Sōta Mizushino sat at his desk, bathed in the dim glow of his laptop screen. The quiet hum of the summer night filled his small room, punctuated only by the occasional chirp of crickets outside his window. It had been weeks since the chaotic battle that shook reality itself, and he still found himself reflecting on everything that had happened.

Altair, Setsuna, and all the others had returned to their respective worlds. The boundary between fiction and reality had stabilized. Life had returned to normal—or so he thought.

He sighed, stretching his arms over his head before glancing at his phone. A notification blinked—a message from Meteora. She was still in this world, but she had been busy with research and monitoring for anomalies.

"All is calm on my end. How about you?"

Sōta typed out a response. "Same here. Just working on some sketches. Feels kinda lonely without the others."

Before he could hit send, a sound interrupted the night's tranquility. A soft clack—his bedroom window creaked open.

His heart skipped a beat. He turned sharply, expecting the wind or some animal. But what he saw instead made his breath hitch in his throat.

A figure perched on the windowsill, bathed in moonlight. Silky black hair, golden eyes shimmering with amusement, and a smirk that sent a chill down his spine.

Magane Chikujōin.

Sōta froze. His fingers trembled over his phone.

"Hooo?" Magane tilted her head, her smirk widening. "Not even a hello? That's rude, Sōta-kun."

"You… you're supposed to be gone," Sōta whispered, his voice hoarse. He shifted back in his chair, eyes darting toward the door. Could he make it in time?

Magane chuckled, hopping down from the window with catlike grace. "Gone? Poof—just like that?" She twirled a finger in the air. "That's what everyone thought, huh? But nope! I'm still here."

Sōta swallowed. "How? The others returned to their worlds when Altair rewrote the story."

Magane pouted, stepping closer. "You really think I'd follow the script like a good little girl? Tsk, tsk." She waggled her finger. "I found a little loophole."

A pit formed in Sōta's stomach. "Loophole…?"

Magane leaned in, her golden eyes gleaming. "I lied."

A slow grin spread across her face, her voice playful yet dripping with menace. "Altair rewrote the rules, yes. But only for those who believed in them. And I?" She tapped her temple. "I just… decided not to. And poof, here I am."

Sōta clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. Magane was unpredictable, and he had no idea what she wanted.

"What do you want?" he asked carefully.

Magane twirled in a lazy circle before plopping onto his bed, stretching out like a cat. "Now that's the million-dollar question, isn't it?" She grinned, propping her head up with her palm. "I could say I'm here just to mess with you, but that'd be boring."

Sōta narrowed his eyes. "Then?"

Her smirk softened just a fraction. "Truth is… I'm curious. What happens to someone like me in this world?" She held up her hand, examining her fingers. "No powers. No insane battles. Just… a normal life. Sounds kinda fun, don'tcha think?"

Sōta was skeptical. "You expect me to believe you just want to live normally?"

Magane giggled. "Ooooh, you're getting sharper. Maybe hanging around all those warriors and creators rubbed off on you." She winked. "Okay, I might have some other reasons. But you'll have to stick around to find out, won't you?"

Sōta exhaled slowly, keeping his guard up. Magane wasn't the type to act without a plan. If she had stayed behind, there had to be more to it.

Before he could respond, a sudden thud echoed from outside.

Both of them froze.

Magane's grin widened. "Oho? Looks like we're not alone."

Sōta's blood ran cold. If Magane had stayed behind, was it possible… others had too?

A shadow loomed by his door.

And then—

The handle turned.

To be continued...?