"A world without magic, without miracles. A civilization stalled at the technological threshold of 2015. The only thing this planet has going for it is a handful of high school students favored by fate. And in a few years, space itself will tear open to let the Abyss devour everything in its path."
"And now, you're telling me: 'Jude, I am the Core of this world. I found you just as my strength failed. I have dissolved my own consciousness and left all my remaining energy to you. I hope you can look after my children in my stead.'"
"You have to be kidding me."
Inside the shifting, iridescent expanse of the Core Space, Jude's hand trembled as he pulled off his glasses. They slipped from his numb fingers, hitting the instruction manual with a sharp, hollow clack.
In a multiverse of gods and monsters, this world was a drop of water in a desert. Taking this mantle felt less like becoming a god and more like being appointed the captain of a sinking ship. If the original consciousness of the planet couldn't find a way out, what could a mere interloper like him do?
He paused, his eyes narrowing behind the reflection of the glowing screens. Wait. There might be a gamble worth taking.
The final records left by the Core outlined three critical truths:
First, the remaining energy was absolute within the confines of the planet. It could hijack global networks, engineer biological life, or even force a resurgence of forgotten powers. But the grander the scale, the faster the energy would burn out.
Second, the "favored" individuals of this world were not special because of luck. Their latent will and potential were so vast that the universe itself couldn't help but take notice. They were anchors. If he could trigger their cosmic resonance through intense emotional catalysts, the resulting power could bridge the gap between realities.
Third, the encroaching Abyss was thinning the walls between dimensions. This planet was currently drifting past other worlds. If the Core had more energy, it would have dragged another world into the fray to serve as a shield. Any world—no matter how savage—was a better alternative than the absolute nothingness of the Abyss.
Jude realized that the stories he knew from his past—the "fictions"—were actually psychic echoes from these neighboring dimensions.
The pieces clicked into place. Survival meant expansion. He didn't just need one shield; he needed an army of worlds to push back the void.
"Brute force is a waste of energy," Jude whispered, his fingers dancing across the conceptual interface. "But if I can get the 'Anchors' to cooperate... if I can make them the catalysts..."
He looked at the dwindling power reserves and gritted his teeth. He began to scan the nearest dimensions, his senses catching onto fragments of familiar information.
He froze. "I know these names. This is..."
It was a world he remembered vividly. A place of deep-seated cruelty and ancient systems, yet brimming with terrifying power. The central figure of that world's story hadn't even appeared yet.
Jude felt no personal malice toward the boy who was supposed to be the hero there. But for the sake of Earth's survival, he was going to hijack that destiny entirely.
He recalled the narrative, made several cold adjustments, and withdrew his consciousness to strike at the global network.
"Don't let me down—Hachiman Hikigaya."
Dusk settled over the city, the orange glow reflecting off the glass of a local Lawson convenience store.
Hachiman Hikigaya stopped dead in the aisle as Yukino Yukinoshita walked through the door. Running into her during a mundane grocery run was the last thing he wanted. The air between them had been heavy for days, ever since the messy fallout of the Service Club's last request.
Just stay quiet. Slide out the back. Don't make eye contact.
But the plan failed before it began. Yukino stood there, her eyes widening in a rare moment of genuine shock, staring directly at him.
"Gu..."
"Yo—"
Hachiman's awkward greeting was cut short.
The television mounted above the refrigerated drinks flickered violently. The screen hissed with static before switching to a stark, black background. Bold, white text began to scroll across the screen.
[Does life exist only on this tiny, fragile Earth?]
[Is your ordinary life a given, or a miracle on loan?]
[The connection has been made. Welcome to the absurd reality.]
In that same heartbeat, every screen on the planet—phones, laptops, billboards—switched to the same feed. And there, centered in the frame, was Hachiman Hikigaya himself.
"..." Yukino's voice was small, filled with confusion. "Did you... go off and film a movie, Hikigaya-kun?"
Hachiman was speechless. "Of course not! What the hell is this?"
[The sun dips below the horizon. Hachiman Hikigaya walks with a hollow gaze. Inside the Lawson, Yukino Yukinoshita looks down, her eyes veiled in sorrow. She seems to have something to say, a hesitation in her step, before she finally looks up and rushes toward the door.]
[At that exact moment, Hachiman's silhouette vanishes into thin air. He is gone.]
"That store... that's right here, isn't it?"
Hachiman felt a chill settle in his bones. He looked at Yukino, and for once, she looked just as terrified as he felt. No technology could fake a broadcast this perfect, especially not one featuring them in the exact clothes they were wearing.
On the screen, the camera angle shifted.
[Hachiman Hikigaya appears in the middle of a bustling street. No one around him seems to notice his sudden arrival.]
[The street is foreign, medieval, and strange. Hachiman stands clutching his plastic shopping bag, spinning around in confusion. All around him are massive, beast-like demi-humans. Their voices are a roar of unrecognizable tongues, yet, strangely, he understands every word.]
["Eh... another world?" After a momentary flash of shock, Hachiman's signature dead-fish eyes sharpen. He frowns, remains silent, and immediately retreats into a cluster of humans. He keeps his head low, crouching by the roadside while his eyes scan the environment with the clinical precision of a veteran spy. He is unnervingly calm, blending into the background with practiced ease.]
Watching his own "future" self operate with such cold efficiency, Hachiman felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck. If I actually ended up there... that's exactly what I would do.
Was the whole world watching his future?