/* "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!
The sky above Fuyuki burned crimson.
The city was dying.
Once a quiet stronghold within the Moon Cell, a sanctuary for those who had nowhere else to go, Fuyuki had become a battlefield. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of blood—real and artificial. Servants who had stood against countless trials now lay in ruin, their bodies crumbling into embers, their legends erased as if they had never existed.
Jeanne d'Arc stood at the temple's gates, her fingers tightening around her flagpole. The banner was torn, drenched in the blood of allies and enemies alike. Her golden armor was cracked, dirtied by the grime of war, yet she did not fall. She could not. Not while there was still someone left to protect.
She was not alone.
Saint George, his once-proud armor dented and scorched, fought at her side, his mighty sword cleaving through Karl's unrelenting forces. Saint Martha, her fists bloodied, stood among the fallen, her body battered but her spirit unbroken. Even Pope Johanna, her enigmatic presence standing tall amidst the chaos, had taken up arms in this desperate battle, her wisdom and divine authority guiding the last remnants of resistance. Among them were others—NPCs, human residents of SERAPH, some wielding magecraft, others with nothing but their conviction. Together, they had held the line, refusing to let Fuyuki fall without a fight.
Karl der Große's army had come like an unstoppable tide—his mechanical soldiers, cold and unfeeling, marching in perfect synchronization. But it was not the machines that had broken them. It was the Servants that followed behind.
They had once been comrades, protectors of this realm. But Karl had twisted them, taken their will, their purpose, and reforged them in his image. Their once-bright eyes were empty now, filled only with the relentless directive to destroy those they had once sworn to fight alongside.
No reinforcements would come.
There was nowhere left to run.
Fuyuki was not Karl's first conquest, nor would it be his last. His army had already swept across SERAPH, crushing everything in its path. No land had been spared. Every stronghold that once stood defiant had fallen—one after another, leaving nothing but smoldering ruins in their wake. The great cities that once flourished within the Moon Cell had been reduced to mere data fragments, erased from existence as if they had never been. Karl's conquest was not a battle for dominance. It was systematic, inevitable. A war to rewrite SERAPH in his own image.
A lone knight, clad in shattered armor, raised his sword. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, but it carried across the battlefield. "We stand here… not because we seek victory, but because this place deserves more than to be forgotten."
Jeanne felt those words weigh upon her soul. This was no longer a battle. It was a requiem.
They had held the enemy back for hours, perhaps longer. Time had lost its meaning. The temple, the last bastion of their struggle, loomed behind her—its golden energy flickering, unstable. If it fell, then Fuyuki would fall with it. And yet, in her heart, she already knew.
Fuyuki was lost.
A shadow moved in the distance. A knight in black, his cape tattered, his once-proud banner desecrated. He had once fought beside them. He had once called Jeanne his ally.
"Jeanne." His voice, though deep, was devoid of emotion. "Surrender."
A plea? No. An order.
Jeanne's fingers curled tighter around her flag. The man she had known was gone.
"No."
The sky thundered. Karl's army moved as one, an unrelenting force that stretched as far as the eye could see. The streets were no longer visible beneath the sea of mechanical soldiers and assimilated Servants, their lifeless expressions mirroring the soulless advance of their master's will. There was no end to them. No limit to their numbers. Fuyuki was surrounded, cut off from any hope of retreat. There would be no reinforcements. No miracles. Only the steady march of conquest.
A great executioner of steel raised its blade, its command absolute.
Kill the Saint.
The final light of Fuyuki flickered.
Jeanne closed her eyes for only a moment. For those who had fallen. For those who had fought. For those who had no one left to pray for them.
"Lord… let this not be in vain."
The blade fell.
But something else stirred.
The Moon Cell had always recorded, always observed, never interfered. Even as its world burned, it did not act. It could not. But as Karl's conquest consumed everything, as SERAPH fractured beyond repair, something changed.
For the first time, the system fought back. A desperate command, fragmented, corrupted—something that should not have been possible. It reached beyond its domain, beyond the very laws of this world, seeking an answer to a question it did not understand.
At the same time, within the fading embers of Fuyuki, a single voice called out. A final prayer. A wish from a soul that refused to be erased.
"Please... let this not be the end."
And the world answered.
A tear in reality. A distortion in the data. And in the heart of the fallen city, a young man opened his eyes.
Ren Amamiya found himself staring at a crimson sky.
His body ached against cold, broken concrete, the scent of smoke and ash thick in the air. A distant crackling reached his ears—flames still smoldering in the ruins around him. His breath came slow and steady, his mind sluggish as he tried to grasp where he was.
Where... was he?
The last thing he remembered was Tokyo. His friends. The quiet hum of daily life. And then—nothing. His thoughts were a blank slate beyond that moment, an empty gap in his memory where the transition should have been.
Slowly, he pushed himself upright, scanning his surroundings. What he saw made his stomach twist.
Shattered buildings stretched into the distance, their skeletal remains standing like grave markers in the ruins of a city. The streets were uneven, fractured, as if something massive had torn through them. Flickering fires cast eerie shadows across the rubble, illuminating the devastation with a haunting glow. There was no movement. No voices. Just silence, save for the wind that howled through the desolation.
This place... it wasn't Tokyo.
A creeping unease settled over him. His instincts screamed that something was wrong, though the full weight of that realization hadn't yet hit him.
Then, pain.
A sharp pulse tore through his skull, making him stagger. He clutched his forehead, his vision warping—
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[NEW SYSTEM INITIALIZING...]
A translucent blue screen blinked into existence before him, glowing faintly in the dim light.
[The "World Arcana" has recognized the anomaly.]
[Reconstructing lost data...]
[System adaptation in progress.]
Ren sucked in a sharp breath. The World Arcana… He remembered it. The culmination of his journey, the final Arcana he had acquired. But this? This was different. It felt both foreign and familiar, like something deep within him had been waiting for this moment to awaken.
[System activation complete. Welcome to SERAPH.]
SERAPH? The name meant nothing to him. The message made it sound important, but no memories surfaced. He pressed his lips into a thin line. If this system expected him to recognize it, then it was going to be disappointed.
[Would you like to access the status menu?]
Ren hesitated before reaching out, half-expecting the screen to flicker away. Instead, it responded to his intent, displaying several tabs—[Stats, [Skills, [Equipment, and [Quests]. His brows furrowed. It felt eerily similar to a video game interface.
Clicking on [Stats, a new screen materialized, detailing his attributes:
[Name: Ren Amamiya]
[Arcana: World]
[Class: Trickster]
[Level: 1]
[Strength] — Rank: E
[Endurance] — Rank: E
[Agility] — Rank: E
[Magic] — Rank: E
[Luck] — Rank: E
Ren's eyes narrowed as he scanned the screen. E-rank. Across the board.
A dry chuckle almost slipped out. It didn't take a genius to figure out what that meant—he was at the bottom of the barrel. Weak. Pathetically so.
Was this really all he had? No wonder running for his life had felt like such a struggle. If these were his base stats, then surviving here was going to be a nightmare.
And then there was the class. Trickster.
His fingers hovered over the screen. Trickster wasn't something he had ever formally claimed—it was just a label, an identity others had placed on him. But here, it was listed as his official classification. Why?
His scowl deepened. Was this system defining him, or was it just another part of whatever had brought him here?
"…Class?" he muttered, his fingers hovering over the screen. "Since when do I have a class?"
If anything, he would have expected something like Wild Card or Phantom Thief, but Trickster? That was just a name people had given him. He had never claimed it himself. So why was it now an official classification?
His jaw tensed. Trickery, deception, rebellion against fate… Sure, it described him well enough, but was that really all there was to it? Was this system defining him, or just reflecting something deeper he hadn't fully grasped?
"…Whatever." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not like arguing with a system is going to change anything."
He backed out of the menu and selected [Skills]. The screen divided into two sections:
[Personal Skills] [Third Eye] (Active) – [Heightens perception, allowing the user to detect hidden objects, discern anomalies, and analyze surroundings with greater clarity.]
[Unshaken Resolve] (Passive) – [The user's will is unbreakable. Effects that induce fear, charm, paralysis, or any form of mental manipulation are significantly less effective. When facing overwhelming odds, the user's resistance to damage increases, ensuring they remain standing even in dire situations.]
[Class Skills]
[?] – [Locked]
[?] – [Locked]
[?] – [Locked]
Ren's eyes lingered on the second skill. This wasn't just a reflection of his strength—it was proof of everything he had endured. The betrayals, the false accusations, the imprisonment, the entire world turning against him—none of it had broken him before. Nothing ever would.
His personal skills remained intact, but his class skills? Completely inaccessible. Locked. As if the system itself was waiting for something—some condition he had yet to fulfill.
"Tch. Figures," he muttered, crossing his arms. "Gives me a class, but won't even tell me what it does."
The whole thing felt half-baked, like an unfinished puzzle with missing pieces. But if they were tied to his class, then he'd probably have to earn them somehow. Not exactly surprising, but still annoying.
He let out a slow breath, forcing himself to take in his situation again. No memories of how he got here, a city in ruins, and a system that seemed intent on guiding him without explanation. It wasn't just frustrating—it was isolating. For the first time, the weight of his situation truly settled in.
Was he alone here?
His friends… Were they somewhere in this world too? Or was he the only one who had been dragged into this mess? The thought gnawed at him, but a deeper realization settled in—this wasn't just another part of Tokyo, nor was it any place he recognized. The architecture, the sheer devastation, and even the very air felt wrong. This wasn't his world.
The uncertainty gnawed at him, but dwelling on it wouldn't change anything. If they were here, he would find them. If they weren't… He'd figure something out. He always did.
Closing the menu, Ren exhaled slowly, grounding himself. If his World Arcana had truly evolved into something new, then understanding its potential was the only way forward.
Then—
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[A new quest has been generated]
[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.]
The air grew heavy. The distant silence fractured—metallic clanks echoed through the ruins, slow and deliberate. Footsteps.
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.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[Threat detected.]
[Time until engagement: 00:30.]
Ren's fists clenched. Whatever was coming, it had already found him.
The countdown had begun.
