The morning fog wrapped around Souta Minakawa like a damp cloak, softening the jagged edges of the mountain trail. Each step crunched softly on loose gravel, muffled by the thick carpet of moss and fallen leaves.
Souta paused, wiping sweat from his brow despite the cool air. He glanced back toward the small village nestled in the valley—a patchwork of quiet rooftops and winding streets. A place he called home, yet one that felt smaller and smaller with every passing day.
"Just a quick climb," he told himself. "No legends. No fairy tales."
But curiosity gnawed at him, relentless. The village elders had whispered of an ancient shrine, forgotten by time but still watching the sky. A shrine that held secrets from before recorded history.
He adjusted the strap of his worn hiking bag and pressed on.
The forest grew thicker. Birdsong faded. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Eventually, a weathered torii gate emerged through the mist, stoic and moss-covered, leaning slightly as if burdened by centuries.
Beyond the gate, uneven stone steps curled upward, half-swallowed by roots and vines. At the top, a tiny shrine barely bigger than a room sat in quiet defiance against the encroaching wilderness.
Souta's footsteps slowed.
He circled the shrine, eyes drawn to the massive cedar tree behind it. Its roots twisted like ancient serpents around something buried deep in the earth.
There, nestled among the gnarled wood, a faint shimmer caught his eye.
A fragment—smooth and translucent, no bigger than a hand mirror—glowed faintly, pulsing with soft blue light that seemed to breathe.
Souta knelt, hesitant.
"What are you?" he whispered.
His fingers brushed dirt from the surface. The fragment was cool, almost unnaturally so. Intricate patterns, like delicate circuitry, pulsed beneath its surface, shifting subtly.
His skin brushed a jagged edge, and a sharp sting bit into his palm. A bead of blood welled and fell onto the fragment.
In that instant, the world convulsed.
Light exploded—dazzling, blinding, consuming.
Souta stumbled, shielding his eyes.
When the light dimmed, he was no longer on the mountain.
—
He stood in an endless white void, a boundless expanse sprinkled with distant stars and shimmering constellations. Time and space felt fluid, like he was floating between reality and a dream.
Before him hovered a translucent panel—clean lines, soft glows, minimalist design.
Words formed, glowing softly:
System Initialization Complete
Host Registered: Minakawa Souta
Activating: Growth Matrix Space
Status Interface Unlocked
Souta's heart thundered in his chest, yet his mind was strangely calm—focused, sharp.
A chime sounded, and the status panel expanded:
[Host: Minakawa Souta]
Lifespan: 39 Years
Brain Processing Power: 1.0x
Life Points: 0
Followers: 0
Next to Lifespan and Brain Processing Power were two small [+] buttons—dim, inactive.
A new system message blinked urgently:
Life Points required to activate enhancement protocols.
Souta blinked, swallowing the lump in his throat.
His eyes drifted to the emptiness beyond the panel—nothing but pure white void.
No guide. No instructions.
Only the faint hum of something ancient and powerful.
Was this a dream? A hallucination? Or something else entirely?
He tried to steady his breathing, searching for a foothold in this strange new reality.
Who made this? Why me?
The interface pulsed gently, waiting.
Then, the void began to blur.
—
He gasped and collapsed onto the cold stone of the mountain, his cut palm throbbing faintly.
The sky overhead was shifting—the late afternoon sun filtering weakly through the thinning mist.
The fragment was gone. Not a trace remained.
Souta sat up slowly, eyes scanning the forest around him.
The air smelled of pine and damp earth—real and grounding.
But when he looked at his palm, a faint, glowing sigil shimmered beneath his skin.
And in the corner of his vision, almost imperceptible, the interface floated quietly, like a hidden layer of his perception.
His mind reeled, but beneath the shock stirred something else—a quiet resolve.
He touched the glowing mark.
A seed had been planted.