『Interrupting Scheduled Broadcast』
Night settled over Houston like a drawn curtain.
Not abruptly. Not with drama. It simply came down slowly, wrapping the streets, the apartments, the estates, and the quiet in a blanket of darkness that softened everything it touched.
Traffic thinned. Windows dimmed. Conversations in the halls of homes and apartment buildings faded into murmurs, then into silence.
For Jasper, Arti, and Sieg, it should have been a normal night. Homework. Dinner. The dull mercy of sleep.
But in a world built on gates, summoners, and old blood that refused to stay buried, even the peace between one day and the next had a habit of feeling temporary.
A borrowed thing.
A pause.
And somewhere far beyond the city, beyond the atmosphere of Earth itself, beyond the reach of human maps or human logic, one man kept paying the price for that pause.
—————
『Another Realm Entirely』
Far away.
Far beyond the city.
Far beyond the country.
Far beyond the world as humans understood it.
There was another place.
A realm of stone and clay and impossible distance.
An endless plain stretched in all directions beneath a sky the color of old ash. There were no cities here. No roads. No traffic. No weather that humanity would recognize. Only silence, dust, and the feeling that this was a battlefield so old it had forgotten the meaning of time.
Near the center of that barren plain, beside a small campfire that somehow still burned, sat an older man with gray hair, a gray beard, and the calm face of somebody who had already seen too much to be easily surprised by anything else.
He wore green cargo shorts, a long-sleeved white hoodie, and a fisherman vest that looked almost offensively ordinary considering the place he was standing in. On his head sat a boonie hat, tipped low over his brow.
He leaned back, looking at the distant horizon with the weary patience of a man who had spent ages learning exactly how much trouble could arrive all at once.
Across from him sat a seven-foot-tall humanoid with apish features, a thick tail, and fur that caught the firelight like living gold-brown flame. A tiger pelt was tied at his waist, and a golden headband sat tightly against his brow, pressing down with a sort of divine insult that seemed to only make him more smug.
He looked like he had been built to never sit still.
He WAS built to never sit still.
The monkey-man sighed dramatically. "Hmmm. Looks like lunch will have to wait."
The old man tipped his head toward the horizon. "Yeah." His voice was dry, calm, and carrying a kind of tired amusement that only came from years of getting into fights with the impossible.
At the edge of the plain, shapes were moving.
Lines.
Thousands of them.
Then hundreds of thousands.
Then more than enough to turn the horizon into a dark, crawling wall.
Terracotta soldiers.
No, not terracotta.
Not really.
These were made of jade.
Solid. Shining. Their armor reflected the dying light like knives. A legion. An entire army.
The personal force of the Jade Emperor.
The monkey-man grinned, his eyes bright with open delight. "Hhnn-nya." He rolled his shoulders. "Seems he's still a sore loser, even after all these eons."
The old man sighed, rising to his feet with audible complaints from his joints. "Sun."
His tone remained patient, but there was a warning buried in it. "You take the nine-hundred on the left. I'll take the other nine-hundred on the right."
The monkey man turned his head, ear to the ground in an almost theatrical motion. Then, with an exaggerated flourish, he slapped the side of his face, his ear spat out a long rope of molten wax that struck the earth and rapidly hardened.
In seconds, the wax transformed.
Shined.
Lengthened.
And became a golden cudgel.
A staff.
Perfectly balanced.
Impossible.
His grin widened until it threatened to split his face. "Make that nine-hundred and one." His gaze shifted beyond the army, to a tiny figure standing behind the jade ranks.
A man in armor made entirely of polished green stone. Small in body. Massive in presence.
The Jade Emperor.
And his expression was twisted with ancient offense. "You foul monkey!"
His voice carried across the plain like a decree sharpened into hatred. "Even long after your time, you still strike at my dignity?!"
Sun Wukong twirled the staff one-handed, the motion so effortless it looked like he was flipping a toy.
"Aye!"
He barked a laugh.
"It's my favorite pastime!"
Then he pointed the staff toward the Emperor. "Now stop being spineless. Come run the one's with me."
"Tch." The Jade Emperor's face tightened with disgust. "You spent far too much time with those filthy humans."
At that, the old man sighed. "I'd take offense to that…" He gave the smallest shrug. "…if I also didn't believe my race was trash as well."
The Emperor blinked in disbelief, his jaw clenched. "See?! Even the human himself agrees!"
Sun Wukong pointed immediately, wagging a disapproving finger. "No, no."
A beat.
"Adam just hates everyone."
"Especially people who interrupt his nap time." Wukong shook his head with the grave seriousness of a prankster who had never once been serious in his life. "He's really cranky in his old age."
Adam, the First Summoner, said nothing. Only shrugged.
Then the army surged.
The Jade soldiers broke into motion like a wave of sharpened stone. The ground shook beneath their feet.
Adam exhaled once, rolled his shoulders, and vanished into the battle with the easy economy of a man who had fought monsters long enough to stop caring what form they wore.
He raised his hand.
Mana from the Æther answered.
An echo of Sun Wukong's staff manifested in his grip, extending instantly into a lethal weapon of golden force. He swung it in a broad arc, and the front line of jade soldiers shattered into fragments as if they had been struck by a falling star. The old man moved with shocking precision, every swing of the staff making perfect use of reach, momentum, and force.
He looked tired. Yet he moved like a legend. Those two things did not conflict here. They were one and the same.
Behind him, Sun Wukong laughed loud enough to challenge thunder. He reached to the end of his tail and plucked six strands of hair with mocking care.
Then blew.
The hairs turned into six copies of himself, each one instantly alive, instantly grinning, instantly violent. Six monkeys launched into the army from different angles, and the battlefield erupted in chaos.
The clones were almost impossible to distinguish from the original, save for tiny variations in expression and posture that only made them more absurdly dangerous.
One clone ripped a jade soldier in half. Another kicked a formation apart. Another laughed while headbutting an enemy so hard the impact rang like a bell.
Then Sun Wukong himself launched upward, a small cloud forming beneath his feet. He hovered in the air for a heartbeat, staff resting across his shoulders, wild joy blazing in his eyes. "Let's have some fun!"
Then he shot forward toward the rear line. Toward the Emperor.
The Jade Emperor's expression shifted from offense to outrage. The entire heavens of that realm seemed to tense with him. "YOU INSOLENT MONKEY!"
He raised one arm.
The air cracked.
More jade soldiers emerged from the earth behind him, their bodies forming from clay and divine resentment. Spears flashed. Halberds rose. Shields slammed together.
The plain became a war machine.
An old wound reopened.
One that had never truly healed.
Adam swept through them like a man carving a path through a memory. While Wukong's clones tore through the ranks with glee. The sound of impact became constant.
Steel.
Stone.
Mana.
Wrath.
And through it all, the old grudge that had started in the realm of man finally found a battlefield worthy of it.
Long long ago, back in the world of mortals, a kingdom had been burned by pride, betrayal, and impossible laughter. That ancient resentment had outlived empires. Outlived laws. Outlived even the idea of mercy.
Now it had come back to settle itself.
———
『Meanwhile, on Earth』
Back on Earth, all was silent for a little longer.
Until the broadcast began, starting as a low chime. One that echoed from television screens, apartment speakers, public monitors, and the glowing panels of hospitals and dormitories across the city.
A scheduled interruption.
Mandatory.
Every household tuned to the same frequency without needing to touch a thing.
The screen in Jasper's apartment flickered awake in the living room, washing the room in pale white light.
Victor and Mattai both looked up from different corners of the city.
Arti stirred in bed as the Pendragon estate's wall display activated.
Sieg opened his eyes in the darkness of his room, staring at the ceiling as the familiar pre-recorded signal tone began to roll through the quiet house.
The broadcast symbol appeared.
Then a masked anchor took the screen.
"Good evening, citizens."
The voice was smooth, official, and practiced enough to sound comforting even when it wasn't.
"This is your scheduled Realm Stability Broadcast."
Text scrolled beneath the anchor.
NIGHTLY GATE CONDITION REPORT
THREAT INDEX: STABLE
DUNGEON ACTIVITY: NORMAL
PUBLIC ALERT: NONE
The anchor smiled professionally.
"In tonight's update, the Authority reminds all Summoner candidates that academy application windows remain open through the end of the month."
The screen shifted to a graphic of academy crests.
Chiron Academy among them.
Jasper's eyes opened slowly in the dark as the voice continued from the living room.
"Further, citizens are reminded that despite the appearance of recent minor dungeon anomalies, current emergency response conditions remain under control."
A brief pause.
The smile on the anchor's face did not change, but the music beneath the broadcast subtly shifted, becoming more formal. "We also wish to honor the continued efforts of our highest-tier operatives and the distant campaign of the First Summoner, Adam."
At that, the screen changed.
A painted image of a monkey king and an old man flashed across the display for just a second, followed by a stylized diagram of a far-off battlefield beyond human reach.
The words beneath it read:
CONTINUED DIVINE PRESSURE IS BEING CONTAINED.
The broadcast kept going.
Jasper sat up in bed. His hand drifted instinctively to the key around his neck.
Warm. Very warm. His chest tightened.
The anchor's voice continued.
"Though this conflict remains beyond direct civilian access, all citizens are reminded that humanity's current peace depends on the active restraint of threats at the outer boundaries of the divine theater."
The phrase sounded official enough to mean nothing to most people.
But to Jasper— It made the little rusted edge beneath his collar feel alive.
In the realm beyond worlds, Adam tore a line through a jade formation and glanced upward sharply.
Sun Wukong noticed immediately.
"What?"
Adam narrowed his eyes.
"…Something's watching."
The monkey king grinned.
"Good." Then he hurled himself at the Emperor with delighted ferocity.
The broadcast signal on Earth faltered.
Every screen in the city cracked white for a split second.
Static.
Then an image.
Too quick for most people to understand.
A staff.
A battle cry.
A sky split with ancient force.
The image vanished.
The anchor returned, visibly unaffected. "Apologies for the brief disruption. The Authority reports no cause for concern."
That, naturally, only made everyone more concerned.
Jasper stared at the screen, heart pounding for a reason he could not name. For the briefest moment, he had felt something in his spirit realm.
A vibration.
A trembling.
As if the enormous gate inside his dreams had answered the battle from somewhere impossibly far away.
From the hallway, his father called softly,
"Jasper? You seeing this?"
Jasper swallowed.
"Yeah."
His fingers tightened around the key.
The gold beneath the rust felt warmer than before.
In the distant realm, Adam and Sun Wukong fought on.
In the city, the broadcast resumed its clean official rhythm.
Yet in the gap between the two worlds, something ancient stirred, as if the interruption had not been a glitch at all, but a reminder.
A warning.
A promise.
The old peace of the night had been cracked. And somewhere beyond the reach of most human eyes, the war for humanity continued to rage on.
—————
『Earth』
Much later in the night
In Houston, the night remained quiet.
Jasper slept in his apartment with the blanket half-kicked off, his hand still loosely curled around the edge of his pillow like he might grab a key in his sleep.
Across town, in the Pendragon estate, Artoria slept with precision even in rest, her body still disciplined by years of being watched.
In the modest house with the warm kitchen, Sieg lay in bed staring at the ceiling for a long while before sleep finally claimed him.
Three teenagers.
Three lives.
Three different kinds of pressure.
And all of them, in one form or another, dreamed of what they could become.
———
『Jasper's Dream』
Jasper's dream was the gate.
Always the gate.
A vast ruined thing beyond sight.
A stone colossus buried under corrosion and time.
Tonight, the gold beneath its rust seemed brighter than before.
Not much.
Just enough to notice.
Enough to make his chest tighten.
He took a step closer in the dream, and the ancient surface groaned softly, as if aware of his presence.
Somewhere inside that impossible structure, something shifted.
A memory, maybe.
Or a promise.
He could almost hear a voice.
Not clear.
Not yet.
But present.
«Welcome to The Forge, my child.»
———
『Artoria's Dream』
Artoria's dream was quieter, though no less cruel.
She stood in a field of tall grass beneath a sky that looked too clean to be real.
A sword waited before her.
Not in the stone, but stabbed deep into the earth itself.
She reached for it, fingers barely brushing the hilt, and the weight of expectation descended the instant she touched it.
A kingdom.
A lineage.
A thousand invisible hands pushing her toward a shape she had not asked for.
She straightened anyway.
Because that was what she always did.
Her fingers gripped the hilt, pulling with all her might, yet the blade refused to budge, as if saying her intentions were not yet pure.
As if she were unworthy.
———
『Sieg's Dream』
Sieg's dream was the strangest.
He stood in a room without walls, watching versions of himself flicker past like images in broken glass.
Some smiled too much.
Some were cold.
Some were neither.
In one reflection, he looked up and saw Victor standing behind him, not speaking, only watching with that same quiet patience that made the world feel less hostile.
Sieg reached out.
The reflection blurred.
Then the dream folded in on itself.
———
All of them slept.
All of them waited.
And none of them knew that the night still had one more interruption left in it.
But for who?