Kageyama Akiha found himself standing inside an uncanny room—one that belonged to nothing he had ever seen before.
Moonlight poured like liquid silver across a vast stone chamber, cold and ancient. Four towering walls surrounded it, carved with symbols so intricate they hurt to look at for too long. Chains thicker than tree trunks coiled through the air itself, binding the body of a slender girl upright at the chamber's center. They covered only the bare minimum—just enough to preserve modesty, yet not enough to spare Akiha's burning embarrassment.
The chains were not iron. They were something darker. Something alive—pulsing faintly, as if breathing.
The bounded girl was beautiful in a way that made Akiha's chest ache painfully.
Long flaxen hair spilled down her back and over her shoulders, glowing faintly, as though it were desperately trying to remind him of morning sunlight. Her skin was pale—unnaturally so—smooth as polished marble. Crimson eyes regarded him with an unsettling mixture of amusement and hunger, as if she had been waiting for him specifically.
"You finally came," she said.
Her voice was low and intimate, brushing against his ears like a warm breeze.
Akiha tried to speak. Nothing came out. His throat was dry—useless. He realized then that he couldn't move, either. His body remained frozen where it was, yet somehow he was standing before her, close enough to feel the cold radiating from the chains.
"I've been waiting for so long," she continued sweetly.
He could only swallow. He was stunned. Terrified. And yet—
Captivated.
She smiled, slow and knowing. "Do not be afraid… fragile thing."
As she tried reaching out to him, one of the chains tightened suddenly, biting into her wrist. Dark red blood welled where it pierced her skin. The sight twisted Akiha's stomach—not with disgust, but with something dangerously close to longing.
"Listen carefully," she said. "I am a primordial being that have been sealed for longer than your mind can even conceive. Buried beneath laws, vows, and fear. I need a hand that does not yet know it is holding a key."
Her gaze locked onto his.
"Free me from this bind that tortures me."
The words echoed—not in the chamber, but inside his mind.
"If you do," she continued softly, "I will give you my everything." Her lips curved upward. "Love that does not fade. Power that bends the world. Authority that makes others kneel without knowing why."
The chains rattled violently, as if protesting her promise.
"Bring me back my freedom," she whispered. "And I swear—I will be yours completely."
Before Akiha could even think to ask why him, she leaned forward. The ominous rattle of chains filled the chamber. The scent of iron and flowers invaded his nostrils, melting his senses. Her hand—cool, impossibly gentle—cupped the back of his neck.
Then sharp pain bloomed.
Her fangs pierced his skin—sharp, precise. Heat rushed through him, drowning thought, drowning fear. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as something was torn from him… and replaced by something else.
Something vast. Something dark. Something… intoxicating.
Her lips brushed his skin as she pulled back, blood dripping from the corner of her lustrous lips.
"I'll be waiting for you," she murmured.
The world shattered—
*BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.*
Akiha jolted upright in his bed, his hand flying to his neck. His fingers met unblemished skin, warm with sweat. His phone screamed beside his pillow, the alarm vibrating across the cheap mattress.
He slapped it silent and collapsed back onto the sheets, staring at the ceiling of his tiny Tokyo apartment.
"…What the hell was that dream?"
His heart still raced. The memory of her eyes—terrifying, captivating—refused to fade. He rubbed his neck again, half-expecting pain.
Nothing.
Just another weird dream.
He told himself that much. Probably stayed up too late gaming again.
Still—
Her words lingered.
"Free me…"
Akiha exhaled sharply and rolled out of bed before his thoughts could spiral further.
The morning passed in familiar, unremarkable fragments.
Hot water beat against his shoulders in the narrow bathroom as steam fogged the mirror. He brushed his teeth, staring at his reflection—messy black hair, tired eyes, painfully ordinary. He pulled on his school uniform, smoothing the wrinkles out of habit rather than care.
Breakfast was toast and a soft-boiled egg, eaten standing up while scrolling through the day's weather forecast.
Normal.
Comfortingly normal.
The walk to his high school followed the same streets he'd taken for over five years. Convenience stores lifting their shutters. Cyclists weaving through traffic. The smell of fresh bread from a bakery he never entered.
My life's about as exciting as an NPC's, he thought.
Go to school. Keep his head down. Answer only when called on.
After classes, he worked part-time at the used bookstore near the station, shelving old novels no one read anymore. Then home at 7pm. Games until sleep claimed him.
That was it.
That was his world.
The illusion shattered the moment he slid open the classroom door.
"Yo, Kageyama."
The voice was heavy. Lazy.
Three boys lounged near the windows, their uniforms worn wrong on purpose—ties loose, shirts untucked in practiced defiance. Their leader, Miyamoto Renji, grinned as Akiha stepped inside.
"Morning," Renji said, smiling without warmth. "You got our money, right?"
Akiha's shoulders stiffened. "I—I don't have it today."
Renji's smile sharpened. "Say that again, 'Chibiha.'"
Because of his small stature, Akiha was an easy target for this kind of treatment—weak. Convenient.
"I—I said I don't have it," Akiha clenched his fists. "I need it today. I'll give you double tomorrow, s-so please—"
"For what?" Sakurai Toma—one of Renji's goons—cut in impatiently. "More of those shitty games?"
The words slipped out before fear could stop them. "Y-Yeah. Actually."
Pain detonated in his abdomen.
Renji's knee slammed into him without warning. Akiha gasped, folding forward as the air was ripped from his lungs. Hands grabbed him—rough, efficient. His bag hit the floor, the zipper tearing open.
"Check everything," Renji said casually.
They did.
Wallet. Pockets. Even the small change compartment he'd forgotten about. Renji counted the bills with exaggerated care.
"Man," he sighed, "you really thought you could say no today?"
The boys laughed and walked away, money in hand.
The classroom stayed silent.
Desks occupied. Eyes averted.
No one said a word.
Akiha forced himself to get up and collapsed into his seat, vision swimming.
"Are you… okay, Aki-kun?"
He flinched at the sudden voice. Looking up, he saw Nakamura Fumika standing beside his desk. Plain cardigan over her uniform. Thick glasses. Long black hair cascading down her back. A girl so unassuming she practically faded into the background.
Sometimes I envy how invisible she is, he thought bitterly.
He forced a smile. "...Yeah. Totally fine."
She frowned. "They took everything again, didn't they?"
"Yeah. I kinda knew they would," he sighed.
He slumped forward, resting his face on his folded arms, and muttered under his breath so Renji wouldn't hear.
"I should've waited for the digital release. Or just not brought the money to school—" he bit his lower lips. "Why did I say it like I was the one in the wrong?"
His voice trembled—not with fear, but with something heavier.
"His family's rich as hell, right? Don't his parents give him enough allowance already?" His fingers dug into his sleeves. "I need two weeks of shifts to earn that money. Two damn weeks! And because his grandpa's the principal, the teachers won't do a damn thing."
He let out a bitter laugh.
"Life's just unfair. I hope he just gets isekai'd with the worst skill imaginable and gets beaten to death by the first goblin he encountered."
"I'm… sorry," Fumika said softly. "I couldn't do anything."
"Don't apologize—and don't even think about helping me," he said lightly, though his chest burned. "You'd just become their next target." He snorted. "Guess… I'm not playing the new game on release. Tragic, really."
"You know, Aki-kun…" she began hesitantly.
"What?" His voice was muffled against his arms.
"I actually got an early copy for a sponsored stream. If you want, you could come over and—"
Before she could finish her sentence, the world lurched.
A deep, bone-rattling tremor shook the classroom. Desks slid violently. Girls screamed.
A glowing circle carved itself into the air above the floor, abstract lines of light spinning faster and faster.
Doors slammed shut.
Windows sealed with blinding radiance.
Panic erupted.
"What's happening?!"
"Is this an earthquake?!"
"Why won't the door open?!"
Even Renji looked terrified.
The circle flared—
—and the classroom vanished with it.