[Scene - Celestial Realm - The Waiting Gods]
The Celestial Realm, a dimension of eternal radiance and geometric perfection, was no longer the sanctuary of peace it had been for a millennium.
The golden pillars of Goddess Elmyria's palace were etched with fine, spider-web cracks—the lingering scars of a dark shockwave that had recently rippled through the fabric of existence.
The four Elemental Gods sat upon their respective thrones, but their usual arrogance was replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence.
Ignir, the Fire God, whose mane of flame usually scorched the very air, now sat with his head bowed, his embers flickering a dull, dying orange.
"We cannot intervene," he murmured, his voice a dry rasp. "We felt it. That boy... he didn't just repel our power. He erased the concept of it for a moment. If we interfere again, he won't just kill us; he will unmake the elements themselves."
At the center of the hall, the World Goddess Elmyria stood before a massive divine mirror. Her hair, a cascade of silver and starlight, seemed thinner than before, reflecting her exhausted state. She did not look at her subordinates. Her gaze was fixed on the shifting images within the mirror's surface.
"He is too powerful now," Elmyria whispered, her voice carrying the weight of the Book of Fate. "He has moved beyond... He is a variable that the universe was never meant to hold."
"Wait for what?" Terranis, the Earth God, asked bitterly, his stone-hewn fists clenching the armrests of his throne. "Must we wait until he turns the world of Velgrith into a graveyard of shadows?"
Elmyria touched the mirror, and the image of the dark-haired boy dissolved, replaced by a youth with sharp brown hair and eyes the color of a summer sky.
"We wait for the Summoned One," she said softly. "The balance of this world is binary. Where there is a Shadow that threatens to consume all, the Light must respond. Ryuto... your fate is only just beginning to weave. You are the only one who can match the Darkness Lord, for you carry the weight of the same previous life."
---
[Scene - Demon Empire – Council of Demon Lords]
Thousands of miles away, beyond the human borders of the Ironwood Kingdom, the Great Demon Empire sat nestled within a ring of jagged, obsidian mountains. Within the central palace, a hall of black marble echoed with the low growls of ancient predators.
The Demon Lords of the North, West, and South were gathered. They stood in the presence of the Great Demon Lord, a towering silhouette of horns and crimson eyes that sat upon the central throne. The air in the room was thick with the scent of sulfur and old blood.
"The Eastern Demon Lord, Asmodai, has fallen," the Great Demon Lord roared, his claws scraping deep grooves into the black stone of his throne. "The echo of his death reached the capital. He was not defeated by a hero's blade or a human army. He was extinguished."
"The one who killed him is beyond our scouts," stated the Northern Demon Lord, a figure draped in frost-covered pelts.
"Our mirrors show only black, cursed static when we try to peer into the Eastern Frontier. It is as if the space itself has been deleted."
"He is a threat worse than the Dark Magic God Umbryas," added the Western Demon Lord, her voice sharp and clinical. "We cannot track a ghost that moves through the Abyss."
The Great Demon Lord's eyes narrowed into slits of burning gold. "The balance of the five lords must not collapse. If the humans sense our weakness, they will mobilize. We will install a new Eastern Demon Lord immediately. A puppet. A loyal one who will serve as bait." He leaned forward, the shadows around him deepening.
"And while the world watches the puppet, we will find this Master of Shadows. He must not be allowed to topple the order we have built over the last hundred years."
---
[Scene - Magic Academy – Morning, Kuro's Dorm Room]
Back in the human capital of Valerion, the morning sun was a gentle, deceptive gold. It filtered through the blinds of the Ironwood Royal Magic Academy's dormitory, painting amber stripes across the floor of Room 402.
Kuro slowly opened his eyes. He did not wake with the sudden start of a soldier, but with the slow, methodical awareness of a predator. He felt a familiar warmth and a rhythmic weight resting against his chest. He blinked, his purple eyes adjusting to the light.
"...Rei?"
Curled up on his chest like a small, white cat was a girl with fine, Rei Nocturne was fast asleep, her head resting on his shoulder, her breathing soft and perfectly synchronized with his own pulse. It was a scene of domestic tranquility that should have been impossible for a boy with a cracked heart.
Kuro stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment. His terrestrial mind, trained in Dark Psychology, instinctively analyzed the situation.
Her heart rate is 62 beats per minute. Deep REM sleep. She is vulnerable, trusting. Yet, despite the cold calculation, he didn't push her away. He gently raised his right hand and began to stroke her hair with a slow, singular motion.
"...You're still so childish, Rei," he whispered to the empty room. "Sleeping here, in the lions' den."
At his touch, Rei trembled slightly and her eyelids fluttered open. She looked up at him, her violet eyes misty with sleep, and a soft, genuine smile bloomed on her face. Her cheeks turned a delicate pink as she realized where she was.
"Mmm... Good morning, Kuro-sama…" she murmured, her voice thick with affection.
Kuro sighed, pulling his hand away and sitting up.
"Time to get up, Rei. We'll be late for the second day of classes. And need I remind you, this is the boys' dorm? If the Student Council—or someone—finds you here, my average student mask will shatter before breakfast."
Rei pouted, stretching her arms like a feline before hopping off the bed.
"I used my master's shadow-step magic to get in! Doesn't that count for extra credit, Kuro-sama?"
Kuro kept staring at her with his usual unreadable calm. "I'm still calculating the risk-to-reward ratio of your persistence."
Rei giggled, fixing her hair and adjusting her black academy uniform.
"Calculations are boring. I prefer results!" With a sharp wink, she stepped back through a shimmering black doorway that manifested in the center of the room—a tear in space that led directly to her own dorm.
---
[Scene - Magic Academy – Classroom B, Second Day]
The classroom of Class B was buzzing with a nervous, electric energy. It was the second day of the new term, and the scheduled event was the Magic Power Assessment.
At the front of the room stood a pedestal holding a bright crystal ring—the Eye of Valerion—designed to measure the mana output of a student and display it as a numerical rank.
Kuro stood in the line, his posture slightly slumped, his eyes dull. He watched as the other students stepped forward, their faces flushed with pride or anxiety.
I'll show them I'm pathetically weak, Kuro thought, his internal monologue cold and precise. In a world of False Peace, the tallest nail is the first to be hammered. To remain invisible, I must become the floor.
When it was his turn, Kuro walked to the pedestal. He reached out and touched the crystal ring. He didn't just suppress his mana; he utilized a technique from his first life—Dark Psychology of Perception. He visualized his power as a dying ember, a flickering, useless spark.
He cast a single magical thread into the ring. The crystal dimmed instantly. It didn't glow; it barely hummed.
The numerical display flickered and settled on a number so low it was usually reserved for common villagers with no magical lineage.
The boys in the back of the class erupted into laughter.
"Really? That's it?" one shouted. "I've seen kitchen maids with more mana than that!"
"How did someone like him even get into the Royal Academy?" another jeered.
Kuro simply smiled—a small, timid, "average" smile—and returned to his seat. He didn't care. To him, their laughter was just background noise in a much larger symphony.
Then it was Rei's turn.
She stepped forward with a grace that silenced the room. Unlike Kuro, she did not hide everything. She produced a smooth, controlled pulse of magic. The ring didn't just glow; it resonated with a deep, pulsing purple hue that seemed to swallow the light around it.
"That's a rare magic..." the instructor whispered, leaning in. "Human-use dark magic is scarce in this kingdom."
"Is she from a fallen noble house?" the students whispered, their curiosity now piqued. Rei didn't look at them. She glanced back at Kuro and winked sharply, her loyalty hidden behind the brilliant display of her own power.
---
The classroom door opened with a heavy, deliberate thud. The chatter died down instantly as a new figure entered the room.
He was tall, with a steady demeanor that commanded attention without demanding it. He had sharp brown hair and eyes the color of a deep, clear ocean.
Though he wore the same standard black uniform as the rest of Class B, he walked with a confidence that felt... divine.
"Ah... sorry I'm late," the boy said, offering a polite, easy smile to the teacher. "I'm the new transfer student."
The teacher looked over his documents. "Your name?"
The boy's smile didn't waver. "Ryuto."
Kuro's eyes narrowed by a fraction of a millimeter. That name... it didn't just feel familiar; it felt like a ghost touching his spine. He searched his memories of Velgrith, then reached further back, into the gray, blood-stained memories of Tokyo.
Ryuto looked around the room, his gaze lingering on the students until he spotted Kuro. He walked over and took the empty seat directly next to him.
"Hey... You're Kuro Velgrith, right?" Ryuto asked, his voice friendly but searching.
Kuro raised an eyebrow, maintaining his mask of mild surprise.
"Yes. I am."
Ryuto extended his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm new here. Kind of feeling things out. Maybe you could show me around later? You look like the type of guy who knows where the quiet spots are."
Kuro stared at the hand for a heartbeat. His mind raced through a thousand simulations.
He is the Hero of Light. The one Elmyria summoned to destroy me. And yet, he is also the boy from the same world and I once called a friend.
Kuro reached out and shook the hand.
The handshake lasted a moment too long. As their palms met, a submerged lineage sank deep. It was a metaphysical collision. Kuro felt it instantly—Ryuto's mana wasn't just high; it was pure. It didn't feel demonic or human. It felt like the sun trapped in a vessel of flesh. Almost... divine.
Ryuto thought the same. He looked at Kuro's unremarkable face and felt a pang of intense suspicion.
There's something about this guy. His magical power reading was pathetic, but my heart is screaming at me to be careful. It's like looking into a mirror that only shows shadows.
They both smiled at the same time—two friends from a past life, two enemies in the present, both wearing masks of civility.
And so, the game began.
---
✦ To be continued...