The ground felt cold beneath him.
His body trembled uncontrollably, pushed to its very limit.
"Hah… hah…"
Each breath was ragged—uneven—barely enough to keep him conscious.
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then—slowly—he lifted his head.
Strands of crimson hair fell over his eyes, casting shadows across his face…
yet the light within them refused to fade.
His gaze—sharp, unyielding—locked forward.
"It's pointless…"
His voice was low. Calm. Almost amused.
"…trying to break me."
Silence lingered.
Then, a faint smile curved along his lips—
not of defeat,
but of certainty.
"I won't fall that easily."
His fingers dug into the ground as he forced himself up—just slightly.
"You should know that."
—
A black-haired young man stood before him, looking down with calm, indifferent eyes.
There was no anger in his expression—
only a quiet, suffocating arrogance.
"You really think so?"
His voice was steady. Unshaken.
"Because I don't."
He tilted his head, his gaze sharpening—as if piercing through everything.
"You're not the one chosen by destiny…"
A faint smirk appeared.
"…not like me."
The air grew heavy.
"Struggle as much as you want," he continued, almost amused.
"In the end…"
He stepped forward.
"…I'll be the one who kills you, Makoto Mori."
Silence fell.
Then—
"Let's see how long you last."
—
"Haa—!"
Makoto's eyes snapped open.
His body jolted upright as a sharp breath escaped him.
Cold sweat clung to his skin. His heart pounded violently.
"…Where… am I…?"
His vision blurred. Reality felt distant—uncertain.
He raised a hand to his face, pressing his fingers against his eyes.
Wasn't I… fighting?
Fragments lingered—
overwhelming pressure…
a presence he couldn't resist…
enemies far beyond his reach.
And then—
nothing.
"Oi, what are you mumbling about?"
Makoto blinked.
A familiar figure stood beside him—messy posture, careless expression.
Haruto.
"You look like you just crawled out of a grave," Haruto said, raising an eyebrow.
"Stop spacing out and come to class."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice with a grin.
"I'm heading early… gotta sneak a peek at the girls."
Makoto stared at him for a second.
"…What?"
A pause.
"So you're a pervert."
"Hey! You can't just say that!"
Makoto exhaled, already standing.
"It is what it is… my friend."
—
The day passed like any other.
Classes. Noise. Meaningless conversations.
Normal.
Too normal.
—
The final bell rang.
Students poured into the corridors, their voices blending into a dull hum.
"I'll catch up later," Makoto said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Without waiting, he walked away.
—
My name is Makoto Mori.
A high school student. Nineteen years old.
And… yeah. I'm single, if that matters.
His steps slowed slightly.
Lately, though… something's been off.
These dreams.
They feel too real.
His gaze lowered.
Chosen by destiny… to protect the world?
A faint, self-mocking smile appeared.
Come on…
I can barely protect myself.
So how am I supposed to protect… anything else?
"Makoto."
A calm voice called out to him.
Makoto stopped.
He turned—and immediately recognized the figure standing a short distance away.
Black hair. Composed posture. Eyes that seemed to observe more than they revealed.
"…Oh. It's you."
A faint smile appeared.
"Kamiya."
He adjusted the strap of his bag slightly.
"Perfect timing. I was actually looking for you."
His gaze lingered for a moment.
"How've you been?"
—
Kamiya Shinya stepped forward.
His expression remained calm—as always.
"Busy," he replied simply.
"Late nights. Work. Things to take care of."
His tone was casual—
but vague enough to leave questions unanswered.
—
Kamiya Shinya.
A name almost everyone in the school knew.
A prodigy.
At the age of eleven, he had already begun collecting awards most could only dream of.
His academic scores were consistently at the top—effortlessly so.
But intelligence alone didn't define him.
His logical reasoning, adaptability, and precision in everything he did set him apart.
In short—
a genius.
And, unsurprisingly—
one of the most popular students among the girls.
—
Makoto studied him quietly.
For someone so well-known…
Kamiya carried himself with unsettling composure.
As if nothing in this world could truly surprise him.
—
"…You haven't changed," Makoto muttered.
"Still busy acting like you've got the whole world figured out."
A faint smirk touched his lips.
"Must be nice."
"You're a workaholic, you know that?" Makoto said, glancing at him.
"Always busy."
Kamiya's lips curved into a faint, composed smile.
"You could say that," he replied calmly.
"I don't mind."
—
We've known each other for years.
Makoto's gaze drifted slightly, as if looking beyond the present.
We became friends when we were fourteen…
A small memory surfaced—clear, almost vivid.
Back then, I got stuck in a tree… calling out for my mother like an idiot.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
And Kamiya…
He climbed up without hesitation and pulled me down.
It was simple.
But from that moment on—
their bond had only grown stronger.
—
I had another close friend too…
Richard.
We met when I was four.
But when we turned fourteen… he transferred away.
Makoto exhaled quietly.
I wonder how he's doing now…
His gaze lifted toward the sky.
Meanwhile, I'm still here. Tokyo.
A soft, almost amused thought passed through his mind.
…Life's kind of funny like that.
—
"Are you having any trouble?"
Kamiya's voice cut through his thoughts.
Makoto blinked once, then shrugged.
"Not really trouble…"
He hesitated for a moment.
"I've just been having these weird dreams lately."
Kamiya remained silent, listening.
"I'm fighting someone," Makoto continued.
"Someone… strong."
His expression tightened slightly.
"And he keeps saying the same thing."
A brief pause.
"…that he's the 'destined one.'"
—
For the first time—
Kamiya's expression changed.
"…'destined one,' you say?"
His voice was quieter now.
Sharper.
Makoto frowned slightly.
"Yeah… why?"
A second passed.
Then—
"…Nothing," Kamiya said, returning to his usual calm tone.
"It's nothing, really."
"But I wonder…" Kamiya said, his tone thoughtful, his expression turning slightly serious.
"Who exactly is that person… appearing in your dreams?"
—
Makoto blinked, then let out a small breath.
"You're taking this way too seriously."
—
"…Am I?"
Kamiya's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer—quiet, unreadable.
Then, as if deciding something—
"Ah… I just remembered," he said.
"There's something I need to take care of."
He straightened slightly.
"I'll be going."
—
Makoto tilted his head.
"…Ah. Okay?"
—
Kamiya gave a faint, gentle smile—
the same composed expression he always wore—
and turned away.
Within moments, he disappeared into the crowd.
—
Makoto watched him go.
"…That was weird," he muttered under his breath.
He scratched the back of his head lightly.
If you think about it… yeah. Definitely weird.
A short pause.
Then he exhaled.
"…Whatever."
He adjusted his bag and turned in the opposite direction.
I should just head home and rest.
A small grin appeared.
Maybe play a visual novel for a bit… clear my head.
Something new… something different.
Without another thought—
Makoto leaned forward slightly—
then broke into a run.
His movements were light, almost carefree—
as he dashed down the street with a faint, sarcastic smile.
Makoto sat in his room, controller in hand, eyes fixed on the screen—
but his mind wasn't fully there.
Who was that…?
His grip tightened slightly.
That guy…
Was it really just a dream?
He clicked his tongue.
"…Never mind."
The game was about to start.
"Let's just play."
—
Time passed.
The glow of the screen faded as exhaustion finally caught up to him.
He leaned back—
and drifted into a light sleep.
—
"Ah—!"
Makoto jolted awake.
"What time is it…?"
He grabbed his phone, eyes widening slightly.
"…7:30?"
He froze.
Then—
"…Wait."
His head snapped up as he looked around—left, right—
panic setting in.
"The date…!"
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear on his face.
"No way…"
A heavy sigh escaped him.
"…I missed it."
He stared at his phone for a moment.
"…Maybe I should call her…"
As he reached for it—
Thud.
Makoto froze.
"…What was that?"
The room fell silent.
Slowly, he turned his head toward the sound.
"…Hello?"
No response.
His expression hardened slightly.
I've been alone in this house for years…
So how…?
Step by step, he moved forward.
His hand reached for the door—
He opened it.
—
"Meow."
A black cat suddenly leapt forward—
Scratch—!
"Ah—!"
Makoto stumbled back, grabbing his face.
"…A cat?!"
The cat darted past him and disappeared in an instant.
—
Silence returned.
Makoto stood there for a moment, then let out a small breath.
"…I'm way too careless."
He glanced toward the door, a faint, awkward smile forming.
"I must've left it open when I went to school…"
He rubbed the back of his head.
"…Yeah. That has to be it.The scene shifted.
High above the city—
atop a silent tower.
The night wind surged, sharp and restless, brushing past him like unseen hands.
Kamiya Shinya stood at the edge.
Unmoving.
His gaze was fixed on the sky.
Dark.
Endless.
The city lights flickered far below—distant, insignificant.
His expression remained calm…
but his eyes—
carried something deeper.
Thoughtful.
Calculating.
—
The wind howled louder.
Yet he didn't move.
—
The scene shifted again.
Back to Makoto Mori.
"Anyway…"
Makoto stretched lightly, letting out a small breath.
"I should get back to my stuff."
He glanced around lazily.
"…Not like I've got anything better to do."
—
Silence.
Stillness.
Then—
Boom.
The sound tore through the air without warning.
The sound didn't just echo—
it shook everything.
The walls trembled.
The windows rattled violently.
Makoto froze.
"…What was that?"
His voice came out lower than expected.
Another vibration ran through the ground—stronger this time.
The air itself felt disturbed.
"…That wasn't normal."
His gaze sharpened as he looked toward the source—
somewhere beyond the city.
Whatever it was—
it wasn't small.
The tremors hadn't even settled—
when something felt… wrong.
Makoto adjusted his belongings absentmindedly, still trying to process the noise—
then paused.
Someone was there.
Standing on his balcony.
A figure—
long, flowing violet hair swaying slightly in the night air.
Makoto's eyes widened.
"…What?"
His voice sharpened instantly.
"Who are you?"
—
The figure didn't answer.
Instead—
Crash.
The glass shattered as the man stepped inside without hesitation.
Makoto froze for a split second.
What the hell—?!
His thoughts barely had time to form—
because behind the man…
something moved.
A massive creature emerged into view.
Its presence alone distorted the air.
"Hey," the violet-haired man said calmly.
His gaze locked onto Makoto.
"Ginger-haired boy…"
A slight tilt of his head.
"Where is Susanoo?"
—
Makoto stared at him, completely thrown off.
"…What are you talking about?"
His voice rose slightly.
"And why are you in my house?!"
—
No answer.
Only silence.
Then—
"Attack."
The command was quiet.
But absolute.
—
The creature lunged forward.
Makoto's instincts kicked in—
he ran.
"What the hell is happening right now—?!"
His breath grew uneven as he rushed down the stairs.
The sound of destruction followed behind him—
walls cracking, steps breaking under something massive.
"These things… what are they?!"
His voice echoed with disbelief.
—
Behind him, the violet-haired man raised a hand to his face, his expression unchanged.
"…You think you can fool us?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Magni."
The creature halted for a fraction of a second.
"Feed him to your stomach."
His tone remained calm.
"The rest… we'll figure out later."
—
The creature surged forward—faster this time—
shattering the stairs as it gave chase.
—
Makoto burst out onto the road, running without looking back.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
"…What is that thing?!"
His breath came sharp, uneven.
This… this is just like the dream…
His eyes widened slightly.
Those creatures…
Is this a dream… or reality?
Smack.
He slapped his own face—hard.
Pain shot through instantly.
"…No way…"
—
High above—
beneath the pale glow of the moon—
A figure stood atop a towering industrial stack.
Silent.
Watching.
His gaze followed Makoto's every movement.
High above the city—
beneath the pale glow of the moon—
A figure stood in silence.
His presence alone felt… distant.
Untouchable.
White hair swayed gently in the night wind, strands falling across his eyes.
His expression remained calm—
unreadable.
In his hand—
a black sword rested, its surface absorbing the faint light around it.
Below him, far beneath the height he stood upon—
the city stretched endlessly.
And within it—
Makoto.
Running.
The man's gaze followed him without wavering.
Silent.
Focused.
As if he had already found what he was looking for.
—
A faint shift.
His grip tightened slightly around the sword.
The wind howled—
but he remained still.
Watching.
Refined Scene
Makoto ran.
His breath came in sharp bursts as his feet pounded against the road.
"…What is even happening…?"
His thoughts were in chaos.
The creatures.
The man.
That overwhelming presence—
None of it made sense.
Then—
he looked up.
His steps faltered for a split second.
High above—
beneath the moon—
A figure stood.
Watching him.
"…Another one…?"
Makoto clenched his teeth.
"No… just run."
He pushed himself forward again—faster.
—
Suddenly—
He stopped.
His eyes widened.
"…What?"
The road ahead—
was blocked.
Completely.
Debris.
Ruined structures.
"…How…?"
His voice trembled slightly.
"There was nothing here yesterday…"
—
"There you are."
Makoto froze.
That voice—
Slowly…
he turned back.
The violet-haired man stood behind him.
Calm.
Unhurried.
"…Now you're done."
His gaze was cold.
"I told you—your playtime is over."
He raised his hand slightly.
"Magni."
—
The creature lunged.
Fast.
Too fast.
Its massive arm pulled back—
then surged forward with crushing force.
Makoto's body refused to move.
His eyes locked onto the incoming strike—
I can't dodge this—
—
Clang.
A sharp metallic sound cut through the air.
The impact never reached him.
Makoto's vision blurred—
then—
Something grabbed him.
His body lifted slightly—
his breath caught—
A hand gripped his neck.
Firm.
Unshakable.
His eyes widened.
Standing beside him—
was the white-haired man.
His black sword was raised—
effortlessly intercepting the creature's attack.
The force of the blow scattered into nothing—
as if it had been meaningless from the start.
The man didn't even look strained.
His expression remained calm.
Unreadable.
The impact never landed.
—
In the next instant—
the white-haired man moved.
A single step—
and everything shifted.
Makoto felt the grip on his neck loosen as he was pulled back—
placed behind him, out of reach.
Safe.
—
The creature's massive arm halted mid-strike—
as if something invisible had forced it back.
The violet-haired man's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Who are you?"
—
Makoto stumbled, barely regaining his footing.
"…What… was that…?"
His gaze shifted between the two figures.
Who are these people…?
—
The white-haired man didn't look at him.
His attention remained fixed forward.
"If you're looking for a fight," he said calmly,
"then choose someone equal to you."
A slight pause.
"…Why bully a weakling?"
—
The violet-haired man let out a faint breath—almost a laugh.
"A weakling?"
His smile deepened slightly.
"If he were normal…"
His gaze sharpened.
"…you wouldn't have stepped in."
Silence.
"You know it as well as I do."
"…This one is different."
—
The white-haired man remained still.
Unbothered.
"…It doesn't matter."
—
A shift.
The air grew heavier.
His hand moved—slow, deliberate.
"…Nyame."
—
Darkness gathered.
Not like shadow—
but something deeper.
From within it—
a form emerged.
Massive.
Muscular.
A black figure—
its presence alone distorting the space around it.
A blade formed within its grasp.
Silent.
Waiting.
—
The violet-haired man watched—
then smiled.
"…So that's it."
His eyes gleamed with interest.
"The ancient god I've heard about…"
His smile widened.
"…Now this is interesting."
The tension thickened—
then broke.
The violet-haired man stepped forward, a faint smile forming on his lips.
"…Alright."
His voice carried a quiet excitement.
"I accept your duel."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Let's have it."
A pause—
"My name is Ragna."
His gaze sharpened.
"And yours?"
—
The white-haired man didn't hesitate.
"…Louis Berzato."
—
Ragna smiled wider.
"Nice."
A faint chuckle escaped him.
"This is going to be fun."
His eyes flicked toward Makoto for a brief moment.
"…After I'm done with you—"
His smile turned colder.
"—that kid gets a taste of death too."
—
Silence.
Then—
Louis spoke.
Without even looking back.
"Makoto."
His tone was calm.
"Are you going to stand there and watch…"
A slight pause.
"…or save your life?"
—
Makoto blinked.
"…Oh."
A realization hit.
"…Right."
—
He turned—
and ran.
Fast.
—
"One more thing," Louis added, his voice cutting through the distance.
"Go to your house."
"…Not anywhere else."
A brief pause.
"You'll find something there."
—
Makoto didn't stop.
"Yeah—got it!"
—
Ragna's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched him leave.
"…Where do you think he's going?"
—
Louis finally shifted his stance.
His gaze met Ragna's directly.
Calm.
Unshaken.
"Your fight is with me."
—
Ragna exhaled softly.
"…Fine."
—
Then—
Louis spoke again.
"…And if you're expecting your other ally to interfere—"
A faint pause.
"You're wrong."
His tone didn't change.
"I've already dealt with him."
"…He's not in any condition to fight."
—
Ragna's expression shifted.
"…What?"
—
Louis took a step forward.
"So don't worry about anything else."
"…You're all that's left."
—
The scene shifted.
—
Makoto ran without stopping—
straight toward his house.
His breath burned.
His thoughts raced.
Something… in my house?
—
He reached it—
pushed inside—
then froze.
"…Huh?"
His gaze slowly lowered.
Toward the garage.
No—
beneath it.
Something was there.
A faint glow.
Green.
Pulsing—
as if it had been waiting.
Makoto stood still—
his gaze locked onto the faint green glow beneath the garage.
It pulsed.
Slow.
Almost… alive.
"…Why does it feel like…"
He frowned slightly.
"…it's calling me?"
The thought unsettled him.
Inviting me…?
His fingers tightened slightly.
"…What is even happening…?"
He glanced toward the entrance of the garage.
That place—
He had never gone there before.
It belonged to his father.
Locked.
Untouched.
"…Should I go…?"
Silence answered him.
Then—
"…No point standing here."
He exhaled softly.
"If there's something there… I'll find out."
—
Step by step—
he moved forward.
Slow.
Careful.
The air felt heavier the closer he got.
The basement door came into view.
Old.
Rusted.
Covered in dust.
Makoto reached out—
his hand brushing against the lock.
Click.
It opened.
"…Huh?"
His brows furrowed slightly—
but he didn't stop.
The door creaked open slowly—
Crrrk—
Darkness greeted him first.
Then—
Green light.
Brighter now.
He stepped inside.
And froze.
"…What is this…?"
On the ground—
a massive steel circle was engraved into the floor.
Intricate patterns spread across its surface—
symbols, markings…
Ancient.
Unfamiliar.
Yet—A perfect circle, carved deep into the metal floor, its edges unnaturally precise… as if no human hand had ever made it.
strangely recognizable.
Makoto stepped closer—
and this time… he understood.
The circle wasn't random.
It depicted something.
A being.
—
At the center of the steel circle—
a figure was engraved in full detail.
A warrior.
Bare upper body, muscles sharply defined—
not exaggerated, but carved with precision, like a deity shaped for battle.
His stance was low, grounded—
one hand pressing against the surface beneath him…
as if restraining something.
The other hand gripped a long blade—
a sword that extended downward, piercing through the design itself.
His hair—
wild.
Flowing outward like it carried its own force,
frozen in motion.
Around his head—
a crown-like marking was engraved.
Not decorative—
symbolic.
Authority.
Divinity.
His eyes—
narrow.
Focused.
Not raging.
But controlled.
Like a god that chooses when to destroy.
—
Surrounding him—
a massive serpent-like form coiled through the outer ring.
Its body wrapped around the circle, scales etched in repeating patterns.
Its head—partially formed—
jaws open, as if mid-strike.
But it wasn't free.
The warrior's blade—
pierced through its body.
Holding it down.
Dominating it.
—
Symbols surrounded the entire scene—
but they weren't just decoration.
They formed a boundary.
A seal.
The message was clear—
even without understanding the language.
A god that slays.
A force that restrains something greater.
And at the very center—
where the warrior's presence was strongest—
the green light pulsed.
As if…
Makoto stared at the engraved circle, his brows tightening.
"…What even… is this?"
His voice echoed faintly in the silent basement.
The green light pulsed again—stronger this time.
As if responding.
—
Something caught his eye.
A paper—
worn, aged, placed carefully near the edge of the circle.
Makoto picked it up slowly.
His eyes scanned the words.
"If someone finds this…
or if you are my son…"
His breath hitched slightly.
"…then listen carefully."
"If you need this power—
speak these words."
The air grew heavier.
Makoto's grip tightened.
"…No way…"
His eyes moved to the next line.
"Shingon—"
His lips parted slightly.
"…Susanoo-no-Mikoto…"
The moment the name left his mouth—
the circle reacted.
Light surged.
The green glow intensified violently—
spreading across every engraved line.
The symbols ignited one by one.
—
Makoto froze.
"…What—?!"
His voice trembled—
but the words continued.
As if something was forcing him to finish them.
"I order you…"
His voice lowered.
Not fully his own.
"…merge with me."
The light flared—blinding.
The air cracked with pressure.
"I am the true Okutso…"
His eyes widened—
Why am I saying this…?
"…I command you to descend."
—
BOOM—!
The steel circle erupted with energy.
A violent force burst outward—
throwing Makoto back.
His body slammed against the ground—
breath knocked out of him.
"…Gah—!"
The basement shook.
The light didn't fade.
It grew stronger.
Brighter.
Unstable.
As if something—
was answering.
The light surged—
then collapsed inward.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Makoto pushed himself up slightly, his vision still shaking.
"…What… was that…?"
The glow faded—
but not completely.
Something remained.
Standing within the circle—
a figure.
Makoto's breath caught.
A man.
Bare upper body, muscles defined—not overwhelmingly massive, but perfectly balanced.
His presence alone felt… dense.
Like restrained power.
His hair moved slightly, as if reacting to an unseen current.
His eyes opened—
calm, yet ancient.
He looked directly at Makoto.
"…Did you summon me, Master?"
His voice was steady.
Certain.
As if there was no doubt.
—
Makoto froze.
"…Y-Yes…?"
His voice cracked slightly.
"…Who are you?"
—
The man straightened slightly.
"My name is…"
"Susanoo-no-Mikoto."
A faint pause.
"…A god."
His gaze didn't waver.
"…and a サーバント."
—
Makoto blinked.
"…A what?"
—
Susano exhaled softly, as if already tired.
"サーバント."
"A being who follows the command of an Okutso."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…And since you performed the summoning—"
"You are one."
—
Makoto pointed at himself.
"…Me?"
"…An Okutso?"
—
Susano stared at him for a moment.
"…You don't even know the basics?"
A faint pause.
"…Master?"
—
Makoto scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"…Well… I don't really read stuff like that."
He gave a small, sheepish grin.
—
Susano closed his eyes briefly.
"…Unbelievable."
A quiet mutter escaped him.
"So this is the one I've been summoned by…"
—
Makoto's expression twitched.
"…What did you just say?"
—
Susano opened his eyes again.
"…Nothing important."
He shifted his stance slightly—
his presence stabilizing.
"…Anyway."
"You summoned me."
"Which means…"
His gaze locked onto Makoto—
sharp now.
"…I follow your command."
A brief pause.
"…So tell me, Master."
"What is your order?"
Makoto frowned slightly, still trying to process everything.
"…So… you're saying I won't be able to see you all the time?"
Susano let out a faint breath.
"…Correct."
His gaze remained calm.
"A サーバント manifests based on the will of its Okutso."
A pause.
"…And your will is still weak."
—
Makoto blinked.
"…My will?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"So… I can just decide anything?"
—
Susano gave a faint, almost amused exhale.
"Heh."
"If only it were that simple."
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"Every Okutso possesses a 'will.'"
"That will defines the strength… the form… and the limits of their サーバント."
"…The stronger your will—"
"…the stronger I become."
—
Makoto fell silent.
"…Then how do I grow it?"
—
Susano's gaze didn't waver.
"By believing in yourself."
"By accepting your past."
"…And not running from it."
—
Silence.
Makoto's eyes lowered slightly.
…My past.
Fragments surfaced—
broken memories.
His mother's voice.
That day.
"…No…"
His hand tightened into a fist.
"…Don't—"
The memory forced itself forward.
Mother—!
His breath grew heavier.
His fist clenched tighter.
—
Susano spoke quietly.
"Your will… decides your destiny."
"…That is the path of every Okutso."
—
The scene shifted.
—
Steel clashed.
The battle between Louis and Ragna raged in the distance—
power colliding, tearing through the surroundings.
—
Susano's voice continued, steady.
"The stronger your will—"
"…the easier it becomes for us to synchronize."
"And the stronger your サーバント grows."
—
The scene returned.
Makoto stood still—
breathing slowly now.
"…What's your name?" Susano asked.
Makoto blinked.
"…Makoto Mori."
—
Susano's expression shifted—slightly.
"…I see."
A pause.
"…So you're his son."
—
Makoto frowned.
"…What?"
—
"Takashi Mori."
Susano's voice remained calm.
"…He was one of my Okutso."
—
Makoto's eyes widened.
"…You knew my father?"
—
"Yes."
A brief silence followed.
"…But we don't have time for that now."
—
Makoto's expression tightened.
"…What do you mean?"
—
Susano's gaze shifted toward the entrance.
"…Another Okutso is approaching."
His tone grew sharper.
"…And they are not friendly."
—
Makoto swallowed.
"…Then help me do something."
—
Susano looked at him.
"…You already have."
A faint pause.
"…Your will has begun to awaken."
—
Makoto blinked.
"…What?"
—
"You remembered."
Susano's voice was calm.
"…And you didn't run."
—
A faint smile formed on Makoto's lips.
"…Guess I don't have a choice."
"So this isn't a dream after all…"
—
Crash—
The wall shattered.
A figure stepped through.
Black hair.
Calm—yet dangerous.
"…That white-haired guy really thought he could finish me…"
A faint smirk appeared.
"I can heal myself."
His gaze locked onto Makoto.
"…Now it's your turn."
—
The air shifted.
Susano stepped forward.
Just as the enemy's サーバント lunged—
He moved.
Effortless.
He dodged the strike—
the attack slicing past him like it had never mattered.
The air tightened
.
The enemy's サーバント surged forward again—
violent.
Relentless.
—
Susano stepped ahead of Makoto.
His presence shifted—
heavier.
"…You will not lay a hand on my Master."
His voice was calm—
but absolute.
—
Makoto took a step forward.
His fear hadn't vanished—
but something else had replaced it.
Resolve.
"…Seriously…"
He raised his hand slowly.
"I will finish it rn "
A faint breath escaped him—
then his expression hardened.
"I'm Makoto Mori."
His hand clenched—
then swung forward.
"And I'm challenging you."
His voice rose—steady now.
"I won't hold back."
A pulse—
something ignited.
"I won't lose this battle."
—
For a moment—
the air itself stilled.
Then—
It appeared.
A faint red aura began to form around Makoto.
Flickering.
Unstable—
yet growing.
His eyes widened slightly as he looked at his own hand.
"…This… is my will?"
—
Susano glanced back—just briefly.
"…Yes."
"Do not hesitate."
"That is the power you awakened."
—
The aura intensified.
And in response—
Susano's form shifted.
His body grew slightly larger—
not monstrous—
but more complete.
More real.
His presence deepened—
like a god stepping closer to the world.
—
Makoto stared at him.
"…So this is what you meant…"
—
The scene shifted.
—
High above—
steel clashed violently.
Ragna stepped back slightly, his expression tightening for the first time.
"…What is this…?"
His eyes narrowed.
"…A new will?"
—
Louis stood calmly, his black sword resting at his side.
"…Not one."
A slight pause.
"…Two."
—
Ragna's expression darkened.
"…You knew."
His teeth clenched.
"You planned this—"
—
Louis didn't deny it.
"…I told him to go there for a reason."
His gaze remained steady.
"…I knew you'd force this outcome."
—
Ragna slammed his fist into the wall—
Boom.
"Damn it…"
"…Then I just have to end this faster."
Louis's gaze shifted—
drawn toward the distant surge of power.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…So this is the power of Susano…"
A brief pause followed.
"…At the very moment of awakening—"
"…Quite impressive"
The air trembled—
on both sides.
The black-haired Okutso stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Makoto.
"…I activate my Shingon."
The moment the words left his mouth—
a mark ignited across his neck.
Crimson.
Spreading like a living tattoo—
its design sharp, intricate…
resembling the form of a divine warrior.
—
Makoto's eyes widened.
"…Huh?"
His breath caught.
"…What is happening…?"
His thoughts raced—
but then—
he stopped.
"…No…"
A faint exhale left him.
"…It doesn't matter."
His gaze sharpened.
"Let's do this."
—
He raised his hand—
the red aura around him flaring once more.
"Use my will—"
"…and unleash your power."
—
Susano didn't hesitate.
His sword rose—
and his aura surged outward.
Dense.
Overwhelming.
The ground beneath him cracked slightly under the pressure.
—
The opposing Okutso extended his arm.
"Vidar."
His voice turned sharp—commanding.
"I command you—"
"…release your phantom."
—
The creature behind him responded instantly—
its form distorting, expanding—
its presence growing darker, heavier.
—
"Aaaah—!"
Both voices tore through the air—
raw.
Unrestrained.
—
Susano stepped forward—
blade cutting through the air.
Vidar surged to meet him—
its massive weapon descending with crushing force.
—
Clash—!
Steel met force.
The impact exploded outward—
tearing through the surroundings.
The ground split.
The air shattered.
A shockwave burst across the battlefield—
pure destruction unleashed in a single moment.
The scene shifted.
High above—
Louis's gaze flickered toward the distant surge of power.
For the first time—
his expression changed.
Slightly.
"…This level of energy…"
His eyes narrowed.
"…produced purely from will…"
A brief pause.
"…Now I understand."
"…Why he is Takashi's son."
—
Steel flashed.
Ragna's attack came fast—
but Louis moved.
Effortless.
He dodged.
—
Behind him—
Nyame advanced.
Its blade cut through the air—
forcing Magni back.
—
Louis stepped in.
Ragna met him head-on.
Clang—!
Their blades collided—
the impact tearing through the surrounding structures.
Concrete cracked.
Steel bent.
—
"…Use it," Louis said quietly.
"…as my will speaks."
—
Nyame responded instantly.
It surged upward—
then descended with a devastating strike.
Boom—!
The blow landed.
Magni staggered—
its form breaking under the force.
—
Ragna coughed—
blood trailing from his lips.
"…You're strong…"
His teeth clenched.
"…But I won't lose."
—
Magni roared—
launching another attack.
Nyame moved.
Precise.
It dodged—
then countered instantly.
Their blades clashed repeatedly—
too fast to follow.
—
Ragna's eyes sharpened.
"…Then I'll end it."
"I use my Shingon—"
—
He never finished.
Louis moved first.
A single step—
a single cut.
Slash.
Ragna's arm fell still.
—
At the same moment—
Magni's right arm froze—
completely paralyzed.
—
Louis's voice remained calm.
"You should know by now…"
"…how much it matters—"
"…when an Okutso is struck directly."
—
Ragna staggered back—
blood dripping.
"…I'll kill you…"
He gritted his teeth.
—
Louis didn't flinch.
"…You've caused enough damage here."
A faint pause.
"…Let's not complicate things further."
—
His hand moved—fast.
"My Shingon—"
"…teleport."
—
He touched Ragna.
In an instant—
everything vanished.
—
Silence.
Ragna reappeared—
in an empty, distant urban wasteland.
Broken structures.
No life.
No escape.
"…What is this place…?"
Blood dripped from his body.
"…You bastard—Louis!!"
His voice echoed into nothingness.
—
Back on the battlefield—
Louis exhaled quietly.
"…That took more effort than expected."
—
Behind him—
Nyame drove its blade forward.
Thud.
Magni's form trembled—
then collapsed.
Its body dissolved—
fading into nothing.
—
Louis lowered his gaze slightly.
"…You should return to your master."
—
Silence followed.
He reached into his pocket—
pulling out a cigarette.
A faint flame.
He inhaled slowly.
"…What a nuisance."
A brief pause.
"…Still… not enough to take me down."
The clash echoed—
then both figures were forced apart.
Susano slid back slightly.
Vidar staggered.
Both… damaged.
—
Makoto's breath hitched.
"…Why…?"
He looked at his arm—
his right arm trembling.
Injured.
Just like Susano's.
"…Why am I hurt too?"
—
Susano didn't look back.
"…Because we are bonded."
His voice remained calm.
"…Our damage is shared."
—
The enemy Okutso clicked his tongue.
"…Damn it…"
Blood ran down his side.
"…He got me at the start…"
His gaze darkened.
"…But I'll destroy you."
—
Susano moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
—
Makoto stepped forward.
"…I won't lose."
His aura surged again—
brighter.
Stronger.
The red glow intensified around him.
—
The enemy froze for a split second.
"…What the hell…?"
His eyes widened slightly.
"…This guy…"
"…His will… isn't normal."
—
Susano closed the distance in an instant—
Slash.
His blade cut across Vidar's chest.
—
"…Tch—!"
The enemy staggered.
"…Then I'll end it here."
He raised his hand.
"I command you—"
"…use my will."
"Release your full power."
—
The air distorted.
Vidar's presence surged—
darker.
Heavier.
—
Susano's gaze sharpened.
"…He's going to unleash something powerful."
—
Makoto's expression tightened.
"…Then what do I do?"
—
A brief silence.
"…Trust yourself."
"Give me your will."
—
Makoto's hand rose—
pressing against his head.
His breath grew heavy.
"…Just… do it…"
"…No hesitation."
His eyes sharpened.
"I'm giving it to you—"
"…everything."
—
The aura erupted.
Red light surged violently—
pouring into Susano.
—
Susano's blade changed.
Its form expanded—
power condensing into a single point.
"…Ame-no-Habakiri."
—
The air split.
The blade pulsed—
ready.
—
Susano stepped forward.
One motion.
One strike.
—
The enemy's eyes widened.
"…That fast—?!"
Vidar hadn't even completed its charge.
—
Slash.
Silence.
Then—
BOOM—!
The strike landed.
Light exploded outward—
consuming everything in its path.
"…No… that's impossible—!"
The enemy's voice vanished within the blast.
—
Smoke filled the air.
Then—
nothing.
The presence… gone.
—
Susano stood still for a moment.
Then—
his form began to fade.
"…You did well."
His voice was quiet.
"…Master."
And then—
he vanished.
—
Makoto dropped to his knees.
"—Cough…!"
Blood hit the ground.
His vision blurred.
His body trembled—
barely holding on.
—
A figure stood before him.
White hair.
Silent.
Watching.
—
"…So."
Louis's gaze rested on him.
"…You've done it."
A brief pause.
"…Then accept it."
"…Your destiny."
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"…You are an Okutso."
—
Makoto tried to respond—
but his strength gave out.
His body collapsed forward.
Darkness followed..
Darkness faded.
Slowly—
Makoto's eyes opened.
White ceiling.
A faint smell of antiseptic filled the air.
"…Where… am I…?"
His voice came out weak.
—
"In a hospital."
The answer came calmly.
Makoto turned his head slightly.
Louis stood nearby.
Silent.
Watching.
—
Makoto blinked.
"…So… it wasn't a dream…"
A faint exhale left him.
"…All of it… was real."
—
Louis nodded once.
"…Yes."
A brief pause.
"…And you survived."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"…Because you were meant to."
—
Makoto frowned.
"…Meant to?"
"…My destiny?"
He looked at him directly.
"…You said something like that before."
"…Protecting the world… right?"
—
Louis remained silent for a moment.
"…In a way."
He turned slightly, as if choosing his words.
"There is an organization."
"Eleven core members."
"…They maintain balance."
—
Makoto listened quietly.
"…But you won't be joining them."
Louis continued.
"but You'll join another one "
"…The Shingen Force."
"Learn. Survive. Grow."
"…That's your role—for now."
—
Makoto pushed himself up slightly.
"…Wait."
Louis glanced at him.
"…What?"
—
Makoto hesitated for a second.
"…Those guys…"
"…Who were they?"
—
Louis's expression didn't change.
"…An opposing group."
"…You can call them an enemy organization."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…And they're after you."
—
Makoto blinked.
"…Me?"
—
"…Because of him."
Louis's voice remained calm.
"…Susano."
A brief pause.
"…An elite-class god."
—
Makoto scratched his head slightly.
"…Didn't really feel that way…"
He gave a faint, awkward smile.
—
For a moment—
Louis simply looked at him.
…Just like his father.
He turned away.
—
"…Makoto Mori."
—
"…Yeah?"
—
Louis's voice grew slightly more serious.
"…Be aware of your condition."
"…And your サーバント."
—
Makoto's expression sharpened slightly.
—
"…You are bound."
"…A soul contract."
"If your サーバント is damaged—"
"…you are damaged."
"And if you are struck—"
"…it reflects back as well."
—
Makoto's eyes widened slightly.
…That's why…
A flash—
the pain in his arm.
"…I get it."
He exhaled slowly.
"…So how do I get stronger?"
—
Louis didn't hesitate.
"…Practice."
"…And experience."
"That's all there is."
—
He turned—walking toward the door.
"…And one more thing."
He paused briefly.
"…Don't push yourself too far."
A faint glance back.
"…Or you'll die."
—
The door closed.
Silence returned.
—
Makoto sat there—
processing everything.
His new reality.
—
The scene shifted.
Days later—
Makoto stepped out of the hospital.
The world looked the same.
But now—
everything had changed.
The door creaked open.
Makoto stepped inside—
"…I'm back."
—
"Hey—!"
A voice suddenly rang out.
Makoto flinched slightly.
Turning—
he saw Haruto standing there.
"Man, I missed you!" Haruto said, walking up to him.
"Where the hell were you?"
—
Makoto paused.
…Should I tell him?
A brief silence.
No… he'll think I've lost it.
—
"…Nah," Makoto said casually, scratching the back of his head.
"Just… some people broke in. Tried to rob the place."
—
Haruto froze.
"…What?"
"…That's insane."
—
Makoto gave a small shrug.
"…Yeah."
"…It was."
—
He walked past him.
Stepping further into the house—
he slowed down.
His eyes narrowed.
"…Wait…"
—
Everything looked… normal.
Too normal.
No cracks.
No damage.
Nothing.
—
Makoto blinked.
"…What the hell…?"
He made a faint, confused expression—
looking around slowly.
"…I literally saw the walls break…"
—
He moved toward the stairs.
Step by step—
checking everything.
"…No dents…"
"…No cracks…"
—
He reached his room.
The window—
intact.
Not a single scratch.
—
Makoto froze.
"…That violet-haired guy…"
His gaze fixed on the glass.
"…He broke it from here…"
—
Silence.
"…Then who fixed all of this…?"
A chill ran down his spine.
Makoto's gaze lingered on the window.
…Who fixed all of this?
The thought echoed in his mind—
unanswered.
—
"I did."
The voice came from behind him.
—
Makoto froze.
Slowly—
he turned.
A woman stood there.
Calm.
As if she had always been there.
—
"…You…?"
Makoto blinked in confusion.
"…Wait—"
"…Are you with that white-haired guy?"
—
The woman tilted her head slightly.
"…White-haired guy?"
A faint pause.
"…Ah."
"…You mean Louis."
—
Makoto nodded quickly.
"Yeah—him."
—
She gave a small, knowing smile.
"…The one who saved you yesterday."
—
Makoto let out a short breath.
"…Yeah. That guy."
—
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then—
she turned away.
"…Anyway."
"…I have to go."
—
"Wait—!"
Makoto stepped forward.
—
Too late.
She leapt toward the window—
her figure cutting through the air effortlessly.
—
And then—
she was gone.
As if she had never been there at all.
—
Silence returned.
Makoto slowly lowered himself to the floor.
"…What was that…?"
He exhaled shakily.
"…She just—"
"…vanished…"
His gaze drifted toward the window again.
"…Like she wasn't even here."
Makoto remained seated for a moment—
his thoughts still unsettled.
"…Wait…"
He frowned slightly.
"…Did he ever tell me his name…?"
A brief pause.
"…Louis…"
A faint smile formed.
"…So that's the white-haired guy's name."
—
His expression shifted—
growing more serious.
"…More importantly…"
"…what really happened to Susano?"
—
I am here.
The voice echoed—
clear.
Close.
—
Makoto froze.
"…What—?"
He looked around instinctively.
"…Where is that coming from?"
—
From within you.
Susano's voice remained calm.
Your inner mind.
—
Makoto blinked.
"…So… you're inside me?"
—
Bound to you.
I will manifest only when you call for me.
Otherwise… I remain here.
—
Silence followed.
Makoto slowly exhaled.
"…So that's how it works…"
His gaze lowered slightly—
thoughtful now.
Makoto leaned back slightly—
a faint smile forming on his lips.
"…Guess my life turned into something… huh."
He let out a quiet breath.
"…So it wasn't a dream after all."
—
He paused.
"…Wait…"
His expression shifted slightly.
"…His voice…"
Silence.
Susano was gone.
"…So he only speaks when he wants to…"
—
Makoto exhaled softly.
"…Guess I'll have to figure things out myself."
—
He stood up slowly.
"…Saving the world, huh…"
A faint, almost amused smile appeared.
"…Yeah… right."
—
He walked toward his bed.
"…For now…"
"…I just need sleep."
—
Without another thought—
he dropped onto the bed.
The exhaustion caught up instantly.
His eyes closed.
And within moments—
he was asleep.
Darkness.
A familiar voice echoed softly.
"Makoto…"
He turned—
his eyes widening.
"…Mom?"
She stood there.
Distant.
Unreachable.
"Makoto… you shouldn't come here."
—
His expression trembled.
"…Why?"
He stepped forward.
"…Why not…?"
"…Don't you want me here?"
—
Before she could answer—
a hand suddenly gripped him from behind.
Tight.
Cold.
—
"…What—?!"
The ground beneath him vanished.
He fell.
Deeper—
and deeper—
into darkness.
—
"—!"
Makoto's eyes snapped open.
His breath came out uneven.
"…What was that…?"
—
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The alarm rang beside him.
8:00 AM.
—
He sat up slowly—
one hand resting against his head.
"…That dream…"
It lingered.
Unsettling.
—
The scene shifted.
—
The road to school felt the same as always.
Students passing by.
Conversations.
Normal.
—
Makoto walked quietly—
his bag slung over his shoulder.
"…Hey—Makoto!"
—
He looked up.
Haruto waved at him, jogging closer.
"I got new manga today!"
"I'm gonna collect everything—then start my own manga sect!"
—
Makoto forced a small response.
"…Oh… nice."
—
His thoughts, however—
were elsewhere.
That dream…
It felt too real.
Just like before…
The fight… the サーバント…
Is it all connected…?
—
And that hand…
Who was pulling me…?
—
"Oi."
Haruto leaned slightly closer.
"Something wrong?"
—
Makoto blinked.
"…No."
A short pause.
"…Just thinking about my date."
—
Haruto sighed instantly.
"Yeah, makes sense."
"Honestly, I'm jealous."
"I don't even have a girl—and you've got one."
—
Makoto froze mid-step.
"…Wait."
His eyes widened.
"…My date—"
"…I didn't even call her."
—
He grabbed his head.
"…No way…"
—
Without another word—
he stepped aside and sat down nearby.
Pulling out his phone—
he checked his messages.
Multiple notifications.
"Where are you?"
"Why didn't you come?"
—
"…Ahh…"
He exhaled in frustration.
"…I'm done."
—
He typed quickly.
"Sorry. I was busy."
—
He sent it.
Then stood up again.
—
Haruto looked at him.
"…That's kinda weird, man."
Makoto let out a small sigh—
then smiled faintly.
"…What a pain in the ass "
—
Haruto crossed his arms, shaking his head.
"You're seriously lucky, you know that?"
—
The scene shifted.
—
The classroom settled into its usual rhythm.
Pages turning.
The low murmur of students.
A normal day—
or at least, it should have been.
—
Makoto sat by the window.
His gaze drifted outside—
absent.
—
Then—
he saw her.
A girl standing at a distance.
Brown hair, gently swaying in the wind.
Her eyes—
fixed directly on him.
—
Makoto frowned slightly.
"…Who…?"
—
And then—
she vanished.
As if she had never been there.
—
Makoto's eyes narrowed.
"…Who is she…?"
—
"Makoto."
—
No response.
"Makoto!"
—
He snapped back to reality.
"…Huh?"
—
The teacher stared at him.
"…Care to tell me where your focus is?"
—
Makoto quickly stood up.
"Y-Yes, sir."
"…I was listening."
—
A few students chuckled.
—
The teacher sighed.
"…Then read."
"It's your turn."
—
Laughter spread across the room.
—
Makoto scratched his head slightly—
still distracted.
…That girl…
Who was she…?
Makoto's gaze lingered toward the window.
"Who was she…?" he muttered faintly.
Before he could dwell on it further, a familiar presence approached.
"Oh… I didn't see you, Shinya. Yo."
Standing before him was Kamiya Shinya—calm, composed, carrying that same quiet elegance.
"Oh," Kamiya replied gently, "hey. Are you alright? I heard you got robbed by someone."
Makoto blinked.
"…How do you know that?"
He gave a small nod to himself.
"Yeah… it's definitely Haruto."
Kamiya's expression softened slightly.
"Are you okay now?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Makoto answered. "Why do you ask?"
Kamiya smiled—subtle, almost reassuring.
"It's nothing. I was just worried about you… that's all."
He paused for a moment.
"After all… don't forget, I made a promise."
—
A fleeting memory surfaced—
"I promise… I'll never leave you."
—
Makoto let out a small breath.
"Yeah… those were the days. When you saved me from that tree… you've saved me multiple times."
Kamiya gave a faint nod.
"Anyway," he continued, shifting the topic, "I need you to find something for me."
Makoto raised an eyebrow.
"What is it?"
"A book."
Kamiya smiled again—slight, composed.
Then, he adjusted his posture—standing just like that calm, confident stance… exactly as he always did.
"You'll know what kind of book soon enough," Kamiya said calmly.
—
The scene shifted.
Inside the library, silence reigned.
Rows of shelves stood in perfect order as both of them searched through the books.
"Pass me that one… Ikigai."
Makoto picked it up and handed it over.
"What's it about?" he asked.
Kamiya glanced at the cover before answering.
"Well… the core idea of this book is simple."
He paused briefly.
"Finding purpose… and fulfillment—so one can live a longer, happier life."
Makoto blinked slightly.
"…Is that so?"
Kamiya nodded.
"Yeah. If you want, I can give it to you after I finish reading."
Makoto gave a small, casual smile.
"Yeah… I'll try it later."
He chuckled lightly, a bit awkwardly.
In his hand, the book felt heavier than it should.
In his mind he said
"Actually… I'm not even interested in these kinds of books…"
Makoto exhaled lightly.
"Anyway… what other books?"
Kamiya paused for a moment, thinking.
"…Let me guess. Baba Yaga."
Makoto blinked.
"Sounds familiar… but let's see if I can find it."
—
He moved along the shelves.
"Baba Yaga… Baba Yaga… where did it go…?"
He climbed up slightly, checking the upper rows.
"Not here…"
He stepped down, moving to another section.
"…Where could it be…"
Then—
"Oh… here it is."
He pulled the book out.
"Baba Yaga."
Kamiya turned his gaze toward it.
"…So it is."
For a brief second—
The book trembled.
Just slightly.
Kamiya's lips curved into a faint smile as he took it.
Makoto frowned a little.
"…What was that…?"
He shook his head.
"Never mind… probably nothing."
—
Kamiya reached his hand toward another shelf.
Makoto glanced at him.
"…What is he doing?"
His hand moved closer—
Makoto stiffened slightly.
"…What—?"
Kamiya's fingers brushed against a book and pulled it out.
"No Longer Human… by Osamu Dazai."
Makoto inhaled quietly.
"…I thought he was going to do something…"
He looked away slightly.
"…What am I even thinking…"
Kamiya glanced at him.
"I can see you're thinking something else."
A gentle smile.
Makoto quickly responded,
"No—no, it's not like that."
He shook his head.
"…No."
—
Makoto looked at him again.
"Hey, Shinya."
Kamiya, still holding the book, replied,
"Yes?"
"…Do you think you can read my mind? Like… what I'm thinking?"
Kamiya paused.
"…Not exactly."
He looked at Makoto calmly.
"I can't read your thoughts directly."
A brief silence.
"But I can observe."
"Your expressions… your posture… your reactions."
He continued, voice steady.
"Sometimes you look sad. Sometimes… distant."
Then—
"…Your parents."
A slight pause.
"They affected you a lot."
Makoto fell silent for a moment.
"…Yeah."
—
He shifted his gaze.
"Hey, Shinya…"
"…Do you think I understand myself?"
A small pause.
"Because sometimes… I don't even know what's going on."
—
Kamiya stopped.
For a moment—
His expression changed.
Serious.
Quiet.
Then—
Slowly—
A gentle smile returned to his face.
He stood there… in that same composed posture.
Watching Makoto.
Kamiya looked at him quietly.
"Well… about that," he began, his voice calm, measured, "I think what you're facing is something like a puzzle."
A brief pause.
"Your mind… it doesn't seem settled."
He shifted his gaze slightly.
"I can't say I understand you completely. But from what I see… you're dealing with your own trauma."
Another pause.
"Maybe you're encountering something new. Something you haven't faced before."
His tone remained gentle.
"And understanding yourself… is part of that process."
—
Makoto stared at him, slightly taken aback.
—
Kamiya continued,
"As the philosopher Lao Tzu once said—"
"He who knows others is wise. He who knows himself… is enlightened."
—
Makoto remained silent.
—
"So," Kamiya said softly, "you may understand others…"
"…but not yourself."
A faint smile formed.
"That's where the problem lies."
He looked directly at Makoto.
"Take your time."
"Get to know yourself."
"Then… you'll understand who you really are."
A small pause.
"…And if I can help, even a little…"
Makoto remained silent for a moment.
"…I see."
—
The scene shifted.
On the way home—
Makoto walked alone, hands in his pockets.
"…So what did he mean?"
He muttered under his breath.
"I have to think… about myself?"
A brief pause.
"In short… that's it, right?"
—
He let out a small breath.
"…Yeah."
"I can do that.
Makoto stopped walking.
A small smile formed on his face.
"…Alright."
"Let's see how I can prepare myself."
He picked up a stick from the ground.
"…Let's do this."
He tightened his grip.
"I'll become the strongest Okutso… right?"
A short pause—
"…Yeah. Let's go."
—
He swung the stick once.
Then again.
Again—
—
From another dimension, Susano watched.
"…What is he doing?"
A brief silence.
"…I still wonder why my master is this… foolish."
He gave a slight nod.
—
Makoto smiled to himself.
"Now… I'll become someone who can achieve it."
—
Crack.
The stick snapped in his hand.
"…What?"
"How did it break?"
—
Susano exhaled.
"…Seriously."
"That man… isn't very smart."
"…It was just a stick."
Fujiko stood there.
"…Hey, Makoto Mori."
—
Makoto paused.
"…Huh?"
He looked up—
"…Oh. It's you."
A brief pause.
"…What was your name again…?"
"…Or did you even tell me?"
—
She looked at him calmly.
"…Fujiko Eto."
"My full name."
—
Makoto nodded slightly.
"…Ahh, got it."
"So that's your name."
—
Fujiko continued,
"You've been invited to the Shingen Force."
"Because you have potential."
"And you can do a lot with it."
"…So yes—you'll be joining."
—
Makoto blinked.
"…Me?"
—
"Yeah," she replied.
"I heard it from Louis. He already decided."
A small pause.
"…So, are we going?"
—
Before he could say much—
She moved.
—
The scene shifted.
—
They were in the air.
—
Makoto's eyes widened slightly.
"…What is this?"
—
"…An ability," Fujiko answered calmly.
—
Makoto looked around, the world below shrinking.
"…That's… actually pretty cool."
A faint smile appeared.
—
The wind rushed past as they moved forward.
—
"…You've been in this for long?" he asked.
—
"…Yeah," she replied simply.
—
Moments later—
They descended.
—
Before them stood—
Shingen Force
—
Both of them stepped forward.
—
And entered.
Makoto landed.
His eyes widened as he looked ahead.
"…Wow…"
"…It's huge."
"So this is the academy…?"
A brief pause.
"…Is this where I'll be living?"
—
Fujiko glanced at him.
"…Yes."
"But first—you need to pass a test."
A short pause.
"…You'll get in, most likely."
"But it's required."
—
Makoto nodded slightly.
"…I see."
A small smile formed on his face.
"…Then let's do it."
"I'll pass."
Makoto looked around slightly.
"…Speaking of it… where is Louis?"
—
Fujiko replied calmly,
"…Don't you know?"
"…He's one of the Eleven."
—
Makoto paused—
then nodded.
"…Oh… yeah."
A faint smile appeared.
"…So where are they?"
—
Before she could answer—
A presence approached.
—
A strange-looking guy stood there—
staring directly at Makoto.
—
Makoto stepped back slightly.
"…Who is this guy…?"
He looked at him in a confused way.
—
The guy was chewing his nails.
Slowly.
—
Fujiko spoke,
"…Meet him."
"…Rohan Kisuke."
"…Son of Haruki Yoshida."
"…A well-known member in this squad."
"…He directly assists the Eleven."
"…He's also a member of the Shingen Force."
A brief pause.
"…Though… he's a bit… unusual."
—
Rohan continued chewing his nails.
Then—
in a slightly eerie tone—
"…Nice to meet you…"
—
Makoto forced a response.
"…Yeah… nice to meet you. I'm Makoto."
—
They shook hands.
—
Makoto froze.
"…Wait—what is this…?"
He looked at his hand.
"…Why is it sticky…?"
—
He slowly looked back at Rohan.
"…Don't tell me that's from your mouth…"
—
Rohan said nothing.
Still chewing.
—
Makoto immediately pulled his hand back.
"…Nah—no—no—"
"…You're dirty as hell—"
—
"Hey—!"
—
Before he could finish—
Makoto bumped into someone.
—
"…Ah—sorry!"
The blond-haired man stood upright, his posture straight yet relaxed, as if balance itself bent naturally around him.
His frame was lean, but not weak—there was a quiet, refined strength in the way his shoulders were set. Not bulky, not exaggerated… but precise. Every movement he could make would be controlled, efficient.
His coat—light-colored, almost white—rested smoothly over his body, tailored close enough to define his structure without restricting it. The fabric fell cleanly along his arms and torso, giving him a composed, almost formal presence.
Beneath it, a darker inner shirt contrasted sharply, drawing attention toward his center. The open collar revealed part of his upper chest, where a black choker encircled his neck.
From it hung a cross pendant.
It remained still—yet noticeable. Not ornamental in excess, but deliberate.
His arms rested naturally at his sides, neither tense nor idle. The positioning suggested readiness without effort… like someone who didn't need to prepare to act.
His overall build conveyed:
Not brute force—
but discipline.
Not aggression—
but control.
—
He didn't look like someone who fights wildly.
He looked like someone who never wastes a single motion.
Makoto and Fujiko stood still for a moment.
"Hey, sir… are you okay?" Fujiko asked.
The blond-haired man straightened slightly, his expression calm.
"I am fine now," he replied, a gentle smile forming on his lips.
His gaze shifted toward Makoto.
"Oh… is that the new recruit who is going to join our Shingen Force?"
Fujiko nodded. "Yes. His name is Makoto Mori."
The man's smile remained.
"I see."
Makoto hesitated for a second, then spoke, "Nice to meet you, sir."
The blond-haired man inclined his head slightly.
"My name is Araki Amatsuka. It's a pleasure to meet you."
He paused briefly, then continued,
"I hope you do well. I have expectations… The Mori family has held great potential for decades."
His eyes narrowed just slightly, not in hostility—but in recognition.
"Their favored power… Susanoo-no-Mikoto."
"The strongest of that era."
Before Makoto could respond—
A voice interrupted.
"Sir Araki—we have a situation in the Tokyo area."
Araki turned his head slightly.
"Is that so…?"
His smile didn't fade.
"Let's go, then."
Without another word, he moved—calm, composed, and decisive.
—
Makoto stood there for a moment, still processing.
"…Wow."
"That was… kind of awesome."
Fujiko crossed her arms lightly.
"Yeah. You could say that. He's a cool guy."
Makoto looked back in the direction Araki had left
Fujiko nodded.
"He became the head of the Shingen Force at a very young age."
Makoto blinked.
"…Seriously?"
"Yeah," she replied. "I think he's only about three years older than you. Maybe."
Makoto's gaze shifted—
—and then he froze.
A familiar figure sat there.
Blond hair. Calm posture.
"…Richard?"
He stepped forward, eyes widening slightly.
"Hey—Richard? Is that you? You've changed a lot… remember me? It's me—"
Richard glanced at him, uninterested.
"…Who are you again?"
Silence.
Makoto's body slackened for a second, his expression collapsing into disbelief.
"…What?"
He pointed at himself, frustrated.
"It's me, you genius—your friend! Makoto Mori! The one who used to hang out with you all the time!"
Richard stared for a moment—
—and then snapped his fingers lightly.
"Oh… Mr. Joker."
Makoto twitched.
"Yeah. I remember you."
A pause.
Makoto's eyebrow twitched harder.
"…What did you just call me?"
Before it could escalate—
Fujiko stepped in, raising her hand slightly.
"Alright, alright. Calm down. No need to start a fight already."
She glanced between them.
"You two will be in the same team."
Makoto blinked.
"…What?"
Fujiko continued, casually—
"Team 15."
She added with a slight smile,
"And yeah… it's considered a lucky number."
Makoto exhaled sharply.
"…What a coincidence."
Richard leaned back slightly, his tone indifferent.
"So I have to work with you…?"
A brief pause.
"…Fine. I don't have a problem—as long as you don't disturb me."
Makoto's expression darkened slightly.
"…What did you say?"
—
Scene shift.
A dark room.
Silence.
A woman stood within the shadows, her figure barely visible.
Her eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness as she watched.
Slowly—
she ran her tongue across her lips.
"…This is going to be interesting."
faint sound broke the silence.
The window shifted slightly—
—and someone stepped in.
"So tell me… Himeno Amano."
A voice, calm yet curious.
"Do you like that boy?"
She didn't turn immediately.
Instead, a slow smile formed on her lips.
"Maybe…"
Her gaze lingered, distant—yet focused.
"He looks… interesting."
A brief pause.
"that red hair boy what's he's name ?"
The man beside her answered without hesitation.
"Makoto Mori. That's what I've heard."
Silence returned for a moment.
Then—
Himeno Amano smiled.
"Interesting…"
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Makoto Mori.
Makoto frowned slightly, his gaze drifting around.
"…Feels strange."
He paused.
"Like someone's watching us… don't you think?"
Richard didn't react immediately.
Then—
"…Yeah. I feel it too."
His tone remained calm.
"Why do you ask?"
Makoto exhaled lightly.
"…Never mind."
A brief silence passed.
Then Makoto turned toward him again.
"Hey, Richard… what's your サーバント's name?"
Richard tilted his head slightly.
"…Horus."
Makoto blinked.
"Horus…? Like my Susano?"
For the first time, Richard's expression shifted.
"…You have Susano?"
A flicker of realization crossed his face.
"…I see."
He looked at Makoto more carefully now.
"So that's why they selected you."
Makoto frowned.
"…What do you mean?"
Richard turned away slightly.
"You'll understand… soon enough."
Makoto let out a small breath.
"…Now that's just greedy."
He shook his head slightly.
"Anyway… who else is in the team?"
Before anyone could answer—
A girl approached.
Brown hair, quiet presence.
She stepped forward from behind, her gaze steady.
Makoto narrowed his eyes slightly.
"…Hey."
A pause.
"I know you… right? From school?"
The girl looked at him—calm, unreadable.
"…Do we know each other?"
Makoto blinked.
"…Maybe."
He studied her more carefully.
"Then why were you looking at me like that before?"
No response.
Silence.
Makoto frowned slightly.
…Who is she?
Fujiko stepped in.
"She's part of Team 15."
A brief pause.
"Her name is Sei Yamade."
Makoto's expression shifted.
"…Huh?"
"She's in the team too?"
He glanced between them.
"…Is this all planned or something?"
No answer came.
Makoto exhaled, a small smile forming.
"…Maybe I'm just overthinking it."
Then—
he looked forward again.
"So… where's the test?"
The scene shifted.
High above the city—
Kamiya Shinya stood alone.
Rain fell quietly, each drop tracing the cold air as it descended.
He stood near the edge of the building, unmoving.
His gaze remained fixed on the distance below.
Watching.
Observing.
—
Droplets brushed against his face, yet he made no effort to move.
"…I see."
His voice was low.
Calm.
Almost distant.
—
A faint smile formed on his lips.
"…This might turn out to be interesting."
—
The rain continued to fall.
And without another word—
The scene faded to black.