Lucien's POVThe first thing I noticed wasn't the tower.
It was the structure.
The cadence.
This place moved like a machine built from myth—divine power layered over economics, over adventurers, over death.
Everyone I passed carried themselves with purpose: swords on hips, armor that fit too well to be for show, cloaks stitched with emblems I recognized but couldn't place—until I stopped walking and actually looked.
I saw the Guild sigil.
A weapon rack carved with Hestia's flame.
A recruitment flyer stamped with the scales of Astraea.
And just like that, my stomach sank.
Not because I was lost.
Because I knew exactly where I was.
Orario.
DanMachi.
The city with gods at street level and monsters crawling beneath the foundation like rot.
It wasn't a theory. It wasn't a maybe.
It was a memory.
A set of late-night binges back home, watching Bell Cranel cry over people he wasn't strong enough to save.
But this wasn't Bell's era.
Not yet.
I'd arrived before everything fell apart.
Before the Dungeon went wild.
Before Astraea's Familia was wiped off the map.
Which meant—
She was still alive.
I wandered further into the city.
The streets buzzed with tension that didn't reach the surface. Guild members barked orders at rookies. Veteran adventurers walked in pairs or threes, their armor scuffed but clean, their eyes forward. The air smelled of metal, sweat, and faintly charged spell residue.
And then I saw her.
Not in some grand, glowing entrance.
Just walking down the lane.
Alfia.
Black cloak. Quiet eyes. A presence that felt coiled even at rest.
She passed me without looking twice.
But I looked.
And I knew.
Not just from the anime—but from the way the people around her shifted. Gave space. Held their breath.
This was a woman who had changed the trajectory of this city more than once.
And would again.
I didn't speak.
Didn't introduce myself.
Just watched her disappear into the crowd like a ghost pretending to still be flesh.
And something twisted in my chest.
Because this wasn't history.
Not anymore.
It was potential.
And if I played this right?
I could be standing in the quiet before the flood.
I checked into a modest inn tucked between an alchemist's lab and a tattered bookstore. The woman behind the desk gave me a sideways look but took the coin I offered without a word.
She didn't ask for my name.
Smart.
That night, I lay awake staring at the ceiling.
The hum of this world was louder than the last.
The mana trace in me—leftover from Fate—was still quiet. Dormant. But the pressure in my chest was starting to build again.
And I knew why.
This place was full of systems. Mechanics. Power built on rules.
And rules?
Were meant to be rewritten.
Especially by someone who was never supposed to be here.
I wasn't going to save the Astraea Familia.
I wasn't going to warn them.
But I was going to watch.
And if there was leverage to be found in the blood and rubble to come—
Then I'd be there.
Standing exactly where the story broke.