Chapter 1: The Chat That Shouldn't Exist (Haruto POV)
It started long before the notification ever appeared, before the system formed, before the connection between worlds even stabilized, because Haruto noticed the flaw before anything else could. It wasn't something loud or destructive, not a tear in space or a distortion in time, but something quieter, something far more subtle—a misalignment in the structure of existence itself. It was the kind of inconsistency that most beings would never perceive, not because it was hidden, but because they lacked the ability to recognize something that existed outside the rules they were bound to. Haruto wasn't.
From where he stood, reality had always been thin. Not fragile, not weak, but transparent, like a surface that could be peeled back if you understood where to look. The laws that governed existence, the systems that dictated power, the boundaries that separated worlds—none of them felt absolute to him anymore. They were frameworks, nothing more. Functional. Replaceable. And most importantly, flawed.
That was why he noticed it.
Something had been inserted into the structure beneath reality, not incorrectly, but incompletely. It wasn't part of the world he stood in, nor did it belong to any other he had observed. It existed in between—an unfinished construct, abandoned or perhaps never fully realized. It didn't attempt to hide. It didn't even attempt to function properly. It simply lingered, like a broken mechanism still trying to operate without understanding why it could not.
And Haruto recognized it instantly.
Because this wasn't the first time something like this had appeared before him.
The memory surfaced without effort, not as something distant, but as something permanently etched into his existence. It was the moment everything first changed, when the system that once governed him failed to calculate something as simple as a roll. It should have been insignificant, a basic function producing a predictable outcome, but instead, reality itself hesitated. The result never properly formed. The system stalled, recalculated, and failed again. And when it finally produced something, it wasn't power, or an item, or anything that could be defined.
It was a concept.
Something unregistered.
Something beyond system authority.
At the time, Haruto hadn't needed to understand it. The moment it merged with him, understanding became unnecessary. Systems stopped being absolute. Boundaries stopped being meaningful. The idea of authority—of something existing above him and dictating his limits—collapsed entirely. In its place, something new formed. Not power in the traditional sense, but awareness. The ability to perceive the underlying structure of existence and recognize where it could be altered.
That was when he first saw the threads.
They weren't visible, not in any physical sense, but they were undeniable once perceived. Connections that ran beneath everything, linking systems, worlds, and rules together in ways that no normal being could comprehend. They weren't energy. They weren't matter. They were closer to permissions—conditions that dictated what could connect, what could interact, and what must remain separate.
And one of those threads—
Was broken.
Not recently, not violently, but completely. It wasn't frayed or damaged. It had simply… stopped functioning. Something had attempted to create a connection between worlds and failed to contain it. The result wasn't destruction, nor was it erased.
It was abandoned.
A system without an owner.
A function without control.
A structure that existed without purpose.
Haruto hadn't searched for it.
It had failed to hide from him.
When he first encountered it, it didn't react. It didn't recognize him. It didn't even attempt to process his presence. It simply existed in a dormant state, incomplete and unstable, as though waiting for something it would never receive. For most beings, it would have remained unreachable, something beyond interaction, locked behind rules that prevented access.
Those rules didn't apply to him.
He didn't break them.
He didn't overpower them.
He simply removed them.
[Skill: Conceptual Interference]
The moment he did, the system reacted—not intelligently, not consciously, but structurally. It attempted to stabilize, to complete itself, to reassert the purpose it had been created for. It failed. But failure, in this case, wasn't an end. It was an adjustment.
The system activated.
Partially.
Incorrectly.
But enough.
Enough to begin searching.
Enough to initiate function.
It reached outward, not physically, but through those same invisible threads that connected everything beneath reality. It didn't choose randomly. It didn't connect blindly. It selected.
Not based on location.
Not based on compatibility.
But based on weight.
Existence.
Significance.
It pulled at individuals who stood at the peak of their worlds, beings whose presence carried influence, whose power defined the limits of their reality. Not because they were the strongest in an absolute sense, but because they were recognized by their systems as important.
Haruto watched it happen.
And he didn't stop it.
Because he understood what it was becoming.
Not a system.
Not a tool.
But a platform.
A connection point.
Something that could link worlds that were never meant to interact.
And now—
It had finished.
The interface appeared in front of him, translucent and silent, hovering at eye level as if it had always been there. It carried no energy, no presence, no indication of how it existed. It simply functioned.
Haruto looked at it.
Then reached out.
There was no resistance.
The message appeared.
You have been added to [Multiverse Group Chat].
He didn't react.
Because this wasn't an invitation.
It was confirmation.
The system had completed its search.
And now it was stabilizing—
Around him.
His awareness brushed against it once more, not forcefully, but enough to confirm what he already knew.
[Skill: Conceptual Analysis]
The system attempted to respond.
Data began to form—
Then collapsed.
Unreadable.
Incomplete.
Haruto stopped.
There was nothing left to learn from it.
So instead—
He observed.
Voices appeared.
Legal Wife: Whoever is responsible for this, show yourself. You are interfering in my territory.
Authority.
Confidence.
Expectation of control.
Then—
A pause.
"…Legal Wife?"
The tone shifted slightly.
Legal Wife: Explain this designation.
'Irritation. Controlled.'
Next—
The Honored One: A multiverse group chat? I've gotta admit… this is kind of impressive.
Then—
The Honored One: Did this thing just rename me?
A pause.
"…The Honored One, huh?"
Then—
The Honored One: I mean… not wrong.
'Amusement. Confidence.'
Then—
[Nightmare]: Fufu… connecting different worlds so easily. How fascinating.
A pause followed.
[Nightmare]: Ara ara…
"…Nightmare?"
A soft laugh.
[Nightmare]: What a fitting name.
'Acceptance. Interest.'
And finally—
[Saber]: If this is manipulation, then reveal your intent.
A pause.
"…Why am I the only one without such a title?"
Direct.
Logical.
Unemotional.
Haruto finished observing.
Then—
He chose to act.
The system did not detect him until he allowed it to.
User [Unknown] has joined the chat.
The moment it appeared—
The connection shifted.
Subtly.
But undeniably.
Legal Wife: …Something just changed.
The Honored One: Yeah… I felt that.
[Nightmare]: Oh my… how exciting.
[Saber]: …This presence.
Silence followed.
Not empty.
Watching.
Waiting.
Haruto let it stretch.
Then—
He spoke.
Shadow Monarch {Admin}: So this is the Multiverse Group Chat.
The system reacted immediately.
It destabilized.
Not completely—
But enough.
System Notice: Entity [Haruto] status cannot be fully evaluated.
Warning: Presence exceeds standard dimensional limits.
Warning: Authority conflict detected.
The interface flickered.
Struggled.
Attempted to correct itself.
Failed.
The others responded.
Legal Wife: …You. Who are you?
The Honored One: Now this is interesting. Even this thing can't read you?
[Nightmare]: Ara ara… you're not normal at all, are you?
[Saber]: Identify yourself.
Haruto read each message once.
That was enough.
They were trying to define him.
To categorize him.
To understand him within their own frameworks.
That wouldn't work.
So he gave them the simplest answer possible.
Silence followed.
Heavier than before.
Then—
A pause.
Legal Wife: …You gave us these names?
The Honored One: Yeah, I was about to ask that.
[Nightmare]: Oh? Was it you?
[Saber]: Answer clearly.
Haruto didn't respond.
Because the answer didn't matter.
Instead—
The system shifted.
At the very top—
[Admin: Shadow Monarch]
Below—
Their names remained.
Unchanged.
Unremovable.
That alone—
Was the answer.
The Honored One: …So it wasn't manual.
[Nightmare]: Fufu… how interesting.
[Saber]: Then the system assigned them.
'Incorrect.'
But Haruto didn't correct them.
Because understanding wasn't necessary.
Instead—
He reached out once more.
Not to analyze.
Not to interfere.
But to confirm.
[Skill: Authority Override]
The system froze.
For less than a second.
But it happened.
And they noticed.
Legal Wife: …Did it just—
The Honored One: Yeah. It lagged.
[Nightmare]: Oh my…
[Saber]: That was not normal.
Haruto stopped.
Because that was enough.
They had seen it.
Felt it.
Recognized that something had just occurred—
That shouldn't have been possible.
He leaned back slightly, gaze steady, expression unchanged.
To them—
This was an anomaly.
A mystery.
Something to question.
To him—
It was already his.
Because from the very beginning—
The moment he found it—
The moment he removed its restrictions—
The system had already made its choice.
Not them.
Not itself.
But him.
And whether they realized it or not—
This "Multiverse Group Chat"—
Was never random.
It was a broken system.
An abandoned function.
Something that should have remained incomplete.
Until he found it.
Until he removed its limits.
Until he allowed it to exist.
And now—
It no longer belonged to nothing.
It belonged—
To him.
—
Word Count: 1,557