Chapter 1: The Clerical Error
Have you ever had a dream so real you couldn't even tell it was a dream? What happens when that dream becomes reality? When does that dream become your whole life? This is the story of how I fell asleep and woke up in a fantasy world.
It all started on a Thursday. Not just any Thursday, though—it was a genuinely good one. I had survived my advanced engineering lectures, hit every green light on the way back to my quiet, empty apartment, and finally finished panel-lining my latest Gunpla model. I figured, you know what? How about an early night for once?
I closed my eyes in my own bed, listening to the familiar, mechanical hum of my AC unit. But when I opened them, the hum was gone.
Instead of the orange glow of streetlights bleeding through my blinds, I was staring up at a canopy of leaves thick enough to block out a sky I didn't recognize. The air was biting and cold, smelling sharply of ancient pine and crackling ozone instead of city smog. I sat up, my sneakers sinking into damp, spongy moss. My brain misfired for a solid ten seconds as I looked around the endless, towering timberline.
I should have known an early night was too good to be true. My memory was a blur after turning off the lamp, a single, violent, white-hot flash dominating my final moment. One second I was drifting off to sleep, and the next, a blinding spike of pure energy had slammed through me. I didn't even have time to register the pain before my entire world went silent. I was nineteen, and I had been struck by lightning in my own apartment.
Because now, here I am—stranded in a dense, unfamiliar forest with no civilization in sight.
Don't get me wrong, I love the whole Isekai trope as much as the next guy, but come on. At least drop me somewhere with a map, or maybe a starting village. I stand in a clearing under a massive, ancient tree, just wondering what to do next when, out of the blue, an envelope falls from the sky in a shower of glittering light...
It halts in mid-air, hovering right in front of my face.
I stare at it. I don't scream. I don't panic. Honestly, the absolute silence of this forest isn't much different from the silence of my apartment back home. I grab the envelope out of sheer wonder and crack the seal.
[Hello my friend. I'm truly sorry for the confusion, but it seems you died and unfortunately for both of us, it was way before your time. A simple clerical error—it could happen to anyone! But when it happens to me, people like you turn up. — The Unbound]
I stare at the glowing text in silent disbelief.
"What do you mean, a clerical error?" I shout at the hovering parchment. "Are you saying you killed me by accident?!"
Of course, there's no response. Still, it had to be said. How wild is all this? I think to myself, shaking my head before continuing to read. I don't feel a sudden, crushing urge to find a way back to Earth. There is no family waiting for me to come home for dinner. Just a desk with a plastic robot on it. If this is a second chance, I might as well see where it goes.
[You are now in the world of Alteria, inheriting the legacy of the last son of House Argentum—a noble line tasked with protecting this land and forging its future. But what you do with this new life is entirely up to you. You are a free man, and now it's time to walk your own path. As an apology, I will grant you my name and some power to make your life a bit easier. This power will be yours uniquely, suited to your circumstances. Move with caution, but go with grace. May Alteria light your path, young one.]
As I read the final sentence, the letter dissolves into starlight and flows directly into my chest.
Instantly, a word echoes through my ribs, ringing like a heavy hammer striking an anvil.
Argentum.
It doesn't just feel like a name; it feels physical. Like cold, polished silver. Like a dormant forge deep in my chest suddenly waiting to be lit.
Immediately, I feel it. Something is searching, weighing, and assessing the core of who I am. Then, I feel the question. It isn't a voice, per se, but a profound sensation—a pure, unadulterated intent ringing through my mind, asking something fundamental about my very soul.
I close my eyes and sink deep into myself, chasing that feeling. I know exactly what it's asking. After all, this is my Isekai, and there's one thing an engineering nerd absolutely cannot go without in a new reality.
What is your deepest desire? The presence asks.
With the biggest smile I've ever had, I declare my wish. "Magic!"
And with that, my world explodes.
So, at first, I'm thinking, Okay, haha, he killed me twice. Because of course he did.
You might say exploding isn't a real sensation, but I respectfully disagree. My blood turns to literal battery acid. I feel every part of my being expand outward, pushing way past the physical limits of my human body. The sound of grinding gears and shearing metal drowns out the forest as my consciousness violently shrinks back down—so small and so dense that I think I'm going to collapse into a localized black hole.
But that isn't even the worst of it. The worst part is the sheer volume of data. Thousands of magics, physical laws, sorceries, structural formulas, and every other mystical moniker you can think of flash through my brain like a high-speed slot machine right inside my soul.
And then... it stops.
I feel myself reach out. Not with my hands, not with my physical body, but with me. I know that makes no sense, but that's exactly how it feels. A core part of my being reaches out for a missing piece of myself, locks onto it, and pulls it within. Suddenly, I feel a profound weight settling into my bones. A sense of shaping, refining, and absolute sovereignty over metal. I feel whole.
But before I can even process what I just grabbed, the cosmic slot machine starts up again, spinning at an even more blinding speed. I can feel it mixing and matching, running variables to find pieces that fit perfectly with my soul.
It slams to a halt just as quickly, forcing me to reach out and grab a second piece. This one feels heavy, grounded, and intensely structural. Like breathing life into stone.
Then it spins for a third and final time. I reach out and grab a volatile, roaring spark of raw energy.
By this point, my mind is completely redlined. Stretched so incredibly thin by the sheer weight of the universe downloading into my skull, I can't process a single thing more.
Everything fades to black.