Keizo Tezuka prefers logic to feelings. Feelings get people hurt.

A strategist at heart, he believes every problem has a pattern, every encounter a solution.

Then a girl appears in his mirror—refined, archaic, radiating impossible magic.

Izumi Hannei is no hallucination.

An Omnimage of Magnaria, exiled by the Divine Council and confined to the Mirror Realm, she speaks like a scholar, wields power she cannot access, and studies Keizo’s shampoo as if it were alchemy.

The mirror was meant to divide them. Instead, it responds—to emotion, to proximity, to something neither understands. Izumi wants her freedom. Keizo tells himself this is just another impossible scenario to optimize.

But magic does not run on logic. When they attempt the unthinkable—a desperate sequence of spells to fracture her prison—the mirror does not crack quietly.

Two worlds balance on a pane of glass.

And it is starting to give.