The beginning of a remastered Tale

A_mishap_gone_wrong

There was a story about a boy struck by lightning…..

While his soul met up with god, god grew compassionate and gave the boy a second chance in a new world. A world filled with magic and mysteries.

The boy saved lives…

Restored peace…

Healed the sick…

The boy was a savior among the people and adored as a hero….

But what if.

What if… maybe Fate had other plans?

What if… The boy named Touya Mochizuki was never struck by lightning and someone else took his place?

What if the roll was given by someone filled with misfortune?

Lady fate had decided.

She may not be able to control the fate of that one boy…. But it was never said she couldn't control the fate of the world the boy was sent to…..

The world's fate lies now in the hands of a simple highschool boy.

In the empty hallways, the sound of many footsteps echoed loudly. Sweat flowed down her face, which had a glowing olive complexion from the sun. She looked frantically at the determined chasers following closely behind her. Dressed in a simple blue T-shirt, she had hoped it would help her blend in and go unnoticed in the busy scientific city.

Grumbling about fate, the mysterious woman skillfully removed a simple old notebook from the pocket of her tight denim jeans. Using quick movements with her pen, she quickly sketched a battle axe. In a surprising turn of events, the weapon appeared right in front of her, as if it had been conjured out of thin air. Now with a weapon in hand, she turned quickly and used the force of her spin to throw the axe at her persistent chasers with unwavering resolve.

"Oi! Imagine breaker!"

"On it!"

She witnessed something unbelievable happening right in front of her. In the midst of those chasing her non-stop, there was a regular-looking boy with spiky hair who seemed to defy all logic.

As his right arm extended, the sound of breaking glass filled the air like a beautiful symphony, and the battle axe disappeared suddenly. Just as she had anticipated, the axe proved to be completely ineffective. The companion, a large youth dressed in intimidating black priestly attire, quickly launched a counteroffensive. A ball of fire appeared as he extended his hand, swiftly moving towards her in a threatening manner.

The mysterious woman clicked her tongue impatiently as she hurriedly made her escape, running towards the staircase that led to the rooftops. She skillfully dodged the fiery projectiles, bounding up the stairs at a rapid pace. After making sure she was a safe distance away, she focused on her reliable notebook, her pencil flying across the pages. As she sketched, her creative mind brought to life massive wolves that were as big as humans. Their crimson-flecked fur bristled with menace, much to the chagrin of the red-haired priest.

Without pausing for even a second, the wolf-like figures leaped forward, their intense determination evident in their fierce expressions, with the clear intention of tearing apart their enemies. The two boys jumped backwards to stay away from the approaching wolves, now cautious of the danger. The female sorceress couldn't hide her amusement as she watched their reaction. With her latest creation prepared and set in motion, she continued her relentless ascent, finally breaching the threshold of the rooftop.

She stood under the autumn breeze feeling its gentle touch on her chestnut bangs. Below, the city lights shone brightly like twinkling stars, creating a captivating and beautiful scene. However, she hadn't arrived to appreciate the beauty of the city. Her intention was obvious - to regain what belonged to her. The way to achieve her goal seemed straightforward, at least in her mind.

Her moment of deep thought was abruptly interrupted by a sudden punch that struck her right cheek. Surprised and unprepared, she lost her balance and fell back, hitting the hard ground with a loud thud. She couldn't help but curse under her breath as she instinctively tried to soothe the impending bruise.

"Did your parents never teach you not to strike a lady, you bastard!?" she snapped at the spiky-haired boy responsible for the surprise attack. The young man, catching his breath as he knelt, remained silent for a moment.

"Shut up... Do you have any idea how long we've been playing this futile cat-and-mouse game?" he finally retorted. "This Kamijou-san has more pressing matters to attend to!"

"If you'd just minded your own damn business, you wouldn't be in this mess!" she retorted, her voice dripping with venom. Ignoring the bitterness in her words, Kamijou steeled his resolve.

"As much as I'd rather not be involved, I can't let you have your way. What you're doing isn't right, Rachel-san."

The enigmatic brunette known as Rachel rose to her feet, her gaze sharpening as she locked eyes with Kamijou.

Her cheek still throbbed with a persistent ache, a vivid reminder of the audacious strike that had caught her off guard. Who did this guy think he was? Some kind of wannabe hero?

"What I do has nothing to do with you!" she protested.

"And neither are the innocent lives you're about to sacrifice!" Kamijou interrupted as he moved forward, his fists tightly clenched, his face displaying a serious expression..

"That's right! This Kamijou-san has nothing to do with it. But what about some girl striving to pass her mock test or a boy eagerly anticipating an afternoon with friends at the arcade? How are they involved?" he implored.

Rachel briefly became quiet as she pondered the young man's questions that bounced around her mind like stray echoes. Though doubt started to creep in, she quickly pushed it away. The course she followed was undeniably correct; it was the sole option available. Everything she undertook was in pursuit of a larger cause, even if it necessitated sacrifices in the form of ending lives to accomplish her objective. Ultimately, all magicians had one common characteristic:

selfishness.

Magicians emerged as a result of people's intense longing to have something extraordinary that others couldn't reach, stemming from the envy of those gifted with special abilities. Raising her head defiantly, her notebook poised for action, she assumed a battle stance. "Whether they are involved or not doesn't matter, boy. What matters is that I get what I want."

In the ensuing silence, only the gentle caress of the breeze, tousling their hair, punctuated the standoff. Both parties tacitly offered the other a chance to retreat, yet neither yielded. Rachel initiated the confrontation, her pencil dancing across the pages of her notebook. Countless ethereal lances materialized above her, hurtling toward Kamijou with breathtaking speed. Kamijou swiftly dodged to the side, intercepting the oncoming javelins with his right hand with precision as if he knew exactly where they would strike.

Rachel wasn't finished yet. As she completed her new drawings, a thick mist enveloped Kamijou, shrouding him in an opaque cloud that obscured his vision. Keeping his head cool, Kamijou swung his right arm, dispersing a portion of the fog.

Within the dissipating mist, a concealed javelin hurtled toward Kamijou's head, prompting his face to drain of color. In a frantic blur, he staggered backward, narrowly shattering the lance with Imagine Breaker, providing him enough protection. a sigh of relief escaped his lips as he again slipped past death.

However, this fleeting moment of respite was abruptly shattered as a barrage of sharp objects, ranging from swords to daggers, materialized and flew toward him. Desperation guiding his movements, the hapless boy leaped to the side, colliding with the railing in his attempt to evade the deadly onslaught.

Kamijou's body tensed, his eyes darting down to the cars passing far below them. Each vehicle seemed like a precarious lifeline, a reminder that one wrong step could send him plummeting from this dizzying height. With each heartbeat, he felt the urgency of focusing on the situation.

Rachel, on the other hand, remained engrossed in her sketchbook, her hands moving with deliberate precision. Her intent was evident in the way her brow furrowed and her fingers danced across the pages. The wolves she drew earlier had reappeared, their menacing presence once again a threat. They launched an assault from his left, prompting a frustrated click of his tongue.

A soft curse escaped Kamijou's lips as he grappled with the pressing challenge before him. The notebook Rachel wielded had a significant problem. He remembered what Stiyl had shared with him—the sketchbook was meant to be securely locked away within the city of Florence, Italy. Till a supposed tourist broke inside and stole the sketchbook.

It was a prized possession of the renowned painter and, surprisingly, alchemist, Leonardo da Vinci. This seemingly innocuous book possessed the extraordinary ability to bring to life anything drawn within its pages, a power that now posed a grave threat. Kamijou's furrowed brow and tight jaw conveyed the weight of the situation, it wasn't on the same level as the case with the deep blood incident. For that Kamijou was grateful. Still, the unease was evident in his cautious movements and vigilant posture.

Kamijou's swift reflexes allowed him to shatter one of the ferocious wolves, the fragments of its existence dissipating into the air. A brief sense of relief washed over Kamijou as he realized that all of the female magician's creations fell under the category of supernatural. However, this fleeting calm was abruptly shattered as the second wolf pounced upon him from behind.

Its teeth sank into Kamijou's shoulder, sharp fangs tearing through the fabric of his clothing and shredding the boy's skin. Touma couldn't suppress a sharp yelp of pain, his face contorting in grimace as he grappled with the relentless attacker. Desperation fueled his next action as he slammed his fist onto the wolf's nose, invoking his Imagine Breaker to erase the creature from reality.

As the wolf vanished, leaving behind only the faintest echoes of its existence, a warm trickle of liquid ran down Kamijou's arm. The grimace etched onto his face spoke volumes. The wound, while not life-threatening, stung fiercely, and he clenched his jaw in pain.

Rachel's determination remained unwavering. With a swift motion, she drew an ethereal sword that solidified into a tangible weapon, its blade gleaming with an ominous intent. Kamijou's throat tightened, his fear palpable as the brunette swung her blade diagonally to the left.

With no means of blocking, he hurriedly retreated, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the impending strike. A thin trail of crimson marked his chin—a shallow wound inflicted by the sword's initial pass. He knew he had to seize an opportunity.

Gathering his resolve, Kamijou made his move, executing a horizontal hook with his clenched right fist. The blade disintegrated into a cascade of minuscule particles, shattered by the sheer force of Kamijou's punch. Realization dawned on Rachel, but it was too late. Imagine Breaker had already imprinted itself onto her face, a painful intrusion that almost broke her nose in the process. With an abrupt thud, Rachel fell once more, her notebook dropping just beyond arm's reach.

The brief, intense battle had concluded decisively in Kamijou's favor. Rachel had never truly been a combatant, a fact she begrudgingly acknowledged. Her scowl deepened as she spat out a mixture of blood and saliva, locking her gaze onto Kamijou. Wiping away the trickle of crimson from his face, Kamijou couldn't contain his curiosity any longer.

"Why are you even doing this?" he questioned earnestly.

"Like I said, it doesn't matter, boy…"

The boy frowned in response, exhaling a weary sigh. "Look," he continued, "from where I stand, you don't seem like a bad person."

Rachel couldn't help but scoff at his words. What was he thinking? Had he forgotten the perilous course of action she had been on? She allowed a faint smirk to cross her lips, her amusement tinged with cynicism. "Oh, my? What makes you think I'm not a bad person? If you weren't standing in my way, I might have taken a few lives."

"And that's exactly where you went wrong," Kamijou retorted, prompting a frown from Rachel. What did he mean by 'went wrong'? If Imagine Breaker hadn't interfered, she could have reclaimed what she had lost. Her gaze shifted upward, a contemplative look in her eyes.

Kamijou's gaze followed the direction of Rachel's contemplative stare. The night sky loomed above, shrouded in an enigmatic veil of clouds, concealing the celestial luminance. Oddly, Rachel felt an unexpected surge of relaxation wash over her, her muscles loosening their tension, and her heartbeat finding a tranquil cadence. It was almost absurd how calm she suddenly felt.

"When we were chasing you, remember?" Kamijou's voice broke the silence, prompting Rachel to arch an eyebrow.

"So?"

"You saved me when I almost plummeted from a seven-story building," he recounted, a wry smile creeping onto his face. Rachel recalled the incident vividly, where the spiky-haired boy had clumsily tripped over an invisible obstacle. She hasn't the slightest idea on how it happened.

"O-oi, stop smirking down there! Are you making fun of me!?" Kamijou protested, his cheeks flushing a subtle shade of pink. Rachel's smirk blossomed into hearty laughter.

"Sorry, I couldn't help but think about how utterly dumb you are. If you were more cautious, it wouldn't have happened, you idiot," she teased, her tone lighthearted. Kamijou's blush deepened, and he averted his gaze, mumbling something under his breath.

Rachel strained to make out his words but caught only one:

"Onee-chan."

Ignoring Kamijou's mumbled comment, Rachel continued to gaze at the drifting, shadowed clouds. She heaved a sigh, her modest chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. Her eyelids grew heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion of her recent ordeal.

"You look like crap," Kamijou remarked suddenly, breaking the tranquility of the moment.

Rachel sighed deeply, her ragged breaths echoing the intensity of their encounter. She paused, her gaze shifting from the night sky to Kamijou's flushed face, sweat glistening on her skin. "That's all because you two. Look at me," she said, her voice taking on a seducing tone, "all sweaty and ragged. I can hold my own in a scuffle, but I'm far from an athlete. Taking on two boys is no easy task." She admitted with a hint of self-deprecation, revealing her facade of vulnerability as insincere.

Kamijou's cheeks, once tinged with embarrassment, now flared a vivid, tomato-red hue. He stammered in response, his voice laden with awkwardness, protesting, "W-woah! Add some context! You make it sound like we're the ones doing something wrong!" His embarrassment radiated through his words, making the awkwardness of the moment palpable.

Rachel couldn't help but roll her eyes at Kamijou's reaction, a nonverbal acknowledgment of the universal truth that boys had a tendency to blush over the slightest provocation. Her eye roll was a silent commentary on the comical predictability of his response.

Turning her attention to the sketchbook, Rachel's demeanor shifted once more. Her brows furrowed, and her expression grew somber, her focus shifting to the pages before her. "So, do you want to know why I'm doing this?" she inquired, her words and the way she peered at Kamijou captivating his attention. Her sketchbook, the enigmatic object that had played a pivotal role in their confrontation, was now at the center of her focus.

Kamijou, wary and observant, watched her as she rifled through the sketchbook. He couldn't ignore the lingering suspicion that swirled in the air. His desire to avoid another confrontation was evident in the way he maintained a cautious distance, wary of the potential consequences.

Rachel's voice, measured and contemplative, cut through the charged atmosphere. "Tell me, Imagine Breaker," she began, her attention never wavering from her sketchbook, "would a sin be justified if it were driven by a reason? No matter how selfish, twisted, or cruel that wish might be… If it meant sacrificing ten strangers to save the one person you hold closest to your heart, someone you truly comprehend. Is it wrong to act on such deeply rooted, selfish desires?" Her words hung in the air, her eyes seeking answers within Kamijou.

"Of course not!"

Kamijou's instant reply, delivered with unwavering conviction, echoed through the space between them. His voice, infused with unwavering determination, spoke volumes about his principles.

Rachel's raised eyebrow, coupled with the tension in the air, expressed her intrigue and perhaps a hint of disbelief. It was as if her quizzical gaze was searching for deeper meaning in Kamijou's unequivocal response.

"What?" Kamijou retorted, folding his arms and puffing his chest. "You heard me! Of course, there is nothing inherently wrong with embracing one's selfish desires. You have every right to act in your own best interests. But, from where I stand, it's evident that you're not content. I won't pretend to understand your past or your motivations, nor will I offer you empty sympathy."

The resolute glint in Kamijou's eyes spoke volumes about his unwavering determination, and the subtle tightening of his fist conveyed the seriousness of his resolve. His gaze, unwavering and intense, was a window into his steadfast commitment.

"What I will do," Kamijou asserted firmly, his voice carrying a resolute tone, "is prevent you from pursuing a path that you seem hesitant to walk on!" His words were a declaration of his intent, spoken with unwavering conviction.

As Kamijou made his stance clear, Rachel, her eyes locked onto his, instinctively took a step back. A subtle shiver rippled down her spine, the physical manifestation of an internal conflict she wrestled with. Her own actions raised questions within her, and the uncertainty hung in the air like an unresolved puzzle.

The words hung in the space between them, a silent challenge to her choices and the course she had embarked upon. Did she genuinely desire to stop her journey, to forsake the path she had willingly trodden? Did she really want nothing more than to call it quits? The unspoken dilemma lingered, begging for resolution.

"Y-you're lying… YOU'RE LYING!" Her voice wavered with a hint of desperation, as if she were trying to convince herself as much as Kamijou. an ongoing debate within her heart soared through her. The choice she made was for her brother. Rachel knew he would never approve of her actions, but there was no alternative. No. She had no other alternative if it meant that the very person she swore to protect was dying. "I chose this path…. What the other's say doesn't matter!"

"Then why are you still running?" Kamijou countered. Silence once again ruled the two of them. Her chocolate eyes were hidden under her bangs refusing to even hear a single word the boy had to say.

"...Shut up…"

"And don't feed me that nonsense about needing a specific target. There are 8 billion people on this planet. So, why Academy City?"

"...I said shut up!"

"Why here, when you could have chosen anyone from around the world?"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

"The answer is simple. The idea of taking someone's life in cold blood disgust you."

"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Rachel roared. Her body trembled.

Rachel couldn't bear to hear any more. Kamijou's words pierced her like daggers, and she knew she had to escape before the witch hunter's presence loomed. Trembling hands traced the intricate lines of a magic circle on the paper before her. The urgency in her movements was palpable. She needed to calm down. She took a deep breath, calming her shaking hands in the process.

"...What an intriguing perspective, Imagine Breaker," Rachel said, voice tinged with regret. She hesitated for a moment, as if debating what to do next. As if compelled by some unseen force, she continued with her words. "Unfortunately, I... I can't stop now." There was a slight tremor in her voice, as if she was struggling to find the strength to continue despite her reservations.

"Then I'll just have to shatter that illusion!" Kamijou said sternly, eyes locked on the female magician. She worked swiftly and with precision, desperate to finish her sketch before he could interfere. With a quick lunge, Kamijou's fingers brushed the sketchbook's surface, just as the female magician was in the midst of completing the drawing. A blazing, ethereal light engulfed them both, sending Kamijou's consciousness reeling. The world around him was a blur, and his vision turned to a dark void before he finally lost consciousness.

A subtle frown etched its way onto the old man's face, creasing the skin around his gentle, wise eyes that peered through rectangular glasses. Those eyes, once serene, now bore a glint of suspicion, casting a shadow over their usual warmth. It was as if a spark of doubt had ignited within him, making the wrinkles on his face deepen as he tried to make sense of something that had vanished as soon as it was noticed. He absently stroked his snowy beard, lost in contemplation, uncertain whether what he had sensed was a mere product of his imagination.

Throughout his long existence, there hadn't been the slightest disruption in the balance he had been entrusted to uphold. That is, until now. A soft knock roused him from his reverie, and he tore his thoughts away from the enigma that had momentarily troubled him.

A gentle knock was heard.

With a gentle tone, the man of old age granted permission, saying, "You may come in." With his words, reality itself seemed to bend, the door swinging open despite the absence of a physical entrance. In stepped an elderly woman draped in a kimono that transitioned from pristine white to deep purple, flowing from top to bottom.

"Aah, Tokie. How are you?" the elderly man inquired, his gentle smile never fading from his face. Tokie returned the smile, well aware of the man's reputation as the world god, or even God Almighty. His kindness and compassion were renowned, but at this moment, positivity was not at the forefront of their thoughts.

"I thank you very much for the hospitality, Shinnosuke," Tokie began, her voice carrying both gratitude and underlying concern. Her presence in the world god's chamber was marked by a sense of formality and respect. "My well-being is generally good, but there appears to be an issue..." As she spoke, the world god's visage darkened, a subtle shroud of unease settling over his features. The weight of their shared apprehension hung heavy in the room. "So it seems I wasn't the only one who felt a strange phenomenon…"

"The pantheon began feeling… quite disturbed after the sudden wave," Tokie continued, her expression growing increasingly solemn. The gravity of the situation weighed upon them, and their collective unease deepened with each passing moment.

If this peculiar sensation had touched every member of the pantheon, it signaled a matter of unparalleled seriousness. Shinnosuke's thoughts raced as he considered their next course of action, determination and resolve driving his voice. "Gather every member of the pantheon who is available," he instructed firmly, the urgency palpable in his tone. "Tell them to come to the sanctuary as soon as possible. We must convene and delve deeper into this matter." With his command issued, Shinnosuke entrusted Tokie with the pivotal task.

Tokie nodded in acknowledgment and, with a respectful bow, left the world god's chamber. As she departed, she understood that it would create some time to relay the message to all the pantheon members. This brief delay provided the elderly god with the chance to investigate the issue more comprehensively.

With a mere wave of his finger, numerous virtual windows materialized around the world god. To an outsider, these pop-up displays might appear overwhelming, akin to the incessant barrage of digital advertisements. Yet, for the world god, these 'windows' served a far more profound purpose—one that held the key to unraveling the enigmatic disturbance that had shaken their realm to its core..

With keen eyes, the world god scrutinized each and every window that displayed a fragment of the universe. Stars, planets, black holes, supernovas—all of it laid bare before the gaze of divinity. Yet, amidst this cosmic tapestry, nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. There were no misplaced solar systems, no traces of powerful magic spells, not even a hint of someone attempting high-level necromancy. The souls inhabiting the celestial Kingdom seemed to be behaving entirely within the bounds of normality.

"The celestial order remains undisturbed," the world god mused, his voice carrying a note of puzzlement. "What could have triggered such a sensation?"

As doubt crept into his heart, he let out a deep sigh and reached for his wooden cane, a symbol of his age and wisdom. With measured steps, he left his chamber and made his way toward the sanctuary, the massive door standing sentinel.

As he approached the ornate entrance, he pushed it open, revealing the grand hall within. The room was adorned with decorative walls etched with hieroglyphics and intricate drawings of star constellations. However, the most prominent feature of the room was the arrangement of fifteen seats encircling a colossal table. It was here, amidst this divine council, that the gods would convene to deliberate on matters of the cosmos.

Six pairs of eyes followed the world god's progress as he made his way toward his designated seat. His seat stood apart, slightly elevated above the others, a physical manifestation of his highest rank among them. With each glance at it, the elderly man couldn't conceal the faint furrow of his brow, a subtle expression of his discontent with this arrangement. Despite grasping the concept of the seat's significance, he found little joy in being treated as a deity—an irony he couldn't help but acknowledge.

Having finally settled into his seat, the world god turned his gaze to those who comprised the Pantheon. Fifteen imposing thrones encircled the table, but only six were currently occupied. The eyes of the assembled gods bore questions, their expressions expectant, awaiting the elderly god's words.

Clearing his throat with a soft cough, the world god addressed his divine council. "First and foremost, I express my gratitude to all of you for responding to this abrupt summons." His gaze included a small, appreciative nod in Tokie's direction, a silent acknowledgment of her efforts..

"Before I explain the reason," Shinnosuke began, his voice carrying a tone of anticipation, "allow me to ask each of you a question. Did any of you notice something... out of the ordinary?" His inquiry hung in the air, a palpable curiosity settling upon the Pantheon as they pondered whether any unusual occurrences had crossed their divine senses.

A thoughtful silence enveloped the assembly, every deity deep in contemplation, searching their immortal memories for any signs of abnormality.

"I did feel a strange sensation this morning."

All eyes turned to the young woman who spoke. She possessed shoulder-length hair of purplish silver, adorned in a formal brown waistcoat. A magnificent white cape graced her shoulders, harmonizing with her porcelain skin. Her golden eyes meticulously inspected a beautifully crafted dagger, searching for even the slightest imperfection.

With a graceful motion, she swirled the dagger in her fingers before returning it to its sheath. The young goddess, renowned as the deity of swords, continued her explanation, her expression shifting to one of unease. "It happened this morning. I was in the midst of sharpening this dagger when an unexpected chill ran down my spine." She frowned at the memory, her thoughts clouded by the peculiar sensation. "I brushed it off at the time, but for some reason, I can't seem to forget it."

"Oh my… Could this be love at first sight!" the goddess of swords quirked an eyebrow at the whimsical remark. The source of the comment was another young woman in her twenties, dressed in a white toga adorned with golden edges. She playfully fiddled with her fluffy, salmon-colored hair, which cascaded down to her waist, wearing a smirk that was just as playful. "The sensation of chills when a loved one touches your delicate skin. The shudder that leaves an indelible mark!" The pink-haired deity pulled herself into a tight embrace, causing the rings on her arms to jingle with the sudden movement. The other deities collectively sighed in response to the love goddess's theatrical antics.

"Shouldn't *hic* love at first sight be... I don't know, more pleasant? *Hic*" the goddess of alcohol interjected, her voice somewhat slurred from her inebriation. She held a bottle of Sake, which she raised precariously in the air, emphasizing her point with an unsteady gesture. Her words were punctuated by the occasional hiccup, a testament to her indulgence in the potent beverage.

"If you were older, you would understand," the goddess of love retorted with a touch of dryness, her words infused with gentle mockery. She couldn't help but react to the inebriated deity's comment with an air of sophistication. Leaning subtly away from her companion, she seemed to convey her aversion to the overpowering aroma of alcohol that enveloped around the drunk goddess.

The goddess of alcohol, undeterred by the critique, defiantly lifted her bottle of Sake once more and took another swig. Her lips curled into a tipsy smile as she raised an eyebrow, her blue hair cascading in a tangled mess around her. It was as if her tousled locks mirrored the delightful chaos of her inebriated state.

"And keep that bottle of Sake away from me! You stink!" the goddess of love remarked with a hint of dismay, her delicate sensibilities affronted by the scent of alcohol that clung to her companion.

The young girl huffed, her breath carrying a faint scent of alcohol, as she raised the bottle of sake to her lips and took another hearty gulp. "First of all, we're the same age," she declared, her voice tinged with a playful insistence. Her words conveyed a sense of humor, as if age were a mere triviality among immortal beings. She punctuated her argument with a carefree shrug, suggesting that such details were of little consequence.

A mischievous gleam danced in her eyes as she continued, "Second, NONSENSE! A bottle of sake is an absolute delight!" Her proclamation brimmed with unapologetic enthusiasm, as if she reveled in every sip. It was as though her unruly locks mirrored the spirited chaos that had taken hold of her.

"It's not," the sword goddess calmly countered

The intoxicated girl gave a slight pout, her lips downturned in a slightly exaggerated expression of disappointment. "*hic* You guys have no idea what you're missing," she slurred, her words carrying an air of wistfulness as if she possessed some secret delight that remained undiscovered by her sober companions. Another gulp from her jug marked the end of her proclamation, but the ensuing action was far less graceful. Her head met the table with an audible thud, her tipsy coordination failing her momentarily.

"..."

"..."

"..."

A man in his mid-thirties shook his head, emitting a heavy sigh. "She's down for the count, isn't she?"

"I'm afraid so," the god of agriculture replied. "How many bottles did she down this morning?"

"Probably around 600 or more," he responded. "For a goddess of her size, she handles alcohol very well."

"Expected nothing less from the goddesses of alcohol..."

A loud cough suddenly erupted, sharply capturing everyone's attention. It was a deliberate cough, from the world god. "Although I do appreciate everyone's casual demeanor, now is not the time," Shinnosuke noted. "Now, Tokie-san, could you please explain what happened?"

The elderly woman gave a subtle nod and gently tapped the table. In response, a screen flickered to life, displaying an image of the universe. Confused expressions formed on everyone's faces, depicted by raised eyebrows and furrowed brows. "As the world god had requested," she began, "the pantheon was called here to discuss the unnatural phenomenon that occurred. Besides that, I conducted my own investigation."

All eyes turned back to the table-screen, scrutinizing its display. It appeared utterly ordinary, just as the world god had meticulously examined it. Nothing seemed amiss.

"Seems alright to me," the goddess of love remarked with a nonchalant tone.

"Be quiet, Pinky. Can't you see it?" the god of combat jabbed.

The love goddess squinted, perplexed by the tension in the room. What was it that everyone found so concerning? Admittedly, even she had sensed something awry earlier that morning, but she dismissed it as a mere anomaly. After all, her expertise lay more in matters of human emotions rather than quantum physics or the intricacies of space and time. She had no intention of admitting her limitations to the hulking deity across from her.

"!"

Her eyes widened as she witnessed the peculiar phenomenon unfold before her. She leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper as she expressed her bewilderment, "What in the name of Asgard was that?" It was an occurrence that left them all mystified, defying any rational explanation.

The universe didn't unravel or tear apart in the conventional sense. Instead, it seemed to falter, as if caught in a glitch – much like a video game when you attempted to input a cheat code or inadvertently triggered a sequence of incorrect commands. From her limited understanding, she knew that the universe could succumb to various catastrophic fates: collapse, fragmentation, or disintegration. Yet, this notion of a glitch was entirely foreign to her, a perplexing anomaly that challenged the very foundations of their divine knowledge.

"That… Doesn't look good," the god of agriculture remarked, his brows furrowing as he scrutinized the perplexing phenomenon before them. His words carried an undercurrent of concern that was mirrored in the deep lines etched onto his face.

"Indeed it doesn't," the world god concurred, his own expression marred by a growing frown. He couldn't help but ponder why he hadn't detected this anomaly sooner. Tears in the fabric of the universe or the appearance of wormholes were usually conspicuous and impossible to overlook. Yet, this enigma fell into neither of those categories. The universe remained stable, despite the unsettling glitch that had affected it. It was a conundrum that left him deeply troubled.

"Have you found the cause, Tokie?" the world god inquired, turning to the goddess for any insights she might have gathered.

Tokie, with a thoughtful expression, slowly shook her head. "Not yet. The closest clue I've found is that space distorted simultaneously with the world glitching." Her voice held a note of uncertainty, as if she were grappling with the complexity of the situation, her words failing to provide a definitive answer to the looming mystery.

"It was somewhere near a town called Reflet," Tokie relayed, her words carrying an undertone of urgency and concern. Her gaze remained fixed on the puzzling event they had just witnessed, a reflection of the gravity of the situation. "Meaning that something or someone had the chance while we were all distracted."

The goddess of swords, her demeanor focused and determined, chimed in with a practical suggestion. "Then our closest bet is near the area of Reflet." Her fingers deftly toyed with her daggers once more, as if the blades were extensions of her thoughts.

"Then leave it to me!" The goddess of love rose from her seat with an air of confidence, her voice brimming with enthusiasm as she volunteered for the task at hand. She stood up straight and showcased her petite stature as if it were an advantage, her demeanor radiating determination. "If it's something that breathes, I can find it within a jiffy."

Pausing the blades that danced expertly around her fingers, the sword goddess regarded her pink-haired counterpart with a curious tilt of her head. Her expression conveyed both intrigue and skepticism as she sought to understand the love goddess's intended approach. "What are you going to do? Ask the mortals for directions?"

The goddess of love responded with a click of her tongue, her tone laced with a hint of mocking amusement aimed at the sword goddess's apparent lack of insight. "I'm the goddess of love, remember. And love is an emotional feeling, no matter how minuscule it may be. Everyone possesses it. So, to put it simply, all I have to do is scan the area for emotions related to this problem." Her explanation revealed her unique connection to the realm of emotions, providing a glimpse into her divine abilities.

"With that, we could immediately discern if it's a threat or not," the goddess of love stated with an air of self-assuredness, her explanation laced with a palpable sense of pride as she outlined her plan. She couldn't help but exude a certain smugness as she shared her strategy with her neighboring deity.

The purplish-silver-haired woman, however, remained unfazed by her companion's confidence, her expression betraying neither interest nor annoyance. She calmly posed a straightforward question, her tone carrying a hint of curiosity. "Why didn't you do that sooner?" Her inquiry was marked by a quiet, contemplative demeanor that contrasted with the love goddess's enthusiasm.

"..."

"We could have been done with this situation if-"

"We're still talking about universal scale right?"

"?"

"... Forget I asked. Tokie, Zoom into the kingdom of Belfast near the town of Reflet!"

The elderly woman, the embodiment of Space-time, released a heavy, world-weary sigh, her patience tested by the perceived lack of respect from the younger deities. Despite her exasperation, she complied with the love goddess's request, manipulating the screen to zoom in on a town called Reflet. With unwavering focus, the love goddess diligently scanned the lives of every living being within the vicinity, her eyes darting across the screen in search of any unusual emotions.

As she observed, a smile graced her lips, initially reflecting satisfaction in her task. However, that smile gradually twisted into a grimace, revealing a shift in her emotions. Sensing her discomfort, Tokie, the goddess of Space-time, inquired with genuine concern, "Something the matter?"

The love goddess hesitated for a moment, then replied, her voice carrying a note of uncertainty. "Well… everything seemed to be alright… could it be that you imagined things, Tokie?" Her words hinted at a lingering doubt, suggesting that perhaps the anomaly they had sensed was a mere illusion or misunderstanding.

"Are you implying that an elderly lady like me suffers from delusions?"

"You are one of the oldest, sooo…Ouch! Sowwy! Sowwy! Sowwy! Please don't! My cheeeeeks!"

The elderly woman let out an exasperated huff and released her grip, her expression betraying her mild annoyance. She couldn't help but lament the apparent lack of respect displayed by the younger deities in her company. It seemed that, in her eyes, the values of reverence and deference were fading. The love goddess, still rubbing her cheeks to ease the discomfort from the cheek-pinching episode, resumed her explanation with a composed tone. "Like I said… there were no emotions indicating any to be negative," she reiterated, emphasizing her point as she shared her observations. Her gaze shifted to the mortals of the lower world, her golden eyes scanning their emotional landscapes. "The mortals from the lower world don't seem to sense something strange. If a rift did appear, then feelings of worry would spread around the town like wildfire."

In response to her analysis, the other gods nodded in collective agreement. Their expressions mirrored a sense of relief, and they began to entertain the notion that this peculiar occurrence might indeed be a mere fluke. It was a rational conclusion, one that reassured them that there might be no imminent threat or crisis to contend with.

"You're forgetting something," the sober voice of the goddess of alcohol interjected, her words clear and coherent despite her earlier inebriation. The deities turned their attention to her, curious about what she had to say.

"I thought you guys said she was down for the count!?"

"Don't underestimate me, pinky! 756 bottles of pure sake isn't enough to knock me out! It would take at least 4 times that amount!" the goddess of alcohol proudly declared, her words slightly slurred but determined. She clung to consciousness with a surprising resilience, a testament to her divine tolerance for alcohol

"Why do you sound so proud of being an alcoholic!?" the god of combat inquired, raising an eyebrow in mild disbelief as he observed the tipsy goddess next to him.

"Hahaha! Am the goddess of alcohol of course! I haven't been beaten in a drinking contest ever since!"

The world god's gaze turned distant as he observed the scene unfolding before him. The drunk goddess (or was she sober now?) was in fits of laughter, reveling in her reputation as a heavy drinker. As he watched her, he contemplated whether he should consider imposing a temporary ban on her drinking habits. Perhaps he could invite her for a cup of tea instead. While he doubted she'd fare well without a single drop of sake, he felt compelled to at least make an attempt to encourage her to tone it down.

"Jokes aside, you aren't looking at the full picture pinky." "What are you saying?" She returned back. "Every person in a 5000 km radius has been checked. Are you telling me I missed a person?"

"Pretty much."

"Impossible."

"Don't believe me? Then see for yourself," the drunk goddess said as she tapped the table. The image on the screen zoomed in on a grassy field next to the dirt pathway. Curious eyes watched as a spiky-haired boy lay peacefully asleep under an oak tree.

A whirlwind of emotions swept through the pink-haired goddess, her face gradually taking on the shade of her vibrant hair. How had she missed him? She had been so sure she had sensed all of their emotions... but now something felt off. There was no way she hadn't noticed the young man. Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as she double-checked, struggling to find words to explain the oversight.

"Finally catching on, huh, pinky?"

"B-b-but how!?"

The little girl shrugged her shoulders, equally baffled by how the love goddess had missed him. In fact, she realized that if she hadn't slammed her head on the table, she might have missed the spiky-haired boy completely as well.

"So is this the troublemaker?" The god of agriculture tilted his head, studying the spiky-haired boy closely.

"From the looks of it, yes," the combat god replied, his gaze never leaving the young man. "Just take a look at his clothes. Clearly, he's from the modern era, where technology advanced further than magic, although I got to give it to him. His muscles have developed quite nicely. All the rest he seems like an average teenage boy."

"Do we even know his name?" the goddess of swords questioned, her gaze unwaveringly fixed on the young boy.

The world god shook his head slowly, from side to side. It was an unexpected revelation that left all of them bewildered. According to conventional wisdom, the world god should automatically know the names of both the living and the dead.

"You're telling me that this kid is an anomaly?" the god of agriculture inquired, a note of concern edging into his voice.

"I'm afraid so," the world god replied solemnly. "That's all I can tell you, god of agriculture. Let's observe the boy closely and ascertain his true purpose."

"Aah"

Kamijou awoke.

The bride's radiant light filtered through the oak tree's leaves, casting intricate patterns of shadows upon his face. Kamijou fixed his gaze on the delicate dance of the leaves swaying with the gentle breeze. There was an inexplicable serenity in this sight.

Beneath him, the grass offered a soft cushion, lightly tickling without crossing the threshold into annoyance.

As Kamijou allowed himself to bask in the soothing warmth, he felt his eyelids gradually grow heavier. There was something oddly comforting about the sun's embrace.

Furrowing his brow, he began to sense that something was amiss. Sunlight? That couldn't be right. It was nighttime; the sun should be absent from the sky. It was then that a sudden realization dawned upon him.

Rachel.

Kamijou shot upright with lightning speed, his heart pounding with alarm. "D-don't tell me I've been knocked out!" His words tumbled out in a frantic shout, though he was addressing no one in particular. Could it be that the blast had rendered him unconscious for so long that it was practically the next day? A quick glance at the sun's position confirmed that it was well past morning, sending a shiver down his spine.

An unsettling sensation crawled over his back, as though a bug had taken up residence there. Kamijou realized with a growing sense of dread that he wasn't at home, and he hadn't prepared any breakfast yet. His mouth went dry at the thought of a certain wild, silver-haired nun devouring him alive. He pondered the idea of crafting an excuse, but the real challenge lay in making it sound convincing. Besides, Kamijou had never been skilled at the art of deceit.

Leaning against the tree behind him, he turned his gaze toward the unfolding scenery, while lamenting on his terrible luck.

A vast grass field stretched endlessly toward the horizon, each blade of grass swaying gently in the breeze. A meandering dirt path beckoned from the distance, leading to an unknown destination. To his left, a towering mountain loomed, marred by a conspicuous, gaping hole that defied Kamijou's understanding. He couldn't fathom how it managed to remain standing.

"Where the hell am I?" Kamijou muttered, his voice tinged with bewilderment. The surrounding landscape was utterly foreign, and nothing in sight sparked a glimmer of recognition.

The surroundings were so foreign that they bordered on the alien. One thing was certain: Kamijou was no longer in Academy City. That much was indisputable. However, a more pressing question gnawed at him—was he still in Japan? The geography didn't align with the Land of the Rising Sun, and the weather contradicted the current month. It should be autumn, yet the ambiance screamed of spring.

Kamijou's stomach twisted with unease. The sensation of being in an utterly unknown place sent shivers down his spine. "Hehe…Don't tell me I teleported to the other side of the world?" he forced out a humorless chuckle, though his voice quivered with anxiety. As he spoke, an odd calmness settled over him, gradually slowing his racing heart.

With over a hundred countries in the world, it was becoming increasingly evident that the boy of Misfortune had found himself in a place far removed from his home. Kamijou, his hands tucked into his pockets, brushed against the reassuring presence of his flip phone. Retrieving it, he deftly flipped it open, recognizing that his first order of business should be to contact Index and Othinus and reassure them of his well-being.

However, a lingering reluctance held him back. He hesitated to divulge the perplexing situation to Index and Othinus, despite Othinus's remarkable understanding nature when it came to Kamijou's…well, Kamijou-ness. Still, it didn't mean they wouldn't be concerned about his prolonged absence. The thought brought a small, heartfelt smile to Kamijou's lips, knowing that the people he held dear were looking out for him.

Deep down, Kamijou was aware that he didn't truly deserve such consideration from them. After all, he had demonstrated a level of selfishness by choosing himself over the happiness of the world.

Kamijou tapped in the number for his residence, the rhythmic tones echoing through the eerie stillness. Bringing the phone to his ear, he braced himself for the conversation ahead, mentally sifting through a multitude of potential excuses to justify his actions. The seconds seemed to stretch as he waited, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. Each ring felt like an eternity, emphasizing the deafening silence on the other end of the line.

"..."

Kamijou's brows furrowed in a perplexed expression. "No reception? Strange..." He examined his smartphone, a product of Academy City's advanced technology. The idea of it having no reception seemed improbable. Had he truly ventured so far from home that even the most advanced satellites couldn't locate him?

Kamijou released a heavy sigh, slipping the phone back into his pocket. Doubts clouded his thoughts, and he questioned whether even his GPS maps would function in this unfamiliar place. With few options left, his only recourse was to embark on a quest for civilization.

"Such misfortune."

With only the dirt trail as his uncharted guide, Kamijou forged ahead, his gaze scanning the horizon for any signs of potential help. The notion of seeking aid was riddled with uncertainty in his mind, knowing all too well that he often played the role of the unwitting idiot. The looming language barrier presented a formidable obstacle; he had no way to communicate with anyone he might encounter.

As he trod along, shoulders sagging beneath the weight of his predicament, Kamijou's steps became progressively more leaden. The spiky-haired boy couldn't help but lament the tangled mess he'd found himself in. Regrets coursed through him, particularly regarding his lack of attention during English class. Then again, he considered himself less to blame in this bewildering scenario. If only he had known that people were about to fuck over his ordinary life, perhaps he could have been better prepared.

Pausing for a moment, Kamijou cast a backward glance toward the receding oak tree. It grew smaller with each step he took away from it, a stark contrast to the approaching carriage that steadily made its way toward him.

"!"

"Carriage!" Kamijou's instinctive reaction drove him forward without a moment's hesitation. He vigorously waved his hands, desperately signaling the rider in hopes of getting assistance. The rider, however, wasn't one to make rash decisions. He gradually slowed the carriage, bringing it to a full stop.

As Kamijou approached, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping in. The rider's face bore subtle wrinkles, and a faint frown played across his features. His gaze bore into the approaching boy, scrutinizing him with an intensity that made Kamijou distinctly uncomfortable. The tension in the air spoke volumes, demonstrating the rider's cautious nature without needing explicit words.

"Goodness, what happened to you, young man!?" The Rider exclaimed, genuine concern etching lines on his face.

Kamijou blinked, momentarily unable to answer. "Huh? What about me?"

The Rider's eyes narrowed as he leaned in for a closer look. "Your left shoulder seems like a one-horned wolf had taken a bite out of you," he observed, his words emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "And that shallow cut on your cheek... it looks like you've been through quite the ordeal." The rider's tone conveyed a mix of empathy and curiosity, alluding to the unspoken story behind Kamijou's injuries.

Kamijou had momentarily forgotten about his injuries; the persistent sting was merely background noise amidst his chaotic life. He'd faced far more severe wounds and life-threatening situations, which, in a way, underscored the grim reality he'd grown accustomed to.

"Y-yeah! Uhmm, it's fine…. I'm sorta lost. Can you show me directions to the nearest city?" Kamijou inquired.

The rider raised an eyebrow as he studied Kamijou. "The nearest town to you lies a couple of hours away from the capital of Belfast. You've been walking in that direction."

Kamijou tilted his head sideways, his face reflecting his perplexity. "The kingdom of what now?"

"You heard me," the rider replied calmly. "The town of Reflet is quite near, but if you continue on foot, you won't arrive until near midnight."

Question marks floated around Kamijou's head as he struggled to make sense of the unfamiliar names. "Kingdom of Belfast? Reflet? What kind of names are those? Did I land somewhere in Europe?"

The rider sighed, realizing Kamijou's lack of familiarity with the region. "Surely you must have heard of the kingdom of Belfast before? It's situated between the Regulus Empire and the Refreese Imperium."

More names that Kamijou had never heard of. Empires? Wasn't everything ruled by democracy now? And what the Hell did "Refreese Imperium" imply? Kamijou might have been ignorant about some things, like time zones, but he wasn't gullible enough to buy into this nonsense.

"Sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about," Kamijou retorted, his skepticism apparent. "This all sounds like some crappy names from an isekai light novel."

Now it was the rider's turn to tilt his head in confusion. "Iseka? I have never heard of that word before. Is this some kind of tale or a novel?"

Kamijou sighed in frustration. "Sort of, but I just need to find my way back to Academy City."

"Sorry, but I have never heard of a town called Academy City," the rider replied, his words striking Kamijou like a blow. His heart skipped a beat for a moment.

"What?"

The rider cast a soft glance at Kamijou. "It seems you've taken a blow to the head as well."

"...what do you mean-"

"Why are we not picking up the pace? We're running out of daylight, Mark!"

A new voice resonated from inside the carriage. The rider, Mark, immediately shifted his focus from Touma and offered a hurried apology. "My apologies, Mister Zenfield. A young man asked for directions."

Mister Zerfield leaned out of the carriage window, his black eyes locking onto Kamijou with intrigue. He scrutinized the boy's face and attire before his eyes expanded like dinner plates, and his mouth formed a perfect 'O.' Kamijou sensed an unusual sense of unease behind those deep, coal-colored eyes. He couldn't pinpoint the reason, but something mysterious seemed to lurk within them.

"My! Those are some unique clothes you're wearing. I've never seen anything like that!"

Kamijou blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

"Let me have a closer look at you," Mister Zerfield requested, his interest piqued.

Without waiting for Kamijou's response, the carriage door swung wide open, revealing a man of short stature who appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties. He was adorned in a crisp white shirt, a deep purple vest, and a lavender handkerchief peeking out from his vest pocket.

Adding to his ensemble, Mr. Zerfield sported a knee-length indigo cloak that draped elegantly over his attire. His lower half was clad in black trousers, and his feet adorned with polished brown shoes.

"By the gods… I've never seen a jacket such as this before?"

"Eh? You haven't?"

"Even if it's a bit tattered, it still gives off a high quality!"

"I don't think a poor highschool boy like me screams I'm rich…"

"And the Fiber! What could that be made of?"

"W-well from what I remem- Hey! Since when was I the center of attention! Also can you please stop touching this Kamijou-san!?"

"Does it originate from outside of Belfast?"

"Are you even listening!?"

"How did they add such a nice color to that hood of yours?"

"You're totally ignoring MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"White and purple? Such a nice combination!?"

The man known as Mister Zerfield, as if driven by insatiable curiosity, continued to circle, touch, and closely examine Kamijou. His keen interest in the boy's appearance and attire showed no signs of abating. Kamijou, feeling somewhat very uncomfortable under this intense scrutiny, cast a questioning glance towards the rider for assistance. In response, the rider merely shrugged, maintaining a nonchalant demeanor and offering Kamijou no immediate help.

The merchant came to a halt standing right before Kamijou. The light he radiated from his eyes was too bright for Kamijou's liking. "Boy Sell me your clothes! You won't regret it!"

Time stops as that question lingers in the air. Kamijou gave Mister Zenfield a blank stare. The reality that the merchant held in possession would soon be shattered.

"I refuse."

"Wha- Please reconsider!"

"Reconsider my ass! Selling my clothes!?Are you a pervert or something!? Who in their right mind would ask a stranger to take off and sell their clothes!"

Zenfield recoiled at that statement.

"W-well if you put it that way it does sound a bit strange, Hehe…" giving a light cough, Mister Zerfield restarted his introduction. "My apologies, my name is Zanac Zerfield. It's a pleasure to make acquaintances."

Hey hi! Thank you for reading in another world with my Imagine breaker. Had watched the anime some time ago and it was kinda meh. In another world with my smartphone was mid. I talked with my brother and complained how easy the main character Isekai's life was and questioned myself that even Touma can do all those things… So I wrote this like what? A year ago? Before Gt 8. That's for sure….

But after some time I saw it in the dust and thought why not post it for fun. So here you go folks, a short prologue of Kamijou Touma in the world of magic and Fantasy!

Peace!