The ground was not ground. It was glass, but it didn't break beneath him. Every step echoed as if he walked inside a bell. Above, three suns overlapped—white, gold, and pale blue. Their light braided into a single beam that fell exactly on the net at the center of the crystalline padel court.
Ren blinked. His throat scraped for air. Where—where am I?
A voice answered without moving lips.
"The Court Between Worlds."
He looked up. The figure cloaked in starlight stood at the baseline. Its outline shifted—sometimes tall, sometimes slight, sometimes neither. Its face was a mask of glass that showed constellations moving behind it.
Ren clutched the racket. His voice cracked. "You... pulled me here?"
"The Chosen of this world has fallen. The Olympiad nears. Without balance, collapse follows. You were... selected."
"Selected?" He barked a laugh, thin and sour. "I'm a nobody. I couldn't even return a serve yesterday. I don't even like losing anymore."
The Keeper tilted its head, the stars behind its mask rearranging into something like a smile.
"Exactly. You lose. Yet you still stand. That is the only proof this world accepts."
Ren's grip whitened on the racket. Still standing after losing... that again. He wanted to scream that standing wasn't choice, just survival. He wanted to argue. Instead, the words stuck.
"You will enter the World of Courts," the Keeper continued. "There, padel is law. Politics, faith, marriage, death—all bound to the game. The Global Olympiad decides the ruler of four years. Without a Chosen, the League will fall to chaos."
Ren's chest ached. "So what, you want me to be your... substitute player? Fill in for the guy who died?"
"Yes. A Substitute Messiah."
The title hit him like a mis-scored point. Messiah? Me? He almost laughed, but the court's echo stole the sound.
"Why me? Out of everyone?"
The Keeper lifted a hand. Lines of light spun in the air—a floating status window. His name blazed across it:
[Tachibana Ren — Level 1]
Serve Power: 8
Rally Control: 9
Reflex Speed: 7
Stamina: 6
Mental Fortitude: 10
Team Sync: 3
Ren swallowed hard. "This is a joke."
"It hovered in the corner of my vision like a game HUD (Heads-Up Display). Numbers, bars, things I'd only seen in RPGs... except no one else seemed to notice."
"This is your truth. You begin as nothing. That is why you may become everything."
The racket in his hand pulsed once. The cracks glowed brighter, aligning like veins into a single star pattern. The Keeper's voice lowered, carrying a final weight.
"You have one choice: return to your hollow life, forgotten even in loss... or stand here, lose with meaning, and fight until victory rewrites your name."
Ren's breath came ragged. He thought of his boss's pen, his mother's message, Haruka's ring. He thought of his reflection in the pawn shop window—someone so easy to walk past.
If I go back... nothing changes. If I stay... maybe losing matters.
He raised his head. "And if I win?"
The Keeper's starlit mask flickered. The constellations aligned into something sharp, bright.
"Then you will hold the Court Eternal. And all of history will bow to your serve."
Ren shivered. His lips twitched into something not quite a smile.
"Sounds... ridiculous," he muttered. "But so is my life."
The crystal court hummed. The mural star overhead widened into a portal. On the other side—shouts, crowds, the sound of padel balls striking glass and echoing like thunder.
"Step forward, Substitute," the Keeper said. "Your first match awaits."
Ren inhaled. His sneakers squeaked on glass. He stepped into the light.
The roar of a stadium swallowed him whole. Thousands of voices chanted in unison—
"Padel is Everything! Padel is Life!"
Ren opened his eyes on the world obsessed.