Chapter 0: The World That Came to Reclaim Its Author

Asuka Kiryu stared at the blank screen in front of him.
The cursor blinked, waiting for an ending that never came.

Once, he believed that stories could save people. That if he wrote long enough, earnestly enough, the world would make sense. But the novel he poured his entire life into was rejected, forgotten, and left unfinished—just like his own life.

There was nothing left to fix. He still clearly remembered the glory he once had, starting from his light novel being adapted into an anime and even going viral everywhere. But no one stays at the peak forever. His work had fallen, no longer celebrated as it once was. Readers had moved on to other stories—stories that felt painfully shallow to him. What he needed the most now was attention, yet not a single gaze was directed toward him.

When everything had already fallen apart, he still vividly remembered his superior yelling at him.

“Disgusting!”
“Disgusting!”
“Who would even want to read trash like this? There’s nothing special about it!”

Those words cut deeper than he expected. On that very day, he was officially expelled from the agency. Having lost all hope, he tried to end his life, convinced that no one cared anymore.

As he raised the poison to his lips, the air around him distorted.

Light fractured space itself—without pattern, without symbols. The darkness in the room was swallowed whole, as if reality had failed to hold its shape.

“What is this…?” Asuka muttered.

Before he could scream or even think, the world collapsed into silence.

He felt himself falling—not downward, but away.
Through something that felt less like a tunnel and more like a tearing sensation, until fear, thought, and consciousness all dissolved.

When he opened his eyes, an unfamiliar sky greeted him.

He immediately knew this was no longer his world.

Dragons moved across the distant clouds, slow and immense. As awareness returned, he realized he was lying near the edge of a forest beside a lake.

“What kind of place is this…?”
“Did I… enter another world?”

And then it hit him.

The land.
The horizon.
Even the air.

Everything felt wrong—and yet unbearably familiar.

This was the world he had written.
The story he abandoned.
The ending he never finished.

A book hovered in the air before him—large, heavy, and undeniably real.
Its cover was pitch black, bearing a single word etched in dull gold.

FATE.

Asuka’s breath caught. Instinctively, he reached out.

The moment his fingers were about to touch it, the book dissolved—
not falling, not vanishing in light, but simply slipping out of reality itself, as if it had never truly been there.

The space where it had been was empty.

And for reasons he could not explain, Asuka understood—

it had not disappeared because it was taken away.

It had disappeared because it had not chosen him.

This was neither salvation nor punishment.
This was the story he left unfinished—finally coming to reclaim its author.

He stood and began to move, searching for a reason to keep living in a world that should not exist.

Halfway through the forest, a sharp pain pierced his skull.

“—gh…!”
“Damn… what is this…?”

“…Asuka Kiryu.”

The voice echoed—not from outside, but from somewhere uncomfortably close.

Asuka stiffened.
“Who’s there?”

“My designation is Karma.”

A pause.

“…I am a navigation construct.”

Kiryu pressed a hand to his temple as the pain intensified, forcing him to lean against a tree.

“Navigation… for what?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Your continued existence.”

Kiryu exhaled slowly, forcing his breathing to steady.

“Then answer me,” he muttered.
“Why does my head feel like it’s about to split open?”

“Initial synchronization instability,” Karma replied.
“State: incomplete.”

“Incomplete…?” Kiryu repeated.

He slid down the tree and lay still beneath it, staring at the unfamiliar sky. He raised his right arm toward the sun, half-expecting it to vanish.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then—

“There is a threat approaching.”

“There is a threat approaching.”

Kiryu sighed.

“Be quiet,” he said flatly.
“What kind of threat?”

“Unknown entities. Multiple. Surrounding position.”

“…Great,” Kiryu muttered.
“And what am I supposed to do?”

“If you remain still,” Karma answered,
“probability of death: 89%.”

“…And if I move?”

“It increases to 92%.”

Movement rustled through the bushes.

“…Slimes?” Kiryu blinked.

“Karma,” he muttered dryly,
“I think your calculations might be broken.”

Karma did not respond.

Unaware of what truly lurked beyond his perception, Kiryu dismissed the warning—never realizing that behind the slimes, three massive Minotaurs were already charging toward him.