/* "This story draws inspiration from the 'system' in Solo Leveling while taking place in the Fate/Extella Link universe. The narrative follows the structure of Fate/Grand Order's Singularities as its setting." */
Happy Reading!
Ren stiffened. A faint tremor ran through the rubble beneath him, dust shifting with each step of the unseen force. Whatever was coming… it wasn't small.
A low, mechanical hum vibrated through the air, sending an unnatural chill down Ren's spine. The ruins around him seemed to breathe with the distant echoes of movement—metal scraping against stone, heavy footsteps closing in.
The system's alert flared in his vision, stark against the blood-red sky:
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[Unidentified Hostile Approaching]
Ren exhaled sharply. Not good. He wasn't alone in this graveyard of a city, and whatever was out there had set its sights on him.
The countdown had begun.
The rhythmic clang of metal against stone echoed through the ruins—slow, deliberate. Ren stayed low, scanning his surroundings. His instincts screamed at him—standing out in the open was a mistake.
His eyes flicked to the system notification still lingering in his vision:
[First Main Quest: A World in Ruins]
[Objective: Find a vantage point and assess the situation.]
[Warning: Hostile forces approaching.]
[Reward: Phantom Step (Active) 100 XP 5 Soul Coins.]
He exhaled sharply. A quest system. Directives. Rewards. Like a game.
But why should he trust it?
He had no idea where he was, no understanding of this world. His Arcana—his power—had changed, but he hadn't asked for this system, hadn't agreed to anything. And now it was telling him what to do? What if it was manipulating him? What if following its orders led him into a trap?
Another tremor. Closer.
His hesitation vanished. Now wasn't the time. He needed information, and he needed to survive. The quest objective aligned with both.
His eyes darted across the ruined landscape. There—a crumbling radio tower, its rusted frame leaning but still intact. If he could get up there, he'd have a better view of the area. The higher, the better.
Ren sprinted toward it, feet kicking up dust and shattered stone. Behind him, the metallic footsteps quickened. Not human. Not friendly.
A mechanical whirr cut through the air. Then—
A thunderous crash.
The ground behind him exploded as something massive struck it. The force sent a shockwave through the ruins, dust billowing outward. Ren didn't dare look back—his instincts screamed run.
He vaulted over a fallen streetlamp, boots skidding as he scrambled up a pile of debris. Every movement was precise, controlled. Just like dodging Shadows in the Metaverse. Except there was no mask. No Persona. Just him.
The ruined tower loomed above. Almost there.
Then—
A shadow rushed from below.
Ren barely had time to react before a towering figure burst into view beneath him. A humanoid machine, plated in dark metal, with a single glowing red visor where its eyes should be.
It wasn't just big. It was fast.
Ren's gut twisted. This thing is built to kill.
He threw himself upward, grabbing onto an exposed beam, pulling himself higher—
The Executioner lunged. Too fast.
Ren barely twisted away as its fist tore through concrete like paper, shattering the ledge he had been standing on moments before. Too close.
He climbed faster. The tower groaned beneath him, unstable, but it was his only shot. He pulled himself onto a rusted platform, breath coming fast. From here, he could see the city.
His chest tightened.
The enemy wasn't just patrolling the ruins. They were advancing.
From above, he saw them—an entire battalion of armored constructs marching through the streets in perfect formation. Dozens. No—hundreds. Their metallic bodies glinted under the crimson sky, moving with eerie synchronization. A full-scale army.
Ren's stomach twisted. He wasn't just in enemy territory. He was at the heart of it.
And then—light.
His gaze snapped toward the far end of the city. The temple.
It stood on the horizon, barely visible through the smoke and ruin, but something was happening there. Flashes of gold and white clashed against the endless tide of darkness. Even from this distance, he could see figures fighting—warriors standing against the impossible.
The last stand.
A bitter taste filled his mouth. He didn't know them, didn't know why they were fighting—but he knew what a battle on its last legs looked like. And judging by the sheer number of enemies closing in on him… he was in the middle of their war.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[Quest Objective Completed.]
[100 XP, 5 Soul Coins Earned.]
[Level Up! You have gained 1 Level.]
[Status Updated! You are now Level 2]
[3 Attribute Points Earned. Use them to enhance your stats.]
[Soul Coins: A rare currency granted by the system. Can be used to purchase Cores, equipment, and other enhancements from the system store.]
[New Skill Unlocked: Phantom Step (Active)] [Phantom Step: A high-speed movement skill that allows the user to momentarily break past their normal limits, accelerating in an instant. Can be used for rapid repositioning, dodging attacks, or closing distance in combat. Limited by stamina.]
The moment the notification appeared, something inside him clicked.
A rush of sensation—like something waking up inside his body. A shift in his perception.
But no time to process it. The Executioner was climbing. Faster than he expected.
Ren's heartbeat pounded in his ears. Too high to jump. No weapon. No Persona.
His eyes flicked to the system message. Phantom Step.
The Executioner reached for him.
Ren moved—
—and the world blurred.
For an instant, his body snapped sideways, weightless, moving faster than thought. Then—solid ground.
He landed atop a different beam, breath caught in his throat. A teleport? No—just extreme acceleration.
He staggered but quickly steadied himself. That was Phantom Step.
The Executioner recalibrated. Its red visor locked onto him again.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[New Quest Unlocked: Run Trickster Run!]
[New Objective: Escape the hostile zone and find safe ground.]
[100 XP, 5 Soul Coins.]
Ren's gaze flicked downward. The only way out now—was a leap of faith.
The Executioner lunged—
Then, steel clashed against steel.
A blur of silver shot past him, intercepting the Executioner's strike mid-air. Sparks flew as a shining blade locked against the machine's brutal weapon. A knight, clad in ornate silver armor, stood before him—a confident smirk on his face despite the sheer force behind the enemy's attack.
"Yo, you look like you could use a hand!" the swordsman called, his voice lighthearted despite the danger.
Ren barely had time to process before the knight twisted his sword, breaking the Executioner's stance in a single fluid motion. The machine stumbled back as its systems recalibrated.
The swordsman turned to Ren with an easy grin. "Name's Charlemagne! And you—" He pointed his sword at Ren in a grand flourish. "Are about to owe me big time."
Ren didn't get a chance to respond before Charlemagne lunged back into action, his blade glowing with energy as he slashed across the Executioner's frame. The machine staggered, but it wasn't down yet—its red visor burned brighter, locking onto both of them.
Charlemagne let out a whistle. "Persistent little guy, huh?" He shot Ren a look. "Well? You just gonna stand there, or are we making a dramatic exit?"
Ren exhaled, pushing aside his lingering confusion. No time to hesitate.
"…Yeah. Let's go."
The two sprinted through the ruins, Charlemagne leading the way with effortless grace. Despite his easygoing attitude, every movement he made was precise, like someone who had seen countless battles and danced through all of them.
Behind them, the Executioner let out a mechanical roar, its limbs shifting as it reactivated its pursuit. More shadows stirred in the distance. The enemy forces weren't just stationed here—they were mobilizing.
"Tch, great. They're calling reinforcements," Charlemagne muttered. "Guess I'll have to cut this short."
Ren barely kept up, his breath coming hard and fast. "You say that like this wasn't already bad enough."
Charlemagne grinned. "Don't worry! I've got a getaway plan. Just keep running!"
They darted between crumbling buildings, Charlemagne taking sharp turns as if he knew exactly where to go. Ren could tell—this wasn't random. He was following a path.
"You knew about this place?" Ren asked between breaths.
"Of course! Can't crash a party without planning an escape route."
Ren wasn't sure whether to be relieved or more concerned.
The streets ahead opened up into a massive clearing—one that led straight to the heart of the city. A mistake.
Charlemagne skidded to a stop, his usual grin fading. "Oh. That's… not good."
Ren followed his gaze.
An entire battalion of mechanical knights stood before them, lined up in formation. Their red visors glowed in eerie synchronization, their weapons gleaming under the crimson sky. A full army.
Ren's gut twisted. He wasn't just in enemy territory. He was in the heart of it.
Before either of them could react, the Executioner caught up, landing with a thunderous crash behind them.
They were trapped.
Charlemagne sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Well. Guess we're doing this the hard way."
He turned to Ren, his smirk returning, but his eyes sharper than before.
"Hope you're ready to fight."
Ren swallowed, his mind racing. Fight? Against an army? He had no weapon, no Persona—just himself and the system that had barely begun explaining itself to him.
Before he could even react, Charlemagne moved.
The knight surged forward, a streak of silver and blue as he carved through the enemy line. Sparks and metal fragments flew as his blade cleaved through the first rank of soldiers like paper.
Ren took a step back, breath catching in his throat. He's cutting them down like they're nothing…
But the army wasn't slowing. For every one Charlemagne took down, more closed in.
Ren's heart pounded. What the hell do I do?
The Executioner reared back, its crimson visor locked on him. Ren barely had time to react before it lunged—
The system's alert flashed in his vision. His body moved before he could think.
A flicker of motion, a distortion in space—
He reappeared ten feet away, just as the Executioner's blade crashed into the ground where he had been standing.
It worked.
Ren barely had time to process what had just happened. His breath was uneven, his pulse hammering in his ears. That speed—no, that movement—it wasn't normal. It wasn't just reflex or raw agility. It felt like reality itself had bent for him, pulling him out of harm's way in an instant.
Was this… the Phantom Step? A skill rewarded to him after completing the quest from earlier? A power he just gained?
A mixture of exhilaration and unease twisted in his gut. But then, a sharp fatigue settled into his legs, a weight dragging against his movements. His breath hitched—so, it wasn't unlimited. Whatever this ability was, it drained him. He'd have to be careful using it too much.
Charlemagne's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and unwavering. "Hey! Now's not the time to freeze up, partner!"
Ren clenched his fists, adrenaline surging. No mask. No Persona. But something inside him roared to life—a defiant spark refusing to be extinguished. If the system had given him this power—
Then he'd use it.
He squared his stance, eyes locking onto the enemy before him.
"Fine." His voice was steady. "Let's do this."
Charlemagne's grin widened. "Now that's more like it!"
Together, they charged—not to win, but to break through.
Charlemagne became a storm of steel, his blade carving through the enemy ranks with effortless grace. Every strike was precise, every movement a testament to a warrior who had seen countless battles and emerged victorious. Sparks flew, metal clashed, and in mere moments, several of the mechanical knights lay in ruin. But more kept coming.
"Tch. No end to these guys!" Charlemagne clicked his tongue, parrying an incoming strike. He glanced at Ren. "We're not here to take 'em all down—just need a big enough gap to make our exit!"
Ren didn't need to be told twice. The Executioner's massive frame loomed ahead, blocking one of their escape routes. He grit his teeth. Too strong to fight head-on. But maybe…
His body moved before he could think, driven by something deep, something instinctual. A sudden rush of power coursed through his legs, a sensation both foreign and familiar—a fleeting moment where the world itself seemed to bend around him.
Ren's instincts kicked in. The world around him seemed to slow, each enemy movement etched into his mind. He took a sharp breath—then vanished.
The world blurred—
He reappeared in a flicker of motion, his form a blur as he weaved between the enemies. The ruined pavement cracked beneath his feet as he kicked off, drawing the Executioner's attention with a daring feint. The Executioner's sensors flared in alarm, its crimson gaze snapping toward him like a predator recognizing its true prey.
Good.
It lunged—just as Charlemagne struck from the side, his blade cutting deep into the machine's exposed joint. The Executioner staggered, its strike missing Ren entirely.
"Nice teamwork!" Charlemagne grinned. "Now let's wrap this up!"
Ren landed, chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. The battle raged on, but the tides were shifting—their opening was forming. If they kept this up, they could make their escape.
"Almost there!" Charlemagne shouted over the clash of steel. "Just need one final push—then we're gone!"
Ren's eyes darted around, searching for their best escape route. Then he saw it—a collapsed building to their right, its shattered remains forming a narrow passage that led out of the square. It wasn't perfect, but it was something.
"Charlemagne! That way!" Ren called, pointing toward the gap.
Charlemagne followed his gaze and grinned. "Not bad, partner! Let's make a run for it!"
Without hesitation, Ren sprinted toward the opening, Charlemagne cutting down two more knights before following. The Executioner, still recovering from their coordinated strike, turned sluggishly, its systems lagging from damage. The remaining knights attempted to intercept, but Charlemagne's blade flashed once more, knocking them aside just long enough for them to slip through.
The two of them dashed through the rubble, their surroundings blurring past. The sounds of pursuit roared behind them, but the moment they made it past the collapsed structure, Charlemagne grabbed Ren by the arm and pulled him into a narrow alleyway.
They pressed themselves against the wall, waiting.
Seconds passed. The mechanical footsteps slowed, then halted. The Executioner scanned the area, its red visor sweeping the rubble-strewn passage.
Ren held his breath. Keep moving.
A long, tense moment stretched between them before the machine finally turned away, recalibrating its focus elsewhere.
Charlemagne let out a low chuckle. "Well, that was fun."
Ren exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. "That's one way to describe it."
Charlemagne shot him a grin. "Not bad for our first real escape, huh? But we're not staying here." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Come on, follow me. I've got a place nearby where we can lay low."
Ren hesitated for a moment before nodding. He didn't have any better options, and at the very least, Charlemagne seemed to know what he was doing.
They moved quickly, weaving through backstreets and ruined alleys. Charlemagne led with practiced ease, never second-guessing his path. After several minutes of navigating the war-torn city, they finally arrived at what looked like an old, abandoned chapel tucked away behind layers of debris. The building had seen better days, but it still stood, its heavy wooden doors intact.
Charlemagne pushed them open and gestured for Ren to step inside. "Welcome to my humble hideout. Not exactly a palace, but it does the job."
As soon as the doors shut behind them, Charlemagne's easygoing smirk returned. "Alright, now that we're safe, let's try this again—who are you, and what are you doing in a warzone?"
Ren met his gaze, his mind still spinning from everything that had just happened. Warzone? He barely had time to process that word before realizing—he still had no idea where he really was.
And now, it was time to start getting some answers.