Flustered Timeline

Wind howls. Midnight falls silent and heavy.

Ere drifts into a nightmare―one that bleeds into reality.

A vast, abandoned warehouse, pure white. Fluorescent tube lights hum overhead, casting cold, sterile light onto a lone white metal chair. Ere sits motionless, breath curling into the icy air. Something is wrong. A memory he never chose to remember is unfolding.

Swoosh.

The sliding door parts soundlessly.

From the brilliance beyond, Sam steps inside. Her ponytail swings with each graceful step. Her eyes become emerald, unnervingly calm, dart toward an ionic column in the distance.

A voice cuts the tension:
Judith (off-screen):
"You're certain? He'll come?"

Sam nods, unbothered.
Sam (whisper-soft):
"Exactly 10:47 PM. He'll enter through the Ko Train Station portal. Just as the vision foretold."

Judith steps into view, her shadow long and twisted across the polished floor.
Judith:
"And the five performers?"
Sam:
"In position. Ere won't make it out."

Ere’s heart slams against his ribs.
He tries to rise, but the chair binds him like iron. His voice sticks, strangled in his throat.

Judith retrieves something from her coat―
A glass tip jar. Inside, not money... but squirming earwigs. On the glass, the faint silver glow of a crow’s foot symbol pulses once, then fades.
Sam (almost tenderly):
"He has no idea."

Her head turns, slowly.
Her gaze locks directly onto Ere.

In an instant, the warehouse reality shatters―

Sam's elegant form contorts grotesquely. Her skin bubbles, her body distorts into a hideous, double-chinned giantess, her once-gentle chinita eyes blazing white with ancient fury.
Sam (thunderous, inhuman voice):
"DIE, ERE! DIE!"

Ere gasps for air, drenched in cold sweat.

The walls tremble.
The ground splinters.
A final blinding flash.

The dream implodes into smoke.

[Somewhere Beneath Toyohashi City Machinaka Library]
A swirling portal opens in the gloom.

Judith and Ryuji emerge into the Mirror Realm. Judith carries a burlap sack filled with fresh earwigs, her spells already thick in the poisoned air.
Ryuji (wiping his brow):
"How many more?"
Judith (cool, almost bored):
"The new Storm Maker Machine is heavier. I need an entire murder of crows to haul it from Shinshiro Mountain to Ko Train Station."
Ryuji (chuckling):
"The Mirror Realm’s been good for your magic, Ms. Judith."
Judith (grinning slyly):
"Let’s move. I need my beauty rest before Raven Cream Puff’s big opening."

Their plan must seamlessly synchronize the Mirror Realm with the real world. For this, they need a decoy: someone to pose as an event organizer and lure their targets into the perfect trap.

At that moment, something slinks from the shadows―
A grotesque creature: monkey-like in shape, but with a serpentine tail that writhes independently.
Ryuji (grinning, extending a hand):
"Right on schedule."

The creature, called Romals from the Romal Tribe in The Mirror Realm, hisses, accepting the heavy sack of payment.
Ryuji:
"Think of this as a... collaboration."

The monkey-creature bows, clutching the sack. It will handle the preparations: hiring staff, arranging props, setting up armies in disguise―
All to make the event feel authentic, real, and irresistible to Dence and the four performers.

Inside a fractured mirror, Ere pressed his small, blue face against the cold, cracked surface.
Beyond the veil, the real world stirred.

Through the glass, Ere watched Sam―
Standing alone in her bathroom under the pale glow of a flickering bulb. Water splashed quietly as she rinsed her face, trying to wash away the restless dreams. Her eyes flickered up, locking onto her own reflection. A shiver prickled her skin. Somewhere deep inside, she felt it―a presence just beyond her reach.

But she couldn't see Ere.

Desperate, Ere pressed harder against the mirror. His voice barely a whisper, he sang into the shimmering glass:
"Amakuni... Amakuni, please..."

This time, no grand performance. No applause-seeking.
Only a song from the deepest place―truth wrapped in trembling notes.

The cracked air shifted.

A soft wind blew across the mirror, carrying a ghostly whisper:
"Omedetou..."
(“Congratulations...”)

The glass quivered. A silver spark ignited.

From the center of the mirror floated a small glowing object:
A glossokomon—an ancient, sacred weapon. Inside, guitar picks shaped like star-tipped throwing knives—followed by a black calling card, gleaming faintly with the mark of a shimmering "#".

No figure appeared. No voice spoke.
But Ere knew—Amakuni had heard his heart.

His tiny trunk trembled as he caught the sacred gifts.
On the small note, written elegantly in Japanese:
「グロッソコモンを今日午後3時までにデンスに届けろ。」
("Deliver the glossokomon to Dence, today, before 3:00 PM.")

The weight of the mission sank into Ere's chest.
Failure was not an option.

Time was already slipping away.

In the half-lit stillness of Sam’s apartment, the TV screen flickered and buzzed with restless static. She moved toward it, remote in hand.

Click.

The screen flashed black.

At that split-second, Ere, hidden beyond the mirror’s veil, acted.

Using the fading energy of the glass reflection, he hurled the glossokomon, the black calling card, and a folded note through the fragile portal. The items slipped into the real world, landing soundlessly on the carpet, gleaming under the faint light.

Sam froze.

Her senses sharpened. Dropping into a defensive karate stance, her hand ready to strike, she scanned the room―
every shadow, every corner―
prepared to chop down whatever had invaded her space.

But—
only the tick-tock, tick-tock of her wall clock answered.

No movement. No breathing. Just a heavy, pressing silence.

Slowly, cautiously, she relaxed her posture.
She stepped forward, picked up the three mysterious objects, and held them in her hands.
Sam (whispering to herself):
"These... these are from Amakuni. I can feel it..."

Turning the black card over in her hand, her heart raced.
A sudden realization stabbed through her mind.
Sam (murmuring):
"And I’m sure... they’re not meant for me. These are for the chosen one—Dence."

She sat down heavily on the edge of her couch.
A long, trembling sigh escaped her lips.
A chill ran through her spine, heavier than fear―it was certainty.
Sam (barely breathing out):
"Something bad... something really bad is going to happen..."

Beyond the mirror, Ere watched silently, his small blue trunk pressed against the cold barrier.
He listened to her whispers.
Every flicker of fear.
Every beat of tension.
He exhaled, a breath of heavy relief. Sam had noticed. The warning had been delivered.

The mission had officially begun.

Ere stumbled through the crumbling landscape, breathless, desperate to escape Judith’s tightening snare. The sky above was a rotting grey, and the cracked ground beneath his feet whispered of doom.

He ran until he reached the place even nightmares avoided:
The Cave of the Dying River.

Inside, a shallow river wound through jagged rocks, its waters dull and bitter, stripped of life by the Mirror Realm’s decay.
Ere knelt, scooping water to his lips.
He recoiled—
a strange metallic bitterness coated his tongue.

He collapsed against a stone, shivering.
For a moment, there was only the faint gurgle of the dying stream.

Then—
an echo, clear and alien to this world, rippled through the air.

"...ask the Lord for rain in the season of the spring rain..."
It was a voice, warm and resolute—Ptr. Isagani’s devotional from the real world, seeping across dimensions.

Ere froze, hypnotized.

A soft glow spread across his forehead: Zechariah 10:1.
The same ethereal light burned within his eyes.

He listened—truly listened—as the words sank deep into his spirit.
A deep weariness overcame him, and he surrendered to sleep.

[Elsewhere in the Mirror Realm]
The Romals stirred in their underground hovels.

Twisted monkey-like creatures with serpent tails, they scurried about, preparing their weapons, gears, and disguises.
Potions brewed from their tribal toxins hissed in glass vials, ready for injections that would allow them to steal human faces.

The Romals, parasites of wealth and power, thrived by attaching themselves to the ambitions of men like Ryuji.
Tonight, they had a contract:
500 strong, armed and deadly serious, pledged to carry out the silent war against Dence and the remnants of resistance.

Then—a stirring.
A robed spirit emerged from the mist, its form outlined by a soft silver shimmer.
The robe fluttered, touching Ere’s cheek.

His eyes snapped open, half-lidded, fearful.

Before him stood the legendary figure, The Ghost—Amakuni Yasutsuna.

Their eyes locked.

Ere, stammering, poured out his frantic visions.
Amakuni listened patiently, filtering the fear from the truth.

At last, the Ghost spoke.
Amakuni (calm, unwavering):
"Five wolves will help you."

He knelt and drew a wide circle in the sand.

One by one, five spectral wolves materialized from the air—silent, massive, burning with ancient energy.
Amakuni (commanding):
"Take them. Their bodies shall carry lost souls until they find peace."

With a final nod, Amakuni dissolved into mist, his departure a whispered promise on the dead air.

Courage reignited within Ere’s chest.

He rose, the five wolves gathering at his side, and together they marched toward the closed portal at Ko Train Station.

Leader of Romals (hissing, reverent):
"All troops have been briefed. The silent war begins at your command."
Ryuji (leaning closer, voice cold):
"Deliver a dark, happy ending—and we’ll reward you beyond imagination. Fail, and the storm will devour you and your kind."

The Romal leader bowed low, shadows writhing around him.
Leader of Romals:
"Affirmative, Master."

One of the spectral wolves intentionally slipped through the veil.

It darted unseen into the crowded square, slipping into the body of a wandering Peruvian man—turning him into an unwitting spy. Guided by the wolf's spirit, the man drifted through the sea of people, his hidden purpose clear: find Dence and deliver the warning.

Meanwhile, high above the city, Judith worked her spells with ruthless focus. The stars trembled. Then, bleeding into the pale afternoon sky, a new constellation formed—the stark, haunting shape of a '#'. It shimmered faintly, a silent signal burning its way into the heavens, desperate for Dence to see."