate Profile: Fragmented Self, Untethered Identity, Willing Catalyst.
He frowned.
"That's not an answer. That's a riddle."
System intelligence level: Limited for user alignment. Fragmented data may restore with progression.
He sat up.
"Am I supposed to go there?"
You will not travel. You will be summoned. Anchor synchrony complete.
"When?"
Soon.
That wasn't helpful. His throat felt dry. He dragged himself to the kitchen, poured water from a cracked pitcher. Drank slowly. It hurt to swallow. His jaw had been hit harder than he thought.
"Will I survive there?" he asked, staring out the tiny window above the sink.
Unknown. Death is permanent in Veritas. However, failure here also leads to decay.
"Failure?"
Self-collapse. You are already breaking, Katsuro.
He went still.
The air around him thickened.
His fingers clenched.
"Don't talk like you know me."
You carry a fracture. You suppress memory. Your strength has never been physical.
Something about the words made his eyes sting. He turned away.
He wanted to scream. To hit something. To rewind time.
But all he could do was clench his teeth.
This wasn't a game.
It wasn't an escape fantasy. There was no magical sword. No blessing. No cheat skill. Just this strange, flickering system that spoke in riddles. A lock with no key.
"If I die there… no one will even notice."
Incorrect. Observation protocols active. External interference possible.
He scoffed. "Observation? You mean I'm being watched?"
Affirmative. Initial scan indicates you're one of three current anchors globally.
His heart skipped.
"Three?"
Correct.
"Who are the other two?"
Unknown. Boundaries between anchors are sealed until convergence.
Convergence.
Another vague term. Another layer to this bizarre fate.
Katsuro returned to his futon and lay down, facing the ceiling.
It creaked with every breath. The air felt colder than before. Or maybe he was just noticing it now.
"I didn't ask for this."
Neither did the world you're about to enter.
The system fell silent.
But the symbols still pulsed gently.
+[LOCK]= ➤ [UNSEALED 1/??]
△{GEAR}-> Active
≣[KEY]✓
->◇[Awaiting Event...]
Katsuro stared.
He had no map. No sword. No answers. Just bruises, silence, and a ticking mystery sealed inside a metal puzzle.
And now… he belonged to two worlds.
Whether he liked it or not.