The train rattled forward through the night, its wheels clashing against the rails in an endless rhythm. The compartment was half-empty, shadows stretching across the seats as dim yellow lights flickered above.
Rihan Arora sat near the window, his forehead pressed against the cold glass. Rain tapped against it softly, blurring the outside world into streaks of grey.
His reflection stared back at him. Messy black hair that refused to stay down, dull brown eyes, pale skin from too many nights without sleep. A college dropout, twenty years old, with nothing much to his name. He looked less like a hero, more like someone who'd been forgotten by the world.
"Another wasted day…" he muttered.
The words dissolved into the noise of the train. He pulled his backpack closer—cheap, worn out, stuffed only with notebooks and an old second-hand novel he never finished. No dreams. No goals. Only the heavy silence of his thoughts.
Why am I even alive? The question haunted him often. His parents barely spoke to him anymore, disappointed in the path he had chosen. Friends? They had disappeared one by one. And so Rihan drifted, from one day to the next, like a ghost.
The train slowed as it neared the last station. Outside, the lamps flickered weakly in the rain, like dying stars. Most of the passengers were asleep, except for a whispering couple in the far corner and an old man snoring quietly.
Rihan sighed. He pulled out his phone, scrolling aimlessly. But even the screen seemed lifeless.
And then—
A sharp static burst from the speaker above.
Rihan frowned. "Huh? At this time?"
The distorted voice echoed through the carriage:
"Passengers of the final journey… prepare for transfer."
His heart skipped. "What the hell was that…?"
The train shuddered violently. Lights flickered, then died, plunging the compartment into complete darkness.
"W-what's happening!?"
The floor vanished beneath his feet. Gravity twisted. His stomach lurched as the world spun out of control. Screams filled the air, but they warped into echoes, distant and broken, as if reality itself was cracking apart.
Rihan clawed at the seat, but his hands found nothing. His body was weightless, tumbling through emptiness.
And then—silence.
---
When his eyes opened again, he was no longer in the train.
He stood in the ruins of a temple.
The air was heavy with dust and the metallic stench of blood. Gigantic statues of demons surrounded him, carved from stone but too lifelike, their glowing blue eyes fixed upon him like watchful gods. Cracks ran along their surfaces, as if they had waited centuries for this very moment.
Above, a crescent moon hung far too close to the earth, its pale light spilling over the broken altar at the temple's center.
Rihan's legs trembled. His throat dried.
"This… this isn't real. I'm dreaming. I must be dreaming…"
But the cold beneath his bare feet told him otherwise.
The ground rumbled. Dust fell from the ceiling.
One of the colossal statues shifted.
Rihan stumbled back, heart hammering. The stone cracked apart, breaking away in chunks. From within, a chained figure emerged—a monstrous being, taller than the temple walls, its body wreathed in shadows.
Its eyes opened. Fiery red, filled with hatred and hunger. The air vibrated with its breath.
No… no no no…
The demon strained against its chains, the sound of metal grinding against stone echoing through the hall. Its voice seeped into Rihan's skull, low and ancient:
"At last… another Outlander."
Before he could run, something flashed in front of his eyes.
A glowing screen, floating in the air.
[System of Forgotten Deities Activated.]
[User: Rihan Arora]
[Status: Summoned]
"What the hell is this…?" His voice shook.
The screen pulsed, filling his vision with unreadable symbols and codes. It felt alive, like it was watching him.
[First Directive: Survive.]
The demon laughed, a sound like rolling thunder.
"So weak… yet chosen. Come closer, Outlander. Your soul will be mine."
Rihan fell to his knees, clutching his head. His pulse roared in his ears. He wanted to scream, to deny everything, but the truth was suffocating—he had been dragged into something far beyond his understanding.
And then—
Another voice whispered inside his mind. Softer, colder.
"Rihan Arora. You are not here by chance. You are mine."
His vision blurred. Darkness pressed in around him.
The last thing he saw before collapsing was the chained demon's grin, and the flickering words on the glowing screen:
[Welcome to Arcanis.]