Somewhere in Japan.
Morning sunlight trickled through the rows of trees, a thin veil of dew still lingering over a city not yet fully awake.
In the park, stretched across a stone bench, a lone figure lay fast asleep. The rays pierced his eyelids, making him squint before slowly opening his eyes to the calm, endless blue sky.
"Yaaawn…" Kagami sat up, scratching his head, his face still dazed and groggy. With a lethargic mumble, he muttered:
"Damn it… don't tell me… I really transmigrated again?"
He frowned, tousled his hair, then bent down to pick up a jacket left on the bench. With a careless swing, he draped it over his shoulders. His steps wobbled slightly as he stood, stretching with a weary sigh.
Inside, his thoughts were tangled beyond repair. From someone with a home, an identity, a life—now reduced to nothing more than a drifter cast into a strange world. Defeated by Ohma Zi-O, killed, and then thrown here. What kind of science could even explain this?
"Well… guess I'll adapt." Kagami forced a crooked smile and walked along the park's paved path.
But after only a few steps, the scenery suddenly shifted. The birdsong, the smell of fresh grass—all vanished. In their place stretched an endless white void.
In the blink of an eye, towering walls of books erupted from the emptiness, rising higher and farther than the eye could see, stacked upon one another without end.
Yes—Saito Kagami had once again stepped into the realm that only he and Philip could reach: the Gaia Library.
The archive that housed all knowledge, all data, all truths of the Earth, bound into the form of books.
Kagami rolled his neck, loosened his shoulders, and walked up to a shelf. His gloved fingers slid across the spines, finally stopping at a weathered volume. He pulled it out, flipped through a few pages, his eyes drifting lazily across the lifeless lines of text.
"…Hmm."
Closing it, he slid the book back into its place. His footsteps echoed in the void as he moved toward the open space at the very heart of the archive, where a pale light shone down from above, illuminating the center.
Drawing in a deep breath, Kagami raised his voice:
"Keyword: Information about this world."
At once, the void trembled. The towering shelves all shifted at once, like tens of thousands of gears grinding into motion. The thunder of wood scraping against wood reverberated endlessly, until finally, everything collapsed inward and vanished—leaving only a single monumental bookshelf standing tall before him.
Kagami stepped forward, drew out a thick tome glowing faintly with light, and flipped it open. Instantly, words surged into his vision.
---
[Basic Information: The Nasuverse]
This world operates under the concept of the Root (Akasha)—a primordial flow that contains all knowledge, past, present, and future. All thaumaturgy, all mysteries, and all laws ultimately trace back to it.
Thaumaturgy (Magecraft): not mere "magic tricks," but supernatural science used to reproduce natural phenomena. Each Magus belongs to a Family, inheriting its Crest, its Origin, and its Magical Circuits.
Heroic Spirits: heroes, demons, and deities once existing in history, preserved as "soul data" within the Throne of Heroes. When summoned through the Holy Grail Ritual, they manifest as Servants.
Holy Grail War: a rite that summons seven Servants and seven Masters to compete for the "omnipotent wish-granting device." In truth, it is a convoluted system, manipulated by many forces, steeped in secrets and peril.
Major Powers:
Mage's Association: headquartered in London, controlling the study and regulation of magecraft.
Holy Church: a religious organization tasked with eradicating phenomena beyond humanity, including rogue Magi and stray Servants.
Alaya and Gaia: the two Counter Forces—the collective wills of Humanity (Alaya) and the Earth (Gaia), existing to safeguard survival and balance.
---
Kagami's grip on the book tightened.
"…So that's it. A world running on the façades of science, religion, and magic—but in truth, all strings pulled by colossal wills beyond mankind's reach."
He closed the tome, tilted his head, and let out a hoarse chuckle:
"Figures… every damn place I land in is a deathtrap."
Sliding the book back, the void trembled again, collapsing into white—and then, the familiar scenery of the park returned.
Kagami twisted a lock of hair, eyes drifting as though talking to himself:
"…This worldview feels… familiar somehow. Like I've seen it somewhere before."
He shook his head with a sigh.
"Whatever… first things first—breakfast."
Dragging himself up, one hand rubbing his stomach, the other pulling out his wallet—only for his heart to seize the moment he looked inside.
Empty. Not a bill, not even a coin. Just the cold, mocking draft of poverty.
Saito Kagami froze, hand pressed to his chest, face tilted to the sky with hollow eyes:
"Should I… follow Tsukasa-senpai's path and freeload at a photo studio? Or copy Eiji-senpai, wander the world with nothing but a pair of boxers…?"
A stream of "tragic futures" flashed across his mind. Kagami violently shook his head, banishing the cursed thoughts.
"No way! With all my survival experience from Tokusatsu… I'll do it the old-fashioned way—scavenging coins from vending machines!"
And so began Kagami's "great survival enterprise." He prowled the streets, crouching low, hands darting into vending machine slots. To passersby he looked like a vandal—yet in truth, he was "panning for gold."
After a sweaty morning, he gathered a glittering handful of coins. Eyes shining, he bolted straight into a convenience store.
Minutes later, Kagami sat on the curb, a steaming bento and a chilled soda in hand. As he dug in with chopsticks, his face lit up like a man who'd just reclaimed his life.
"Yoho~! Another day survived!"
After finishing the bento, Kagami dusted his hands and strolled lazily along the paved walkway. He scanned his surroundings, trying to spot anything that differed from the Japan he knew in his original world or in the Tokusatsu one.
Result? Exactly the same.
Cars still jostled for room, neon signs still burned bright, people still hurried about. No monsters bursting out to wreck the streets, no Dai-Shocker lying in wait.
Kagami shrugged and muttered, "Only difference is… over there some lunatic in a monster suit jumps out every other day. This place is way too quiet."
His feet carried him to a plaza. A long line of people queued neatly in front of a convoy of vehicles. Loudspeakers called for humanitarian blood donations; doctors and nurses bustled, checking, recording, guiding donors through the process.
Kagami squinted and scratched his chin. "Oh? Blood donation…"
A twisted thought flickered through his mind: "I wonder if they'd accept blood from a half-cyber like me?"
After a few seconds' hesitation he shrugged and headed for the registration table. A young staffer smiled and handed him a form. Kagami sloppily wrote a few characters, then followed the directions to the phlebotomy station.
A cold needle pierced his vein. Blood flowed out, dark red, but under the fluorescent light it had a faint, ghostly hint of blue. The medical tech frowned slightly and leaned in to inspect, but then simply wrote it down and said nothing.
Kagami propped his chin on his hand and gave a dry smile. "Whatever. At least I did something good. If they notice anything odd about my blood… well, it'll probably be too late by then."
Dusk stained Shinjuku red. People came and went, all hurrying along their own paths. Kagami melted into the crowd, a bag of snacks dangling from his left hand, an old phone in his right, eyes glued to the screen.
Distracted, he didn't notice a black car tailing him. The street was noisy—nobody looked twice.
Screech!
Tires screamed. A car door flew open. In an instant, men in black suits leapt out, movements sharp and practiced. They grabbed Kagami, pinned his arms and legs, and threw him into the vehicle.
"Hey! Fuck—this again! I've seen this script before!" Kagami's eyes bulged as he shouted, but he was forced down into the seat, ropes biting into his wrists.
The car peeled away. Passersby walked on, oblivious.
Kagami ground his teeth and cursed under his breath: "In broad daylight and no one notices? Damn it—this is exactly like Dai-Shocker back then! Why the hell am I getting kidnapped again?!"
He looked them over. The men in suits were ordinary—no monstrous aura, no mutations. No drivers, no energy fields. Just humans—but clearly part of a large, clandestine organization.
Kagami narrowed his eyes, took a deep breath, and decided: "Fine. I'll play dumb this once. Let's see who these bastards are. Then I'll tear them apart from the inside out."
---
Far to the north, where the wind cut like blades and snow buried the horizon until sky and ground blurred into one, stood a colossal horseshoe-shaped fortress, completely isolated from the outside world.
This was the Organization for the Preservation of Human Order — Finis Chaldea.
A citadel that was both observation post and top-secret laboratory, where great magi and scholars gathered to monitor human history and the flow of time itself, ensuring that the "flame of mankind" would never be snuffed out.
Inside, in a sealed chamber, Kagami lounged on a chair. His legs stretched across the desk, fingers idly weaving string tricks to kill time. He pursed his lips, emerald eyes lazily sweeping across the sterile metal walls and the steady beeping of machines.
Almost a full day had passed since he was brought here. Kagami hadn't struggled or caused trouble—only watched quietly. From scraps of knowledge in the Gaia Library, he already had the gist: Chaldea wasn't entirely evil. But their methods? Not much different from the underworld—philanthropy on the outside, ruthless tricks within.
"At least it's not Dai-Shocker 2.0…" he muttered, lips curling into a dry smirk.
Clack.
The door opened. A figure entered—tall, slim, wearing a white lab coat. Strawberry-blonde hair was tied neatly in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. His aquamarine eyes were gentle as a still pond, and his faint smile carried an oddly reassuring warmth.
He set a folder on the desk, then extended his hand toward Kagami, voice warm:
"Apologies for keeping you waiting so long. Allow me to introduce myself—Romani Archaman, Head of the Medical Department here at Chaldea."
Kagami froze for a moment, then let out a short, mocking huff. He reached out, his handshake firm and just a bit rough:
"Saito Kagami. Homeless, unemployed. Likes convenience-store bread, hates getting kidnapped in broad daylight."
Romani stiffened slightly, the smile on his lips faltering. He scratched his cheek, eyes shifting aside as though hiding something.
"My apologies… Chaldea's recruitment methods are… how to put it… a little unorthodox."
Kagami narrowed his eyes, a wave of contempt rising in his head.
"Yeah, unorthodox my ass… more like mafia-style."
He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed, voice lazy but edged with suspicion:
"Fine then. Give me a damn good reason. Why'd you people bother kidnapping a homeless nobody like me?"
Romani sighed, finally realizing he had no choice but to explain. He pulled a chair and sat across from Kagami, his gaze turning serious:
"Chaldea exists for one purpose: to safeguard human history from extinction. We monitor the flow of human order and time. When an anomaly is detected, we need individuals capable of Rayshift—sending their souls across time to repair distortions. But…"
He paused, eyes locking on Kagami:
"Not everyone can withstand Rayshift. The body must meet the conditions, and the soul must be incredibly resilient. Normal people—even magi—usually disperse and collapse the moment Rayshift activates."
Kagami raised an eyebrow, mildly intrigued:
"Huh, sounds like a system bugged teleportation."
Romani gave a weak smile, then lowered his voice:
"But you… are different. When our staff analyzed your blood, Chaldea detected magical energy unlike anything in this world. It doesn't conform to any system here—yet it remains strangely stable. Even your soul was evaluated as… 'far more robust than standard human limits.'"
He flipped open the folder on the desk, turning it so Kagami could see. Graphs of energy readings and soul-wave charts, all spiking beyond red-alert thresholds, filled the pages.
"With those conditions, the Council decided… you have full potential to adapt to Rayshift. That qualifies you as a candidate Master for Chaldea."
Kagami's mouth twitched, eyes torn between disbelief and annoyance:
"The hell… so just because I donated blood, you people drag me off for time-travel experiments? You realize how much more mafia this sounds, right?"
Romani chuckled awkwardly, raising a hand in apology:
"I know, I know… I don't agree with this coercive method either. But the truth is—the world is stepping into an unstable age. The flame of mankind wavers. We need every capable person we can get… including you."
Kagami leaned his cheek on his hand, a spark of interest flashing in his eyes. Inwardly he thought:
"Rayshift, repairing history? …Sounds like one of those big main-story missions. Well, at least it beats being a starving homeless guy outside."
"So if I join, what's my job? How's the pay? Food and lodging? Do I get insurance? A dorm room?"
He spoke lazily, words rolling out as if this were a casual job interview—rather than mankind's survival at stake.
Romani stiffened. His eyelid twitched, the smile on his lips almost collapsing. Deep down, he wanted to scream:
"For god's sake! A normal person hears 'the extinction of humanity' and trembles—why do you sound like you're applying at a damn convenience store?!"
Clearing his throat, he forced himself to stay polite:
"Your main job will be entering Rayshift and resolving anomalies in human history. In other words… you'll be fighting."
Kagami crossed his arms, nodding like an HR applicant listening to work policies:
"Mm, go on."
Romani grimaced, continuing:
"As for lodging—of course, Chaldea has dormitories. You'll be assigned a private room with full amenities. As for money…"
He coughed, eyes darting aside:
"We're… a non-profit organization. The salary isn't high, but you'll get living allowances, food, and comprehensive medical care. Insurance… if you count 'death coverage,' then yes, technically."
Kagami leaned back in his chair, arms spread wide, as if he'd just heard he won the lottery:
"Mm, guess I can live with that. At least it's better than starving in an alley."
Romani could only give a wry smile, cursing silently in his head:
"Is this guy insanely tough—or just plain insane?"
Before the air could settle, the door suddenly slammed open with a BANG. A girl with platinum hair and amber eyes strode in, her black coat flaring behind her. Her presence was sharp, commanding, cold as ice.
Her voice rang out, brooking no argument:
"Saito Kagami, from this moment, you are officially a candidate Master of Chaldea!"
Romani rubbed his temples with a long sigh:
"That's… Olga Marie Animusphere, our Director. If she's made the declaration, you can forget about running away."
Olga Marie lifted her chin, her aura of authority filling the room:
"Saito Kagami, from this moment forward, you are a Master candidate of Chaldea. This is an order. No objections allowed!"
Kagami lounged back in his chair, legs still propped on the desk, tearing open a snack pack he'd pulled from his bag of goodies. He crunched loudly, eyes lifting lazily to the girl—looking for all the world like a delinquent student dragged into the principal's office.
"So… a candidate Master, huh? Do I get a work contract? A three-month probation period? Oh, and one more thing—are there overtime hours? If so, do I get paid extra?"
Romani nearly choked, flailing his hands:
"K-Kagami-kun, this isn't some normal company, this is—"
"Shhh." Kagami pressed a finger to his lips, face dead serious like a philosopher.
"Listen, no matter where you work, you gotta look out for labor rights. If I join you guys and end up dying mid-mission, who's gonna cover my funeral expenses?"
Olga Marie's face flushed purple. She slammed her hand down on the desk with a BANG:
"Do you have any idea where you are?! We fight to protect the future of humanity! There's no such thing as 'overtime pay,' 'benefits,' or 'funeral coverage' here!"
Kagami shrugged, muttering under his breath just to rile her up:
"Ahh… so basically 'sell your life for free.' Man, that's way too familiar—sounds just like those Rider senpais from the last world."
Beside them, Romani clutched his head, screaming inwardly:
"God, please grant me emergency leave. I can't survive these two personalities colliding…"
Olga Marie inhaled sharply, her stern expression now bright red with fury:
"In short! Whether you like it or not, from today you will obey Chaldea's orders! The world has no time for your bargaining!"
Kagami leaned on his chin, eyes glinting mischievously:
"Sounds exactly like some MLM scam trying to rope me in. With this kind of talk, you should at least offer me free buffet lunch, no?"
The room went dead silent. Romani was at a loss for words. A vein bulged on Olga Marie's forehead as her fist clenched tight.
SLAM!
The director's hand came crashing down on the desk again.
"You—!!!"
The entire room shook. Kagami, unfazed, just kept munching his snack, smiling wide:
"Yeah yeah, little Director, I get it. I'll be your candidate Master. But make sure I get my own room, strong Wi-Fi, and three square meals a day."
Olga Marie: "…"
Romani: "…"
For a fleeting moment, Chaldea—the fortress carrying the survival of humanity on its shoulders—looked less like a secret organization and more like a shady company stuck interviewing the world's worst applicant.