The stadium shook with thunderous cheers. Neon lights flashed, confetti cannons exploded, and the roar of the audience carried across the massive dome. On the big screen above the stage, the name KaiZero blazed in golden letters.
Kaito Arisawa sat back in his chair, his blonde hair sticking slightly to his forehead from the heat of the match lights. His ice-blue eyes, sharp and unyielding, remained calm despite the chaos around him. He had done it again—another flawless victory, another trophy, another championship added to his long list of accomplishments.
But as he stood, accepted the shining trophy from the trembling hands of the host, and raised it briefly for the crowd, there was no fire in his expression. The audience saw a champion. Kaito felt only hollowness.
The cheers echoed in his head long after he had left the arena. He walked the streets of Tokyo, neon signs blazing above him, the night alive with color and sound. His phone buzzed relentlessly with congratulatory messages, sponsors begging for contracts, fans flooding his feed. Without a glance, he turned it off and shoved it into his pocket.
"I won again," he muttered under his breath, his voice drowned by the hum of the city. "But for what?"
The crosswalk light changed. He stepped forward, his mind lost in thoughts of emptiness, of countless victories that had long since lost their meaning.
That was when it happened.
A blaring horn ripped through the night.
Kaito's head turned just in time to see the blazing headlights of a truck rushing toward him. Tires screeched, metal groaned, but the mass of steel was unstoppable. In the frozen seconds before impact, Kaito's eyes widened, and then—
Impact.
The world dissolved into blackness.
When his consciousness returned, he was no longer lying on the asphalt. He was standing. His body felt weightless, his surroundings unfamiliar.
An endless expanse stretched before him. Pure white, without horizon, without sky, without ground. It was a space that defied comprehension, an infinite nothingness that somehow existed.
Kaito's voice cracked the silence. "Where… am I?"
A soft tremor stirred the space. Light gathered, swirling like dust in water, until it condensed into a towering figure. A man—or rather, something shaped like a man—draped in flowing robes that shimmered with golden patterns. His presence radiated warmth and pressure at once, like standing before both the sun and a storm.
The figure spoke, his voice resonant, echoing from everywhere and nowhere.
"I have been waiting for you, Kaito Arisawa."
Kaito's eyes narrowed, his usual calmness returning despite the strangeness of the situation. His voice was cold, sharp.
"Who are you?"
The figure lifted his head. His face was obscured by light, but his gaze pierced through nonetheless.
"My name is Yamamoto. I am a god of this realm."
Kaito's fists tightened. "A god, huh? Then tell me—what do you want from me?"
The figure—Yamamoto—spread his arms, the vast white expanse trembling as if in response.
"I want you to become the savior of this world."
Kaito blinked once. His expression hardened. "…Savior? You're mistaken. I have no power. I'm just a gamer."
A low hum of amusement came from Yamamoto. His glowing eyes softened, almost like a smile.
"That is precisely why I must give you power. Or so I thought." His tone shifted, curious, probing. "But now that I stand before you, I sense it… an aura unlike anything I have felt before. Deep within you is a strength that even I cannot fully grasp. Perhaps you are not just a man summoned. Perhaps you are an heir to the gods themselves… or a god reborn."
Kaito's breath caught. His voice shook slightly, though his face remained controlled. "An heir? Don't joke with me. I was nothing but a gamer in my world."
"Yes," Yamamoto answered, his voice calm but certain. "In your world, you were indeed a gamer. But perhaps that was only one life among many. Perhaps you have lived again and again, never knowing the truth of your soul. Reincarnation, rebirth—what if you carry memories not of one life, but countless lives? That would explain the force sleeping within you."
Kaito's eyes widened. The idea clawed at his mind. Multiple lives? A hidden soul? His existence reduced to a cycle he had never been aware of?
He swallowed hard. "…So then… what is this world you want me to 'save'? How does it even work?"
At that, Yamamoto's presence grew heavier, the void shifting as if bending to his will. His golden robes shimmered brighter, and he raised one hand. At once, the blank expanse filled with images, like a vast tapestry unfolding across the sky.
"Listen carefully, Kaito Arisawa," Yamamoto said, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "This is the truth of the world you are about to enter."
The images swirled. Mountains split by rivers of lava. Skies torn open by storms of black fire. Armies of humans clashing against hordes of demons, their screams echoing across the void. Castles crumbling, fields burned, blood staining the soil.
"This world is divided," Yamamoto continued. "On one side stand the kingdoms of men, fractured and prideful, forever quarreling over land and power. On the other side, the demon clans, born of shadow and flame, who seek nothing but conquest and destruction. For centuries, they have fought without end, and the balance has teetered ever closer to collapse."
Kaito's eyes narrowed, studying the visions with the same analytical focus he gave to high-level gameplay. "So it's a war. A world locked in endless conflict."
"Not only war," Yamamoto corrected, his tone deepening. "The very laws of this world tremble. The gods who once guarded it have faded, their power scattered. What remains is chaos. And now…" He paused, eyes boring into Kaito. "…now, I sense that something darker stirs. An ancient force, older than gods and demons alike, prepares to awaken."
The void shivered, and a monstrous shadow filled the tapestry. A colossal figure with eyes burning like dying stars. Its presence alone made Kaito's chest tighten.
Kaito's jaw clenched. "…And you want me to fight that?"
"You are not powerless," Yamamoto said firmly. "Even now, I feel the strength buried inside you. Perhaps you are destined to awaken a power greater than mine. Perhaps you were sent to me by the cycle of eternity itself. I will grant you my blessing, but remember—your soul already carries its own light… or shadow."
Kaito's fists trembled. His mind raced. Gamer. Champion. Mortal. And now, possibly heir to gods? It was absurd. And yet, the raw gravity of Yamamoto's words, the weight of the visions before him, told him this was no game.
He inhaled deeply, forcing his thoughts into order. His voice was steady, but heavy with the unknown.
"…Alright. If this is real, if I've really been dragged into this… then tell me everything. How do I survive in this world? How does it work?"
Yamamoto nodded once, and the tapestry shifted again. Images of adventurers, guilds, glowing crystals of power, and towering beasts appeared.
"In this world," the god began, "strength defines survival. The laws are not like those of your own. Here, mana flows through the air, the lifeblood of all things. With it, humans wield magic, craft weapons, and seal ancient powers. Yet mana is not limitless—it must be cultivated, harnessed, balanced."
Scenes shifted—mages casting fire from their hands, swordsmen splitting boulders with glowing blades, priests healing the wounded with radiant light.
"Kingdoms rise and fall based on their heroes," Yamamoto continued. "Those with talent are nurtured as warriors, hunters, and guardians. Those without… are left behind. And amidst all this, the demon clans grow stronger, their generals devouring the weak to fuel their endless hunger."
The god's gaze pierced Kaito. "You will enter this world not as a champion, but as a wanderer. No title, no allegiance. To survive, you must learn. To fight, you must adapt. And in time…" His tone darkened. "…your true power will awaken. What you choose to do with it—whether to save or to destroy—will be entirely yours."
The images faded, leaving only the endless void once more. Yamamoto's form loomed tall and unshakable.
"So, Kaito Arisawa," he said, voice like rolling thunder. "Will you step into this world, knowing the weight it carries? Will you accept this fate?"
Kaito stood silent for a long time, his blue eyes locked on the god's radiant form. His heart pounded, but his expression was as cold and unreadable as ever.
Finally, he exhaled, his words a whisper that cut through the silence.
"…I don't know what I am. A gamer. A pawn. Maybe even your so-called heir. But if this world needs saving… then fine. I'll play the game."
Yamamoto's light flared, enveloping the void. "Then let the game begin."
A brilliant glow swallowed Kaito, dragging him into the unknown. His body dissolved, his soul hurled into a new reality.
And thus, the pro gamer who once dominated a virtual world… was reborn into a world where the stakes were far greater than victory or defeat.
The blinding white expanse of the divine plane began to shift, its crystalline sky warping like ripples on water. Yamamoto's voice carried with a gentle yet commanding echo, his form towering, wrapped in robes that shimmered with the cosmos. His eyes held centuries of wisdom, but also the faintest glint of mischief—like a teacher who knew far more than his student could grasp.
"Well then, Kaito Arisawa," Yamamoto said, folding his hands behind his back. "Now that you understand the rules and functions of this world, prepare yourself… for descent."
Kaito blinked, his sharp blue eyes narrowing. "Descent?" he repeated, his tone flat, his golden hair catching the surreal divine light. "What do you mean by that?"
Yamamoto smiled—too calmly. "Exactly what it sounds like."
Before Kaito could protest, the floor beneath him dissolved. The platform of white marble cracked open into nothingness. His stomach lurched, his body pitched forward, and the void pulled him in with merciless force.
"Wait—WHAT THE HELL?!" Kaito's voice echoed through the endless drop. The divine sky and the god's temple shrank rapidly above him. His hoodie and jeans whipped violently in the cosmic wind, his heart hammering in his chest. "THIS ISN'T FAIR! You could've at least WARNED ME, YOU DAMN GOD!"
Yamamoto's laughter rumbled above, shaking the void like thunder. "Survive the fall, young one. This is your true beginning."
Kaito gritted his teeth. "Damn it—this god really is cruel!" he roared, his words spilling out in a mix of anger and disbelief. He expected the crushing impact of the world below, bones shattering, life cut short before it could even restart. Yet… as he plummeted, a radiant circle of glowing runes appeared beneath him.
The god descended alongside, but at a calm, unhurried pace, robes fluttering as if gravity meant nothing to him. With a casual flick of his hand, Yamamoto cast a barrier. A dome of golden light spread around Kaito, enveloping him like a second skin. The runes spun faster, weaving a protective shield that dulled the winds and slowed his fall.
Kaito's eyes widened, awe sparking in their depths. "Th… this is—magic." His voice trembled, not from fear but from sheer exhilaration. The sight before him was something he had only ever seen on glowing monitors, in polished animations, or as pixelated skills in his favorite RPGs. Yet now, it was real. Living, breathing magic wrapped around him, every sigil humming with power. "I can't believe it… I'm actually seeing it… with my own eyes."
Yamamoto's deep chuckle followed him down. "So you finally feel it, do you? The thrill of possibility. Good. But remember, boy—magic is not a toy. It is the foundation of this world."
Kaito clenched his fists, eyes blazing with renewed fire. "If this is real… if I can touch it… then I'll master it. No matter what it takes."
The god landed effortlessly beside him on a floating ledge of light. For a moment, he studied Kaito like a craftsman inspecting a curious blade. His voice shifted into something heavier, more deliberate. "Listen carefully, Kaito. You may not be welcomed as a hero. Not yet. The gods of this realm do not sense your true strength. They may doubt you. They may summon others from your world—humans like you who appear blessed, chosen. That is their way."
Kaito's lips twisted into a smirk. He tilted his chin upward, golden hair framing his sharp face. "That doesn't matter. I don't care about titles. Hero, chosen, savior—none of it means anything to me."
"Oh?" Yamamoto raised an eyebrow.
"All I want," Kaito continued, his voice low, steady, and cold with resolve, "is to become strong. To fight. To feel that rush. To chase the satisfaction that no game could ever give me. That's enough."
For the first time, Yamamoto exhaled heavily, almost like a sigh. His cosmic aura flickered slightly, betraying his amusement and resignation. "You mortals… always chasing strength. Very well. If strength is what you seek, then walk the path you choose. But hear me: do not bring calamity to this world. Do not forget, you are but a visitor."
Kaito folded his arms. "Yeah, yeah. I'll keep your precious world in one piece. Probably."
The god shook his head, muttering under his breath, "This boy will be trouble."
The protective magic slowed Kaito's descent until, at last, his boots touched solid ground. Before him stretched a breathtaking horizon. Rolling fields of emerald grass swayed under a sapphire sky. Beyond the plains, rivers shimmered like liquid crystal, and mountains loomed in the distance, capped with snow that glistened like diamonds. Strange birds circled in the skies, their wings carrying a faint glimmer of mana. The air itself tasted alive, fresh, heavy with unseen energy.
Yamamoto pointed toward the horizon, his voice booming like a bell. "There. Beyond those hills lies Avalon—the kingdom of humanity, a great bastion in this realm. It will be your first destination."
Kaito followed the line of the god's finger. In the distance, just faintly, he could see it: spires of white stone rising proudly against the horizon, banners fluttering in the wind, and walls encircling a city that gleamed under the sun. Avalon. It looked like something straight out of one of his RPGs—a capital city, the hub where every journey began.
The sight stirred something inside him. Curiosity. Anticipation. Hunger.
"So that's it," Kaito murmured. "My first checkpoint."
"Indeed," Yamamoto said. "Go to Avalon. Learn. Adapt. But remember: the other gods watch closely. They may summon others like you at any time. Rivals. Enemies. Allies. You will not be the only piece placed upon this board."
Kaito gave a short laugh. "The more, the better. Games are always more fun when there are competitors."
Yamamoto shook his head again, though a faint smile tugged at his lips. "You truly are incorrigible."
The golden aura around the god began to fade, his form becoming translucent, as if dissolving into the air. "This is where I leave you, Kaito Arisawa. Your path begins now."
Kaito gave a small nod, his expression sharp, determined. "Thanks. For the barrier. And the push." He glanced once more toward Avalon. "I'll make this world my stage."
With a final wave, Yamamoto vanished into motes of light, his voice echoing in the distance: "Do not disappoint me."
Kaito stood alone now, wind brushing against his blonde hair, eyes fixed on the city ahead. He tightened his fists, feeling the hum of magic in the air around him. His lips curved into the faintest smirk. "Avalon, huh? Let's see what you've got."