Gate Opening

[Edit: I posted this chapter, but for some reason it got deleted. I’m posting it again, and if this happens once more, please let me know if possible. I have no idea why this happened, and if any of you figure it out, please let me know as well.]

Here is the chapter. It was supposed to come out yesterday, but I had a few things I needed to sort out first. Sorry about that. I also didn't have much time to reply to the comments, but I'll do that tomorrow after I wake up.

If you'd like to read 3/7/13 chapters ahead, or simply support me, you can do so on my (P)(A)(T). If not, I still thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading my stories. Thank you very much!

I won't drag this out too much here. As always, good night everyone, and enjoy the chapter!

(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori.

[...]---[...]

POV: Devas Asura.

To be honest, I hadn't planned all this theatrics.

When I called the police, my goal was to grab Brandon and dump him next to the body to make things easier for them. But the moment the 911 call ended, a mission appeared right in front of me:

-//-

[The Seed of Doubt]

Rarity: WhiteWorld: Amalgam WorldTime limit: 30 minutes remaining for acceptance.

Mission Description:

Patrick Jane is a brilliant, broken, and deeply skeptical man. He built his life—and his obsessive quest for revenge against the serial killer Red John—on the unshakable belief that the supernatural is a sham.

To him, there are no psychics, no magic, no demons—only tricks and lies he himself is exceptionally good at using.

Prove him wrong.

Objective: Plant a seed of doubt in Patrick Jane's mind by performing something he cannot rationalize. Provide him with a direct means of contact and offer him what he desires most.

[NOTE: The mission will only be completed once he gives in to temptation and makes the call.]

Rewards: 50 Gold Coins, Unlock of the questline [The Red Smile], Information Update (CBI).

[..]

~ The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist… ~

-//-

Patrick Jane, The Mentalist.

I knew the show. I'd watched up to the middle of season three before taking a break—and never got back to it, for one reason or another.

Lack of time, if I remember correctly.

Even if it was just a "White" rarity mission and the rewards were basic, there was no reason not to do it. Especially since it was simple—and would tie into another questline later on, the [The Red Smile] missions.

Or rather, Red John—the name that would make Patrick call me in the future.

I knew he would.

No matter his skepticism or anything else, the rage inside him would make him dial the number on that black card.

I could see it. I could feel it. The hatred inside him. All the grief, all the fury.

I watched the CBI SUV drive away from the Proto-A's window.

If it meant killing Red John with his own hands, Patrick Jane would make a deal with the Devil himself…

[Archetype: The Devil — Synchronization +12%]

Lucky for him, the Devil he ran into was pretty reasonable—and offered discounts.

"They're kind of a cute couple," Jinn commented beside me. "Patrick and Lisbon, I mean. I like them."

"You got that from the little you saw?" I turned, starting to walk.

Jinn's footsteps followed right after.

"Uh-huh." She nodded. "It's obvious they like each other—you can see it in the way they look at each other. But they're both hesitant to take the first step."

She hummed softly before continuing.

"I'd say Lisbon—what's her name again?"

"Teresa."

"I'd say Teresa's the one who'll take the first step. Patrick is… angry. A focused man, but angry. As much as I can tell he likes her, he won't do anything until that anger fades."

("Or consumes him completely.") Ozma joined in. ("I've seen that look before—in good men and good women who lost what mattered most to them. He wants revenge.")

"Patrick isn't exactly what you'd call a good man… He's done morally questionable things before. He made a living deceiving people, manipulating them with his intelligence—taking advantage even of the innocent."

I recalled what I knew about him—and what I'd managed to piece together on my own.

Patrick wasn't a bad man either. Morally gray… that's where I'd place him. A darker shade of gray, leaning toward selfishness—but still gray.

"What happened?" Jinn asked beside me, leaning forward slightly with her hands behind her back, her face turned toward mine.

"He messed with something he shouldn't have. Provoked someone on national television… thinking it was just another game." I paused briefly. "It wasn't. He caught the attention of a serial killer."

The silence lingered for a moment.

"That man went after him… or rather, his family. When Patrick got home, he found his wife and daughter dead."

"Red John. The name—or rather, the alias—of the one who did it." I finished. "That's where the anger comes from."

"Well… that's more than enough to make someone hate deeply enough to strike a deal with the Devil," Jinn said after a few seconds of silence.

I gave her an ironic smile.

"Are you going to help him?" she asked.

"Depends—probably. But help him how?" I shot back. "Kill Red John? That's something I can do—and will."

I kept walking without looking at her.

"Now… as for his anger…" I shook my head slightly. "That's another story…"

After all, no matter what I did or said—no matter how much I helped—he wouldn't get better.

You can't help someone who doesn't want help to begin with… unless I literally lobotomized part of his mind or brainwashed him.

And the anger wasn't even his worst problem.

I could tie Red John up and throw him in front of Patrick—let him torture him for hours, days… and then finally kill him. Even then, even after all that, the guilt he carried wouldn't go away…

In the end, the person Patrick hated most wasn't anyone else…

It was himself.

[…]

The next few days were calmer than the first day in the Amalgam World.

Nothing like the events of that first day happened again. Even the few random missions I took were basic, involving no one important—unlike with John and Patrick.

During those two and a half days, I also took some time to go over the information Klein had sent me through private (CHAT).

He explained, in broad terms, how Spirit Vision worked, what kind of world he lived in, and what the hell these so-called Beyonders were.

And to be completely honest, the "3/10" rating he gave his situation was starting to feel generous.

From his description, Klein's world felt like Bloodborne had a bastard child with Dishonored—and that child turned out slightly unhinged.

Everything had that Victorian-era feel—gas lamps, carriages, revolvers, gentlemen in top hats… it was practically a checklist of clichés.

And the most curious part was that control over everything seemed to be in the hands of the Church.

Churches, actually—plural. Large and ancient institutions with an almost absolute monopoly over anything even remotely mystical—and responsible for damage control to keep the supernatural hidden from the public.

Honestly, it might've been a ménage à trois—maybe FATE was in there too.

Overall, the place made my skin itch.

And in the middle of all that, there were the Beyonders.

From what he told me—and he admitted he was still very new to it, having been there just over a week—their powers came from potions.

I'll admit, that part surprised me a little.

To become a Beyonder, you had to drink a potion made from monster remains, mystical plants, and who knows what else.

Wouldn't surprise me if human parts were involved at some point.

And the way they measured strength was through "sequences," starting from Sequence 9—the weakest, the starting point, where Klein was. He had a strange habit of bringing that up from time to time—for some reason—and then progressing downward to Sequence 1.

But like most things in life, there was a catch.

When you drank a potion, you didn't just gain powers—you also gained a few mental disorders. It varied from schizophrenia to borderline, bipolar disorder, and paranoia. Or all of them, depending on the person.

And you could lose control and turn into a monster too—a pretty ugly one—that was what was happening to Fors.

And once you took a potion, you couldn't switch "paths" or "pathways," which were basically the power progression each potion line followed.

Klein didn't know how many paths existed—only that they came from something called the Blasphemy Slate—but he did know the names of some Sequence 9s:

The ones he knew were: "Sleepless," "Mystery Pryer," and "Corpse Collector," which were the paths controlled by the Church of the Evernight Goddess.

"Sailor" and "Spectator," which belonged to Mr. Hanged Man and Miss Justice, respectively—both members of the tarot club Klein had invited Fors and me to earlier.

Lastly, his own pathway: "Seer."

The thing was, interestingly enough, I knew two pathways as well: "Apprentice" and "Marauder." I even knew the "Seer" pathway—before Klein ever told me about it.

It was some kind of instinctive knowledge that came along with the changes in my spiritual energy, my nightmare energy, and the "consciousness" awakening within the core of my spiritual energy—the "brain" of my soul.

Given that those changes came from my exposure to the environment above the gray fog, it was only natural to assume that place was somehow connected to those three pathways.

And since Klein was a "Seer," I went ahead and tried to warn him—along with mentioning the "consciousness" that likely existed within people of that world as well.

That's when I was stopped.

'Death. Danger.'

It came like an instinct born from my spirituality—and at the same time, a whisper from inside my mind. I didn't even need to look to know the whisper came from the "consciousness" in the "brain" of my soul.

If I spoke, Klein would be in danger. I knew that.

And it didn't happen just once.

Klein asked what my reaction had been to the "Moon" and "Mother" cards. When I tried to think of an answer in the private (CHAT)—that there was something deeply wrong there—that instinct and whisper came back, stronger.

'Depravity. Evil. Cancer. Rot. Outside. Filth. Corruption. Mother.'

The words hit my mind harder than before, and my entire spirituality recoiled in revulsion.

They carried such intense disgust that it almost became physical—to the point where my stomach twisted slightly and I felt like I might throw up.

It was like my earlier reaction to the "Mother" card—but amplified, fused with something deeper.

I felt that the "consciousness" had exhausted itself by manifesting so strongly, but it still made sure to warn me before sinking back into dormancy.

I knew that if I gave him that information—even partially, even just enough to make him think about what was wrong—Klein would end up dead. Or worse.

The image of him going insane and collapsing into a mass of flesh, blood, and genitals birthing horrific creatures in the middle of the street came to my mind as the consequence of him knowing that information.

Dying was probably the better option, in this case…

In the end, I had to seriously tell him to ignore it—to not think too deeply about it. Knowledge was a cancer, and in this case, I felt like that was literal.

It was like 'The Eye' all over again—only worse this time, somehow.

Fortunately, Klein was smart. He realized it was serious almost immediately and said he wouldn't ask about it again—or think about it.

After those two incidents—cementing just how terrifying Klein's world really was—things returned to normal, and he went back to explaining how Spirit Vision worked.

For Klein and the Beyonders he knew, Spirit Vision required a process and some kind of "trigger" to activate.

In his case, he had to focus his spirituality and lightly tap his glabella—the space between his eyebrows—twice, as the physical trigger he had set to "turn on" the vision.

From that point on, he could see the deeper layers of people—what he called the Etheric Body and the Astral Body.

Those colors I'd seen floating around people at the market—that was basically it.

He confirmed that intense red meant passion, anger, or lust; pale white meant fear or shock; blue indicated logical thinking and calm.

Things I had already been instinctively figuring out—but he gave me a full list of colors he'd learned from Old Neil, his mysticism teacher.

His Spirit Vision and mine were essentially the same. The only real difference was that I didn't need a trigger to activate mine.

That—and the fact that I could see and understand far more than Klein, thanks to several factors like Echo Humanitatis, my spiritual energy, my nightmare energy, and the Transparent World.

Another thing that caught my attention was how one advanced in sequence without going insane—Klein said you had to literally "digest" the potion.

Well, it was a potion. That made sense.

The problem was how to digest it—which was… surprising: "acting." Literally acting in accordance with the potion's name—in Klein's case, since he was a "Seer," he had to behave like one.

That alone wasn't what surprised me. Again, it even made a certain kind of sense. What caught me off guard was that it was basically the same as the stream update, where I also had to act as something.

I'd have to be an idiot to think that was just a coincidence.

The best theory I came up with, after thinking it over, was that the stream created that part of the update because Klein had joined it. Which actually made sense—the stream always seemed to adapt to me and the viewers in some way.

But that raised another question: which bastard was it…?

Which fucking bastard joined the (CHAT) and was responsible for adding the gacha roulette to my stream?!

[…]

It was close to eleven at night. We should've been… somewhere above the sea off the U.S. East Coast.

I didn't know exactly—and didn't care much.

Proto-A was stabilized, hovering about fifty meters above the water. I was sitting at the edge of the open entry ramp, fishing with the Chum Caster.

These past few days had been pretty relaxing, actually. Especially for my tired primate brain.

I was wearing simple clothes: shorts and a beach shirt, nothing on my feet. The suit was nice, but I preferred something more comfortable during my downtime.

When I felt the bait get hooked, I pulled the rod up—not with force. The line and rod could handle it, but the fish that bit couldn't.

It was a short struggle. Within seconds, I had a shark in my hands… again.

"Is it just these guys out here? What the hell?" I muttered, looking at the sandbar shark thrashing against the metal ramp.

I'd caught about fifty or more of these by now, which was starting to get annoying.

I knew it was because of the Chum Caster, which made it easier to attract fish—and also because of the blood on the fishing line. Sharks were far more easily drawn to blood, and they scared off other fish too.

But I wanted to catch something else!

Clicking my tongue, I pulled the shark closer and bit into its fin. I tore off a chunk shaped like my bite, chewing through skin, blood vessels, and tough cartilage before swallowing.

I dripped a few drops of a healing potion onto the bite so the wound would close. Only then did I remove the hook from its mouth and toss it back into the sea.

I made sure it wouldn't die from the fall, since it was a bit high. I lowered it with the black hands formed from my nightmare energy until it touched the water, then watched as it swam away, confused.

"And the biting is for what, exactly?" Jinn asked.

She was lying beside me, reading a book. It was about marine life—she said that since I was fishing, she might as well brush up on this world's sea creatures.

She wore a black bikini, her hair still wet. She'd gone for a swim earlier, playing among the sharks.

"Do you want the real answer, or should I make something up that sounds convincing enough to pass as one?" I asked back, casting the line again.

Jinn lowered the book, looking at me over the top of it, one eyebrow raised.

"Both. But give me the made-up one first. I like seeing how your mind works."

"I'm doing this so the Chalice can drink the sharks' blood and give me more knowledge through it—and also to collect blood samples from different animals, in case I ever want to convert one type of blood into another."

"It's actually something feasible." She nodded. "It's kind of true, isn't it?"

"Something like that." I shook my head, reeling the line back in again. "Another fucking shark…"

I bit into the great white's fin before healing it and tossing it back into the sea, just like I did with the last one.

"And the real answer?"

I chewed through the cartilage before swallowing and replying:

"I'm bored, and I think the mere possibility of marine researchers noticing that dozens of sharks in this area have human bite marks on their fins is incredibly funny."

I paused briefly. "That, and their cartilage tastes good."

I had already caught the sharks—the moment they bit the Chum Caster's bait, they were basically dead. Letting them go after just one bite was actually pretty kind of me.

[MoonPrincess]The way your little mind works is quite curious—and that's coming from someone who lives with yokai.

I stared at the message that appeared from within a bamboo scroll.

"Should I be offended?" I was a little offended—being compared to yokai was almost as bad as being compared to fae.

[MoonPrincess]I won't say whether it was a compliment or an insult. Take it however you like. (ﾉ≧ڡ≦)

I snorted, dismissing the message. Kaguya was fun.

Two more messages appeared right after, this time flying in, carried by a small skeleton with bony wings:

[AinzOoalGown]Devas, question: how many hours until that mission activates? I've got something to do here and want to know if I'll have time, since I don't want any interruptions while I'm watching.

[AinzOoalGown]If it's something short, I'll delegate it to Albedo or Demiurge… Actually, Sebas might be better for this.

"Huh?…" I pulled up the mission timer. "Thirteen hours and a few minutes. Still plenty of time."

That was also why I wasn't worried about how far we were from Japan. In thirteen hours, Proto-A would get there easily.

As I replied, I ran through what Ainz might be doing. I'd given him part of the chapters I had of his story before—he'd read them too.

Timeline-wise, if he hadn't changed much, it should be something involving the Lizardmen or the Re-Estize Kingdom.

Since he himself mentioned sending Sebas, it was probably something in Re-Estize, since it involved humans—and those two were… unpleasant in that regard, to say the least.

Ainz was a curious case to me. I liked the guy—he was easy to talk to—and at this point, I could consider him something close to a friend.

Ainz himself had already told me he'd grown more attached to his humanity compared to the "him" from the story.

He said it felt a bit strange from a purely logical standpoint, but he found himself liking being human—and holding onto those traits—more than he expected.

The problem was the other inhabitants of Nazarick, who mostly saw humans as inferior beings—or even livestock.

They weren't people I knew, nor a world I was familiar with. But just being indirectly connected to someone like Demiurge already made my skin crawl…

I looked down at the sharks in the water below—one of them had taken the bait again.

I pulled it up. Another great white.

I stared at it for a few seconds before tossing it back into the sea.

"Yeah… I think I've done enough fishing for today…" I muttered, standing up and tossing the Chum Caster into the Voidbag.

In the end, I guess it didn't really matter…

Whatever was going to happen—if I ever went to Ainz's world in some not-so-hypothetical future—would happen. And what wouldn't, wouldn't.

I'd just do what I had to do. Nothing more.

As I stretched—more out of habit than anything—and the sharks began to disperse now that the Chum Caster's scent had faded, I felt something.

It was like… a faint vibration, coming from far away, pulsing slowly with each passing second, growing stronger—like a heartbeat from behind a wall that was starting to crack.

And the worst part was that, from behind that "wall," I could almost hear something like laughter.

I looked into the Spirit Realm. The part of me that was picking up this "signal," so to speak, was there: the Mini-Pylon.

More specifically, the Mini-Pylon's second ability:

-//-

Dimensional Echo:The Mini-Pylon can detect and attract echoes from dimensions outside "The Streamer's" current world. It can capture messages, summons, warnings, and distress signals.[On]

-//-

"No fucking way…" I said out loud, half in disbelief, turning toward where the vibration was coming from. "Murphy, you son of a bitch!"

As if the universe itself were laughing in my face for having said less than a minute ago that thirteen hours was more than enough time to reach Japan, a mission appeared right in front of me—without me even needing to be in Tokyo:

-//-

[The Ginza Incident (Part 1 of ???)]

Rarity: PinkWorld: Amalgam World/???Time limit: 3 seconds to open the "Gate".

Mission Description:

A large-scale spatial distortion is manifesting in the center of Ginza, Tokyo.

An unstable image begins to form at the origin point—translucent, overlapping reality. Stone structures with broad columns and defined arches become visible, resembling ancient classical architecture, though incomplete and slightly misaligned, as if two distinct spaces were trying to occupy the same place.

With each passing instant, the structure becomes clearer, replacing the surrounding space.

The origin does not belong to this world.

Objective: Investigate the nature of the anomaly.

Rewards: 10,000 Gold Coins, Remnant of Hardy's Divine Essence, Partial Map of the Special Region (Sector: Alnus), Sample of Soil from the Special Region.

[..]

~ The first step was not taken here… ~

-//-

"Are they invading my planet?..." It was so absurd I wasn't even angry. I was indignant.

"Jinn!" I shouted.

I didn't even need to continue. Before she could fully grasp what I wanted, she turned into a trail of dark blue smoke, vanishing into my shadow and reappearing in my Spirit Realm.

I grabbed the Proto-A and tossed it into the Voidbag. The ship would be too slow. I started falling toward the sea.

Even as I fell, I began equipping myself.

First, the Remnant Of The Deerclops manifested over my body, overlaying my clothes.

The upper part of the armor had been partially destroyed by the "void," so I patched it up as best as I could.

It had become even more tribal than before. The left side was gone, exposing my left chest, as well as my shoulder and arm, wrapped in the white plant bandages Alalia had created for me.

The defense had dropped, but it still retained its attributes—and most importantly, the Hallucination Storm.

Across my exposed skin, dozens of markings, symbols, and vein-like patterns in a blood-red hue began to appear, spreading from where my heart was.

Next, I equipped the Angelic Greaves on my feet.

From within the bandage covering my left arm, the Shield of the Eye of The Moon twisted free, emerging from my flesh. It unfolded its layers, gripped my wrist, and reshaped itself into its original form: a large circular shield with a mouth full of teeth.

I grabbed the air with my right hand. My fingers closed around the hilt of the Teardrop Cleaver.

I grabbed the air with my left hand. My fingers closed around the hilt of the Relic of Destruction.

From my back, I moved the Shadow Puppet until its arms extended beneath mine.

The Shadow Puppet's right hand clenched the air. My shadow's fingers wrapped around the handle of the Haemorrhaxe.

The Shadow Puppet's left hand clenched the air. My shadow's fingers wrapped around the handle of the Ice Blade.

Over my face, the Bone Helm manifested, emerging from my shadow as the Shadow Puppet's face overlapped with mine. Beneath it, on my forehead, my Demon Slayer Mark glowed in its sun-like form.

My eyepatch vanished into my inventory as the Shadow Puppet's right eye appeared where my left eye should have been.

Behind my head, near my shoulders, two black hands from the Bone Helm emerged.

The one on my left held the Undertaker.

The one on my right held the Blood Thorn.

I stared at the water rushing up to meet me.

The orange glow of my right eye contrasted with the darkness of the night sky.

The red glow of the Shadow Puppet's right eye contrasted with the pale reflection of the moon.

The golden glow of the lines along my teeth contrasted with the purple Shadowflame coating my entire body.

The World turned Transparent.

Then my feet touched the sea. The waves stilled. The sound vanished.

I let out a breath and inhaled deeply.

Several Nightmares appeared in the water to my right. Small and large, in all kinds of forms. I swung the Teardrop Cleaver, tearing them apart as Temporal Sadness stole their time.

I felt my body accelerate.

'Drip… Drop…'

On my left wrist, the mouth of the Shield of the Eye of The Moon bit into the surrounding space, distorting it.

Then I took a step forward, reappearing dozens of kilometers away.

Distance and space weren't important.

[…]

POV: Yoji Itami.

I was… just standing there on a sidewalk in Ginza, holding a heavy bag of manga from Comiket.

The sun was high—almost noon—when the ground shook. It felt vaguely like an earthquake, enough that I thought it was one, but it was more localized, like something massive had slammed into the asphalt.

Before I could process it, the sound hit—roars, metallic clashing, and galloping, followed by screams of mass panic and fear. I looked toward the middle of the street and, for a few seconds, my brain—still in full otaku mode—froze.

Soldiers, wearing armor that reminded me of legionaries—leather and metal. Some rode horse-like creatures, others mounted drakes, even dragons.

And it wasn't just them. Charging and attacking people were orcs wielding clubs, goblins, things that looked like ogres—non-human creatures. Some grabbed people and dragged them off, where soldiers bound them and took them away.

"Shit… no way… you've got to be kidding me…" I muttered.

The panic grew—people running, shoving, screaming.

I tossed my bag of manga aside. It hurt to let it go, but I needed my hands free, and I started moving.

Seriously, this had to happen now?! Why did a fantasy invasion have to happen while I was dressed like this?!

Hell, I was wearing an anime T-shirt and denim shorts. My uniform would've been really useful right now. Damn it, I didn't even have a gun!

"This way! Don't stand still! Run over here!" I shouted, guiding people.

I pushed a few elderly people out of the monsters' charge path. Helped a woman back to her feet. The chaos was absolute—storefronts shattering, cars crashing, the smell of blood and fire mixing in the air.

It was practically a war zone.

Seconds passed. It felt like an eternity, but if I had to guess, it had only been one or two minutes at most. Everything was happening too fast. I was running along the sidewalk after helping a few people when I noticed someone who stood out.

She was an adult woman—tall for a woman, a few centimeters taller than me, and I'm one seventy-five. Mid-twenties, maybe late twenties at most.

Messy black hair, sharp gray eyes. She wore casual clothes—a white jacket and dark blue jeans—carrying a crossbody bag and a shopping bag like the one I'd just dropped, full of manga and a few gift wraps.

She must've been at Comiket too, just like me, when all this started. Probably buying presents for friends, along with stuff for herself.

I vaguely noticed she didn't seem as panicked as the others. Surprised and shocked? Sure. But she seemed more focused. Military, like me, maybe?

She was with a group of children and their mothers, trying to guide them to safety.

My eyes widened when I noticed something approaching her.

"Watch out!"

I shouted, running and pointing behind her.

A soldier—a lightly armored legionary with a short sword—was coming up behind the children. I couldn't see his face under the helmet, but it wouldn't surprise me if he was smiling cruelly.

Maybe that was just the anger I felt toward these guys making me think that way…

The woman reacted quickly.

She turned, taking advantage of the fact that the soldier had likely underestimated her for being a woman—and a civilian—and swept his leg from behind, using a judo move, leveraging his own weight and armor to slam him to the ground.

She didn't follow up after knocking him down, instead backing off before he could get up, beginning to turn away.

By then, I had closed the distance. I took the opening and grabbed the short sword—a gladius, probably, given their Roman-style gear.

Without thinking, ignoring the foreign words spilling from the man's mouth, I drove the blade into the gap between his helmet and armor.

The sensation of cutting through flesh was unpleasant. The man spasmed as he was effectively throat-cut, bleeding out.

"And the day started so well…" I muttered.

I took a deep breath and stood, scanning the surroundings. The chaos had grown; this was a more open area—that was a problem. Bodies on the ground, the lower levels of buildings on fire.

Beside me, the woman had stopped. Two small children were behind her, along with an elderly man and an adult woman the kids were clinging to.

"Yoji Itami. Second Lieutenant, JSDF." I gave a quick wave as I introduced myself.

Better to identify myself right away to civilians—avoids trouble—and if she wasn't a civilian, she'd introduce herself too.

She glanced at the body, far calmer than I expected from a civilian. Surprisingly, she didn't introduce herself with any military rank.

"I'm… Shizuka Hiratsuka. A teacher," she said, slightly out of breath.

Hiratsuka-san's gaze flicked briefly to my orange anime T-shirt, but she said nothing. Introducing myself as a second lieutenant dressed like this was… awkward.

A teacher? If I'd had a teacher who could pull that off back in school, I probably would've gotten better grades…

"We need to get out of here," I said, refocusing. "There's a police station nearby. We'll evacuate through there—cut through Hibiya Park, then head for the Imperial Palace."

She nodded, her expression sharpening again, and turned to signal the people behind her to start moving.

Then she stopped—just like I did—when we both noticed what was happening around us.

"Shit…" I clicked my tongue.

We hadn't even stood still for ten seconds…

They closed in—goblins, orcs… heavier creatures, around two meters tall.

We were partially surrounded. An ogre with a massive club blocked the path ahead, letting out a guttural laugh. Goblins emerged from the side alleys.

I gripped the gladius with both hands, feeling the sweat in my palms. I didn't know how to use a sword, but it was closer to a big knife than anything else.

I let out a half-nervous laugh.

Fighting a two-and-a-half-meter ogre wasn't exactly what I had planned when I woke up today—but life had a way of screwing over every plan, didn't it…?

"Stay behind me!" I ordered Hiratsuka-san, the old man, the mother, and the children. "I'll try to open a path—run when I do."

A suicide mission. That thing could probably kill me in one or two hits—but screw it. When I joined the army, I was already prepared for this.

I just needed to push that ugly green bastard back—or distract it—for a second or two. Just enough time for them to get away.

I tensed my muscles and braced myself—then Hiratsuka-san's hand touched my left shoulder. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye; she shook her head in refusal.

Letting go of her bag and dropping it to the ground, she brought both hands to her mouth and took a deep breath, filling her lungs so fully that her chest visibly swelled.

Then she shouted, as loud as she possibly could:

"DEVAS, HELP!!!"

The scream was so loud my left ear rang for a moment. Even the creatures around us seemed startled, pausing for an instant.

Nothing happened for one—maybe two—seconds… The creatures started moving again.

Then a presence fell over the entire area.

It was the same sensation I'd felt many times before: the feeling of being watched. But unlike every other time, this gaze had real, physical weight.

It felt like it was coming from above.

The sounds around us seemed to vanish for a few moments. The chaos dulled—soldiers, goblins, horses, orcs, ogres—all of them stopped moving, as if frozen, crushed beneath the weight of that gaze.

Then the ogre—the two-and-a-half-meter mass of muscle in front of us—exploded into blood as something slammed into it from above, cracking the ground.

The thing that hit it was grotesque. I hesitated to call it an axe—much less a hammer. It was enormous, disgusting, ugly—made of flesh and muscle—and it pulsed as if it were alive.

Maybe it was, because the ogre's blood began to be devoured by mouths and teeth that emerged from that grotesque mass, consuming skin, flesh, muscle—everything.

A hand grabbed the handle of that massive thing, lifting it as if it weighed nothing.

I… hadn't seen where he came from.

A man—huge—wearing a kind of tribal armor and a deer-bone mask. He had four arms—two of them made of shadow—each holding a weapon more dangerous-looking than the last.

Two shadow hands floated behind him. The exposed skin of his chest was covered in living red tattoos that moved.

His shadow had thousands of blinking eyes, looking in every direction.

His body looked… distorted.

At times it flickered, like TV static glitching across him, as if he were out of sync. The space around him warped as well, like a curved lens bending the light.

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling.

Hiratsuka-san had a completely different reaction to the man.

While I was starting to wonder which god I should pray to, she let out a deeply relieved sigh and dropped to the ground, sitting casually on the sidewalk.

"Don't make a habit of this…" the man's voice echoed across the area as if it came from all directions. "I'm not a god. I won't always be here to save you."

He turned, looking at Hiratsuka-san.

His right eye was orange; his left, blood-red.

"I know, but I was kind of desperate. And you showed up, didn't you?…" Hiratsuka-san replied, pulling a cigarette from her pocket and lighting it with a lighter.

She took a drag and exhaled before speaking again: "Nice to finally meet you, Devas."

The man didn't respond—he only gave a slow nod and looked around.

"Two minutes and thirty-two seconds… Thus long it took me to come hither from the eastern coast of the United States…" He drove the weapon in his right hand into the ground.

A massive blade—almost like a cleaver—fleshy, with an eye near the base that was crying.

'Drip… drop…'

I looked away, unable to keep staring at it.

"I came here expecting to find a god… I can't quite say whether I'm disappointed…"

He tilted his head slightly.

"I see thee…"

Then he extended his right hand toward where he had been looking, and something came flying toward him from afar, as if carried by invisible hands: the body of a blond man, noble-looking, wearing armor different from the other soldiers I had seen.

Devas grabbed him by the neck as he struggled.

He lifted the man until their eyes were level.

"Domitus Fa Lernum, Supreme Commander of the Saderan Expeditionary Force, of the Empire of Sadera… Answer me…"

"What knowest thou of the God named Hardy?"

The orange of his eye glowed.

"And what gave thee the courage to invade my world?"

[...]---[...]

Finally, the story is moving in the direction I wanted—well, at least partially.

I had to spend part of the chapter explaining things about Lord of the Mysteries and Devas's understanding of the world. It'll be more useful later, since he's going to get heavily involved with that world, so there was no way to skip it.

GATE is an anime with a premise I really like: "what would happen if another world connected to Earth?"

What interests me is the reaction—how people respond, how governments deal with it, and how cultures clash. The part where everyone on the other side is dumb as hell isn't as appealing to me, but considering the anime is basically Japanese military propaganda, it's understandable.

That said, I'll explore that world a bit. There are some interesting things there. But don't worry, I won't drag things out there.

Devas's reaction to the invasion makes sense, from his perspective. Something—potentially divine—was invading Earth. He could feel divinity and even hear laughter beyond the "crack," and on top of that, the mission itself listed "a remnant of Hardy's divine essence" as one of the rewards.

To him, it's like some random god from another world suddenly trying to invade his home. So he armed himself to the teeth—which might be a bit literal in this case—and fired straight at where the invader was.

And when he got there, he found a bunch of random guys who'd probably explode if he breathed too hard…

Well, I mostly added that scene to show what Devas's new look/style will be like when things get serious.

As for Shizuka Hiratsuka, she's one of the three viewers he has in this world, in case that wasn't obvious.

I tweaked the timeline a bit to make her fit in there. What does that change? Basically nothing. It's like I took Oregairu's timeline and shifted everything back a few years. The characters and events are the same, with some creative freedom to adjust anything involving technology.

I like her character—the "older woman who smokes" archetype, along with everything else. The rest of Oregairu should show up too, especially the dead-fish-eyed guy—I like him as well.

Mini-spoiler: the other two viewers he has in this world are not from Oregairu.

Alright, I think that's it—have a good night, everyone, and enjoy the read!