Four years had passed.

  It was Shinzo lying on his back in the grass, staring at the swirling bck sky above, just as he had done countless times before. The void stretched endlessly, featureless and still. There was no sun, no stars, no shifting clouds—just the heavy, omnipresent mist that enclosed his world in all directions.

  He had long stopped trying to measure time. The ck of hunger, thirst, or exhaustion had stripped away any biological markers to track the days. The only indication of time’s passage was the weight of his thoughts, the slow erosion of disbelief that had settled into quiet acceptance. He was here. Alone. Trapped.

  At first, he had fought against it. He had screamed into the void, tried sprinting into the mist in every direction, attempted to mark his steps. But no matter how far he ran, he always emerged on the opposite side of the grassy pne, as if reality itself looped him back.

  Eventually, he stopped trying.

  With no other options, his mind had turned inward. He spent hours—maybe even years—repying old anime plotlines, remembering manga panels, reciting theme songs in his head. Anything to keep himself entertained.

  But tely, even that had begun to fade.

  Then, something changed.

  As soon as Hiro grabbed hold of the stone tablet, the world around Shinzo shifted.

  For the first time in four years, the mist moved.

  Shinzo sat up as a deep rumble vibrated through the air. Above him, the swirling void twisted unnaturally, converging at a single point before spiraling downward, forming a massive tornado of bck mist.

  “What the hell…” he muttered, scrambling to his feet.

  The twisting vortex smmed into the ground with a deafening roar, its sheer force sending a pulse outward across the grassy pne. Shinzo instinctively tried to approach it, but as soon as he stepped forward, an invisible force repelled him, shoving him backward.

  He gritted his teeth, pnting his feet and pushing forward again. Nothing. It was like an impenetrable wall, barring him from getting any closer.

  Then, the seals appeared.

  From the base of the tornado, intricate symbols and formus erupted outward, racing across the grass like veins of light. They surged toward the mist’s edge, locking into pce in sharp, angur patterns. The moment they settled, a voice—clear, melodic, and inhuman—echoed from all directions.

  "System Administrator Found."

  Shinzo barely had time to process the words before his body locked up.

  From the ground, scroll-like seals emerged, creeping up his legs like living tendrils. Panic surged through him as he tried to swipe them away, but his fingers finally met resistance.

  His hands—his body—were solid.

  The realization hit him like a thundercp. He could finally touch himself.

  He exhaled sharply, running his hands over his arms, his chest, his face—after four years of nothingness, he was whole again.

  But the moment of crity was short-lived. The seals did not stop.

  The living symbols continued crawling up his skin, embedding themselves in twisting, tattoo-like patterns. He tried to scrape them off, but they refused to budge. It was as if they were burning themselves into his very essence.

  A sharp pain nced through his skull. The world tilted.

  Then, the memories came.

  A valley stretched endlessly before him.

  Golden sunlight bathed the rolling hills, casting long shadows across the nd. In the distance, people—tan-skinned, dressed in primitive yet intricate garments—gathered in a vilge, their voices a mix of ughter and conversation.

  Massive creatures roamed the ndscape. Some looked like oversized versions of familiar animals, while others defied logic—beasts with shimmering fur, scales that gleamed like gemstones, eyes filled with intelligence.

  The scene flickered. Something was watching.

  Another fsh—colossal forms leaping through the sky, their movements shaking the very earth beneath them.

  Shinzo clutched his head as the images came faster, fragmenting into overpping fshes of sights, sounds, and sensations that he had never experienced.

  Then, everything turned white.

  At one edge of the clearing, seals began rising from the ground.

  Unlike the ones that had bound Shinzo, these symbols coalesced into a massive rectangur structure, its size dwarfing everything in sight. The patterns twisted and aligned, forming what looked like a colossal movie screen.

  Then, an image appeared.

  Shinzo, still gasping from the overwhelming surge of memories, saw someone—small, young, holding something in their arms.

  The light from the tablet in Hiro’s hands burned across the screen, illuminating the boy’s expression of confusion and awe. His small fingers gripped the stone ste tightly, his face bathed in its emerald glow.

  Shinzo stared at the projection, realization dawning on him.

  Who is this kid? he thought. And why is he connected to this?

  The swirling energy around them intensified. The tornado roared, the seals pulsed, and the voice that had called him the System Administrator remained silent—waiting.

  Something had changed. Whether for better or worse, Shinzo had awakened.