ARC I: DISCOVERY – Destiny & Fate
The boy stirred awake, his body sinking into the sterile embrace of a hospital bed, the world around him a fragile illusion of normalcy stitched back together. He jolted upright, eyes darting through the sterile white void, searching for a shard of truth—any sign that the nightmare had clawed its way from dream to reality. But the air hung empty, a hollow echo mocking his desperation.
"Was… that a dream? But that felt so real. Who was she? What were they?" His voice trembled, a fractured whisper as his mind grappled with the fading specters, questions clawing at the edges of his sanity.
A kaleidoscope of dark hues swirled in his eyes, a storm of shadow and void, as memory slipped through his grasp like sand, the dream dissolving into a black abyss. The door creaked open, and a nurse ushered in his family, their eyes glistening with tears that carved rivers down their faces.
His mother surged forward, her arms a desperate cage around him, her tears staining his hospital garment with salty grief.
"Oh, Waru, don't ever scare me like that again, you hear me?!" Her scolding voice cracked, a mother's plea laced with fear. He sat, a statue of confusion, his gaze drifting to his father and little sister, their faces a puzzle he couldn't piece together.
"Huh, mom? Why am I in the hospital?" Waru's voice brimmed with concern, a fragile thread in the silence. Their eyes mirrored his bewilderment, wiping away tears as his father turned to the nurse, a silent plea for answers. She led him outside, their whispers lost beyond the door, leaving the family in a tense vigil. When his father returned, his voice burst with relief.
"They said Waru could come home, but we need to bring him back for inspection for a few weeks!" His shout ignited a celebration, a chorus of joy—except for Waru, whose spirit remained shadowed.
His eyes drooped, heavy with an unseen weight, his chest a cavern where something vital had been carved away, a void within his soul. His parents discharged him, guiding him to the car, its engine roaring to life with a primal growl before settling into a low, ominous hum.
On the drive home, Waru chased the fragments of his lost past, his mind a labyrinth—until a cough racked his frame, a jagged sound in the quiet.
"You okay back there, Waru?" His father's concern cut through the hum, a lifeline in the gloom.
"Yeah, I'm fine. No need to worry about me, dad. Anyway… what happened? Why was I in the hospital? Did something happen to me?" His questions spilled out, a desperate bid to reclaim the missing pieces of his fractured mind.
An eerie silence coiled within the vehicle, his parents exchanging a glance heavy with unspoken dread. His mother's voice broke the stillness.
"Well, honey… You see, 6 nights ago, while you were sleeping, you suddenly screaming like a maniac. When we came to see what was happening, your nose, ears and mouth were running with blood. The blood was so much, too much to bear. We don't really know what happened to you. We were hoping you could answer that answer." Her words faded, leaving Waru's spirit sinking deeper into gloom.
"Oh, I see." His muted response hung in the air as they pulled into their home.
They stepped out, the weight of the day clinging to them, and Waru ascended to his room, collapsing onto his bed with a thud, a prisoner of his own thoughts.
"What was that dream about again? I can't seem to remember anymore. Was it a dream? Because it felt more like a memory. Maybe if I sleep it'll happen again." His mumbling spiraled into the void as sleep claimed him, swift as a predator's strike. Blackness swallowed his dreams—until a voice pierced the silence.
"Waru, it's me, Shiro. Waru, wake up, we're in danger! Waru! Waru!" The cry morphed into his mother's call, rousing him for school.
He leapt from the bed, heart racing like a track horse, his mother retreating to prepare breakfast. Staring at his chest, he felt the frantic pulse beneath, a drumbeat of unease.
"That voice… It sounds so… familiar." The thought coiled in his mind as he dressed, smoothed his hair, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and descended the stairs, a shadow of himself.
At the table, his mother slid a plate before him—two fried eggs, bacon, and a rice cake—its warmth a stark contrast to his chill. He stared, realizing 6 days had starved his body, and began eating, the name "Shiro" humming in his skull like a trapped echo. His fork clattered to the plate as the name slipped free: "Shiro."
His mother's voice chimed in.
"Oh, Shiro, that friend of yours? Yes, she was really worried about you. She went to visit you twice in the hospital, you know? Is there something going on between you two? Are you dating?" Her teasing giggle danced in the air as she ate.
"I don't remember." Waru replied, his mother's confusion mirroring his own. He rose, finished his meal, grabbed his bag, and headed for the door.
"Well, I'm off now. See you later, Mom!" His farewell echoed as he stepped into the world.
On the sidewalk, he watched classmates drift off, late for school, their defiance a silent rebellion. He shook his head, a sigh escaping as the weight of school's grind settled—difficult for a 16-year-old boy with average grades, average attributes, and zero friends… or so he thought.
A young girl, his age, bumped into him, her uniform a mirror of his, her voice a soft melody.
"Hey, Waru. Great to see you're out of the hospital and healthy again." Her elegant, beautiful smile illuminated the morning.
Her voice flowed like cotton, her slim, petite frame draped in a uniform that hugged her perfectly—unlike his awkward fit. Her face rivaled the ocean at sunset, a breathtaking vista, her long blonde hair swaying like leaves in the wind. Yet her eyes seized him—large, blue orbs glowing with the sun's reflection, a mirror to his dream's depths.
"Who are you?" Waru asked, her confusion and hurt slicing the air.
"What do you mean? It's me, Shiro." Her words froze time, echoing twice in his skull: "It's me, Shiro." He grabbed her arm, pinning her against the wall behind them.
"Who are you and what are you doing here? You were in my dream twice. You killed one of those things… the… the Soul Thieves and you saved me. What's going on? Why can't I remember anything?" His barrage of questions trembled with desperation.
She stood, flustered, her face bloodred with a blush.
"Huh, can you let me… go, please?" She pleaded, and he glanced around—onlookers' stares burned into him. He released her, apologizing swiftly.
"Look, Waru. I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm your friend, remember? We met at the entrance ceremony at school, and we started talking because our numbers were right next to each other's. Mine was 980288 and yours was 9802…" She reached for his lost memories.
"…89." Waru completed, her leap of joy a burst of light.
"Yes! Yes!! You remember!" She shouted, her happiness a stark contrast to his lingering gloom.
"I don't remember all of it though… Come on, let's go to school." He declared, leading the way as she followed, her cheer a faint melody behind him.
Their school loomed colossal, a prestigious pre-college fortress teeming with a million students from across the globe. Waru and Shiro shared a class, desks side by side, where every male envied him for befriending such a beauty, and every female scorned him for tainting her popularity. Waru, however, didn't give a damn.
He cherished her for her essence, her care piercing the void of his solitude. Their homeroom teacher stormed in, books slamming onto her desk, silencing the chaos.
"Good morning, class. I am Ms. Tanaka, and I shall be your new homeroom teacher. Well, as you all know, we will be starting our second term in this year and this will mean the beginning or the end for you first years, because mid-terms are coming up. I would like you all to introduce yourselves to me, so I can remember your names. I don't want a speech, just your names, okay? Stand and present yourselves whenever you're ready." Ms. Tanaka's command spurred the class into motion. Waru watched, bracing for the inevitable snarky remark when his turn came.
He sighed as Shiro rose, her voice smooth as silk.
"Morning, miss. My name is Shiro Sakamoto. I am 16 years old, and it is nice to meet you." She bowed gracefully, the teacher nodding as Waru's moment loomed.
He stood, a weary exhale escaping.
"My name is Waru Ryuji. I am 16 years old, and I am looking forward to learning from you." His slurred, tired voice hung in the air, yet no retort struck. He bowed, reclaiming his seat.
Five minutes into the lesson, Shiro's voice pierced his skull like a grenade.
"Waru! We need you!" The cry ignited a throbbing pain, but he sat still, the numbers-- 980289 --chanting in his mind. He muttered them, a ritual in the silence—when the world warped. Light seared his skin anew, his eyes adjusting to a jagged reality. His hands—his hands—bore scales like a serpent's, his lips cracked from days without water.
It was that world again, the apocalyptic realm of the Soul Thieves, yet now he felt the weight of consciousness.
"Finally, you're awake, Waru." The girl who rescued him spoke, her presence a lifeline as he lay in a bed.
"Sh-Shiro?" Waru's confusion trembled in the air. She smiled, grasping his hand, tears brimming yet held at bay.
"Yeah, it's me, Waru." Her voice softened, a beacon in the gloom.
He stared, transfixed—this Shiro diverged from his world's vision. Short black hair framed her face, her muscular frame a testament to survival. She rubbed her eyes, a sudden resolve hardening her gaze, and pulled him from the bed.
"Come on, the leaders want to discuss matters again." She said, her expression shifting to a mask of gravity as they stepped outside.
"The leaders?" Waru's voice quivered with bewilderment.
"The S.T.R.A.T. Leaders. You know, the group of people who think they own humankind now. I don't get why they hate you so much though." Shiro replied, leading him to an advanced skyscraper, its peak lost in the clouds, its technology a mockery of his world's crude tools.
She spoke the code again—980289—and the doors parted. Inside, eyes bore into him, whispers slithering like snakes, audible as if he stood in their midst.
"Hey, Shiro? Do I have like… superpowers?" Waru's confusion spilled forth.
"Well, yeah. You are our only hope against the Soul Thieves, after all. You have super hearing, space permeation and another power you said you couldn't explain to us yet. You were always an ambiguous guy, hehe." Shiro giggled, guiding him to a circular device in the ground.
"Another question. Why is everyone staring at me?" Waru pressed as the crowd's gaze persisted. Shiro joined him in the circle.
"Weird, it seems as though you lost your memory again, but they'll figure it out. They are staring at you because you lost against a Soul Thief for the first time, and you were unconscious for 6 days." She explained, his eyes widening at the echo of time.
"980289." Her voice activated the device, transporting them to an office.
"So, he finally woke up, huh?" One voice mused from an office chair.
"So, has he spoken yet?" Another asked, pouring coffee.
"I hope he did for your sake, Shiro." A female voice chimed from another chair.
"Well, I brought him here so you could ask him those ridiculous questions." Shiro retorted, her anger a sharp edge as the coffee drinker returned to his seat.
"Who are you and why am I here? What is this about?" Waru's voice rang with bold defiance. The chair occupants exchanged disbelieving glances.
"So, he lost his memories? Well, Ryuji… We are the Soul Thief Resistance Agency and Technicians. We specialize in wiping out the Soul Thieves from our world and you, K-8D7, used to work for us, until you went solo. You were here to answer some of our questions, but alas, you seem to be useless once more." The female voice clarified.
"Nevertheless, can you tell us what you experienced? I have a hunch that something is wrong here." The coffee drinker probed, sipping his brew.
"Well, all I know is one moment I'm in the normal world and went to sleep and the next moment… I was dreaming that I was about to be eaten by a Soul Thief before Shiro rescued me. After that, I was back in the real world again. Then, I said those numbers Shiro said, and I was here again in a bed. I don't know what the hell is going on here." Waru confessed, leaving them dumbfounded.
"Maybe, this was the ability K-8D7 was talking about." One man gestured, sparking a hushed discussion. Shiro's gaze widened, stunned by his words. Post-debate, the trio introduced themselves.
"Well, in that case, I think we should present ourselves. I am Haruno Nishida, and I am one of the founders and chairmen of S.T.R.A.T. We first met two years ago in a fight with three Soul Thieves. We almost lost our lives that day and that is the day I decided to create this agency. I asked you to join the board, but you rejected me." The female chairman began.
"I am Saru Gorei, second chairman of S.T.R.A.T. We only met about 7 or 8 months ago and you made one hell of an impression. You held a dagger to my neck and threatened me. However, that's all in the past, Ryuji." The coffee drinker followed, sipping again.
"My name is Novac Daka, the third chairman of the Soul Thieves Resistance Agency and Technicians. I am also the Head of Defense and Arms, the division Nishida wanted to give you because of your knowledge of weapons and Soul Thieves. We only met two weeks ago." The third concluded, reclaiming his seat.
"Hey, Shiro… I think we should go now." Waru said, turning to the circle. Shiro's concern flickered as she followed.
"Okay, Chairmen... I hope we never see each other again." She bid, their grins and scoffs a bitter farewell.
"980289." The device whisked them downward.
Waru stormed out, his face a mask of shadow and resolve, unsettling Shiro's nerves.
"I have to go, Shiro. I'll be back in three days, okay? I remembered something and I have to go figure it out." He announced, his expression a familiar storm. She nodded, and they exited to the building where he awoke.
"Can you carry me to the bed?" Waru asked. Shiro laughed, tapping her bicep.
"I'm not that helpless, frail girl from 2 years ago, Waru. I mean just look at these muscles." She boasted with a smile and confidence. Waru chuckled, sitting beside the elevator.
"I think I figured out what's going on, but I have to find out what all the messed-up puzzles mean. I'll see you soon, okay?" He explained, closing his eyes. She smiled, kneeling to rub his head.
He opened his eyes at her touch, her lips pressing against his in a fleeting fire. His heart melted like ice in her grasp, memories of them flooding back—love igniting in that instant before she pulled away.
"Good luck, Waru." His stunned silence broke as he whispered, "980289." The numbers carried him to his world's bed, a voice slicing through the haze:
"We're not dead… we're with you, Waru. Don't screw this up. You're the last one."
He jolted upright, his world's Shiro leaping from a chair to hug him.
"You're awake! Stop scaring us like this." She sobbed, tears near. He embraced her, realization dawning.
"Shiro, I have to tell you something, but can you promise me that you won't think I'm crazy or tell anyone?" Waru asked as they parted.
She nodded, and he sat, spilling his truth.
"I have been travelling to a different world, and I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. This world… it's like ours, but twelve times different at the same time. You were there, but you had black hair, and you seemed more muscular. What I think happened was, the me from that world died and my soul shifted to his body. In that world, there are these things called Soul Thieves. They supposedly steal the souls of humans and eat their bodies afterward. They can take the forms of humans and blend into what is left of society. When I came back just now, I heard a voice, and I think that it was me from that world. He said that they're not dead and that I'm not alone. Also, that I'm the last one. That world is broken, Shiro, and, for some inexplicable reason, it feel as though I'm the only one that can fix such a dystopia. Like it's my destiny or fate, if you believe in that type of thing, which you probably don't." His words hung heavy with conviction.
"Well, that kinda sounds a bit to hard to believe, don't you think? How do expect me to believe you, Waru?" Shiro's skepticism pierced the air.
He sighed, raising his right hand, pushing it through reality's veil—ripples danced as his hand vanished, reemerging with a fish from another realm. Silence gripped the room, her eyes shrinking, jaw dropping, breath racing.
"Wh-Wha… Wh-Where? H-How? WHAT…!!" She nearly screamed, distraught. Waru leapt, silencing her against the wall.
"Shh! Don't scream. Do you believe me now?" He whispered, her nod a fragile assent as he stepped back. She steadied herself, noting the gravity in his eyes.
"Okay… I believe you, but how do you plan on saving that world?" Her interest flared, a spark in the gloom. He chuckled, laughter bubbling up.
"What's so funny?" She asked, stepping closer. He wiped tears of mirth.
"Well, you just got so serious all of a sudden, it was funny." She blushed, punching his arm.
"You're a jerk, you know that?" She scoffed, sitting on his bed, crossing her legs.
"Yeah, I know. Honestly, this only started happening six days ago and I had to find out what was happening first, so I don't know what to do as of yet. I first have to figure out what I'm facing, because my gut tells me it's not just the Soul Thieves. I told the other you I'd be back in three days and as far as I know, time runs the same in both worlds. The six days I was unconscious here, I was conscious there or at least existed there." Waru explained. She nodded, blushing as she fiddled with her hair.
"Hey, uh… Waru? How do I look in this other world?" She ventured. He rubbed his chin.
"Well honestly… you look hot. Still short and still fierce, but sexy and cute at the same time. Like that one anime character in Dungeon Monsters. Oh… and that you also kissed me." He grinned, blushing. She gasped, pulling her hoodie over her head.
"Sorry… if I offended you somehow." He apologized, rubbing his head. She smiled, standing tall.
"Well, Waru. I want to help you." Her salute stance rang with resolve. He smiled, rubbing her head, agreeing as she rejoiced.
I don't know what destiny is or if it's true and I don't truly believe in fate… but this feeling… it's unexplainable. You know one of those feelings you have like you were meant to do this, like you were born for this specific thing. Well, that's how I feel. I don't know what I've gotten myself into or how I'm going to finish what I started, but I'm going to do it and I'm going to win!
-Arc I:Discovery - Destiny & Fate END-
-Chapter I: The World Converter END-