Nagazora City, Chiba Academy.
A gentle spring breeze drifted in through the open window, causing the white curtain to flutter like a veil of silk. Sunlight filtered through the fabric, casting soft, shifting patterns across the desk.
From the men's dormitory, one could see the athletic field below. The distant sound of cheers and laughter from a lively co-ed volleyball game rose into the air. The energy of youth was infectious, reflected in the grey-eyed young man watching from his window.
He had dark hair and delicate features, dressed neatly in a pressed white shirt. His hands rested on a notebook placed atop his laptop, his gaze lost in the lively scene below, as if quietly savoring the vitality of spring.
After a long moment, he adjusted his rimless glasses and began tapping on the keyboard.
"Nineteen years in this world, and it remains persistently peaceful—a strange, unsettling illusion. The disaster I remember so clearly feels like a dream in the daylight."
"But it's coming. When civilization collapses, the youth on that field, the lovers holding each other tight… they'll vanish like grains of sand in a storm. And I know there's no running from it."
His fingers paused over the keyboard. The tone felt a bit too dramatic, maybe even self-important—but after hesitating for a second, he simply kept staring out the window.
He could still recall it: the moment, nineteen years ago, when his will surged back to life. The sheer joy he'd felt upon seeing the glowing birth chamber—believing for a moment that heaven had opened its eyes.
He'd been reborn. And not just as anyone, but as a wealthy heir. At the time, he swore he wouldn't act like some spoiled rich kid, vowing to stay grounded.
But reality had a way of teaching hard truths. Sure, the wealth was real. Unfortunately…
"This is the Honkai world. And worse—it's the Previous Era."
He rubbed his temples, unsure how to react. Even with all the knowledge of a "Skipper," he understood how messed up things were.
A catastrophe known as "Honkai" tore through the world, bringing monsters and Herrschers. In the Current Era, people might survive long enough to see Valkyries fight. But the Previous Era?
That was hell.
He'd even written it into his novel: the world in ruins, civilization shattered, survivors scattered. A pampered heir wouldn't last a week, let alone live to see Valkyries in action.
He'd agonized over this for years—but he'd accepted it.
"If I want to live, I need to fight for it. Luckily, I arrived early, with time to prepare… and I found a small hope."
The confusion in his gaze faded, replaced by calm determination.
It was simple: if he couldn't defeat the future, he'd survive it. Claw his way through, no matter what.
Returning to the present, he was about to revise his writing when the sound of the dorm door opening caught his attention. A familiar voice followed.
"Ryan, writing again? It's such a nice day—why aren't you at club activities?"
A young man with white hair rushed in, wearing a basketball uniform. His face glistened with sweat, and he radiated warmth and energy.
Ryan didn't look away. "Because I don't feel like showering. And I'd rather not be chased around by screaming fangirls like someone else."
He shifted in his chair, adjusted his glasses, and muttered, "I came all the way to Nagazora thinking I'd find a big shot to stick with. Turns out all I got was a shiny title."
That sigh of resignation wasn't just for show. Even as a time-traveler, Ryan knew who Kevin was—a future giant of the Honkai world. But after two years of friendship, Kevin seemed almost disappointingly normal.
Sure, he was an incredible basketball player. But there was nothing superhuman or terrifying about him. He could've stepped right out of a sports manga, not a world-shaking Flame-Chaser legend.
"Nonsense. My heart only belongs to Mei." Kevin grinned. They'd been roommates since high school, and he knew Ryan was just teasing. He leaned over to peek at the screen.
"Man, you're still writing this weird stuff? An apostle that destroys civilization? Where do you come up with this?"
Slap!
Ryan snapped the notebook shut without changing expression. But like any writer caught in the act, his ears flushed slightly.
Clearing his throat, he muttered, "A mix of personal experience, fantasy, and artistic license."
"Personal experience?" Kevin raised an eyebrow, absorbing what little he'd read about reincarnation, apostles, and a place called New Tokyo-3. "Ryan, you're a total weirdo. Do you at least make money off this?"
"It does fine. But you know I don't care about money."
"Then why write so much?"
Ryan smiled faintly. "Part hobby. Part… looking for friends."
The novel he was writing borrowed from familiar canon, swapping out the Herrscher of the Void for a second apostle. If any other reincarnators were out there, they might recognize it.
After all, he—an outcast playing the beta version of Star Rail—somehow wound up in the nightmare of the Previous Era.
Kevin didn't dwell on the "friends" bit. He changed into a T-shirt, grabbed his bike keys from the drawer, and glanced back at his roommate, still staring out the window.
"Ahem. Mei's back from the Mu Continent. Want to go pick her up with me?"
"The physics conference ended already?" Ryan turned, slowly cleaning his glasses.
"Yeah, flight's tonight. Didn't you have a spot in that conference panel? Why didn't you go?"
Kevin remembered Ryan was one of the academy's top students. When he overheard him and Mei casually discussing things like quantum entanglement and imaginary number fields, he always felt like a caveman beside them.
"Not worth the time. I just helped with some data for the 'Negentropy' paper. And honestly, watching you two act all lovey-dovey makes me want to throw up. Go ask Su instead."
"Su? You kidding? Med school's hell. And he's not a freak like you two, finishing your entire first-year curriculum by spring." Kevin snorted, checking his watch. "Anyway, are you coming or not? If yes, we're getting noodles later."
Two years ago, after the Herrscher of the Void snuffed out his final hope, Ryan's decision to approach Kevin and Mei hadn't been purely out of goodwill.
But time changed things. Whether it was genuine affection that had grown between them, or simply the madness creeping in from constantly thinking about the doomed Previous Era, even Ryan wasn't sure anymore.
Surviving was important—but so was the path you took to get there. He didn't want to become some creature driven solely by the instinct to live.
The warmth of spring outside his window, the laughter of students, Kevin's brightness—all of it was real. Not just comforting illusions.
"I'll go. I'll go with you…" Ryan stood up, but midway through adjusting his glasses, his hand froze. His expression shifted subtly.
"Huh?" Kevin blinked, confused by the sudden change.
"Forget it. I just remembered—I've got something to take care of." Ryan turned back to the window, eyes narrowing behind the lenses. He muttered, "It's happening again. These persistent, meddlesome ghosts…"
Kevin didn't understand, but by now he was used to Ryan's cryptic ways. He simply threw on his jacket and waved as he left.
"All right then. I'm heading out."
VROOM—
The motorcycle's roar faded into the distance. Ryan stood still by the window, watching Kevin disappear. With a quiet sigh, he closed his laptop and whispered:
"You guys are lucky. Living your simple college lives, untouched. Me? I've already stepped beyond the edge. I know too much. There's no pretending."
There was no sadness in his voice, no frustration—just a kind of quiet resignation. Since that first encounter with the Honkai ten years ago, he had already grown used to this kind of life.
He opened the wardrobe. Inside was a sparse collection of clothes. From the back, he pulled out a heavy black duffel bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out.
The soccer game had ended. Students crowded the walkways, chatting over lunchboxes. Ryan moved through them unnoticed, a lone figure disappearing into the crowd.
Chiba Academy stretched from elementary school to university—a rare private institution with grounds large enough to feel like its own town.
The university was in the northern district, far from central Nagazora. Beyond its southern boundary, most buildings were old and half-abandoned, awaiting demolition. In time, the area would be transformed into a new expansion of the campus.
Ryan stood atop a pile of rubble, staring at the dim lights flickering in crumbling buildings ahead. The original owners were long gone, compensated and relocated. Now the ruins were home to vagrants and troublemakers.
Behind him stood the academy wall—clean, imposing—a visible line dividing wealth and chaos. But Ryan didn't care for politics. He simply wrinkled his nose.
"Honkai reeks in places like this. Does it favor decay and silence?" he scoffed, baring his teeth.
The Honkai was erratic, its appearances never predictable. And yet, it always seemed to creep into forgotten corners—giving 'Fire Moth' room to act quietly, hidden behind the veil of normalcy. Like this wall—an invisible barrier keeping the public safe from the horrors on the other side.
But ever since the Herrscher of the Void awakened, things had been escalating.
Ryan took out his phone, sent a short message to a private contact, then, without waiting for a reply, turned and walked toward the crumbling buildings.
The structures loomed four to five stories tall, their facades cracked and covered in moss. The breeze that blew past felt hollow, stirring loose wires and filling the air with an eerie crackling. Otherwise, the place was still. Too still.
No beggars. No punks. Not even the usual police patrols. Something was wrong.
Thump.
Ryan dropped the black duffel bag to the ground, kicking up dust. He stood motionless until he heard it—footsteps, many of them, scuffling in uneven rhythm. The sound was familiar. Too familiar.
Low-level Zombies.
His face showed no reaction. He slowly unzipped the bag and drew out a long, cylindrical case. With practiced ease, he pulled from it a sleek black spear, nearly two meters long.
Click. Click. Click.
Metal parts clicked into place as the weapon unfolded. Its surface gleamed darkly under the gray light.
Ryan stared at the spear's tip, razor-sharp and humming faintly with red energy. A line from his earlier writing echoed in his mind:
"Escape is futile. There are no thighs to cling to…"
Bang!
The spear shot forward. The tip ignited with an ominous crimson glow. It pierced the wall like a hot blade through wax.
Splash.
Through the newly formed hole, the grotesque face of a zombie came into view. Its features were bloated, warped—like a rotting watermelon. The reflection of that abomination flickered across Ryan's glasses. His gray eyes were calm and unreadable.
He shifted his grip on the shaft, body tightening in a controlled stance.
BOOM—
Red energy carved through the air, sweeping out in an arc like a reaper's scythe. The wall and the dozen Zombies behind it were annihilated in a single devastating blast.
The crumbling barrier collapsed completely.
Ryan stepped over the rubble, gaze scanning the hallways and ruined structures. He could see them—humans twisted by Honkai corruption, and other strange things lurking on the rooftops.
"Only by slaughtering the Honkai, by understanding it, can I survive. Because—"
He removed his glasses and tucked them into his pocket. A strange light sparked in his eyes, a brilliance like stars igniting.
He raised the spear.
"I am a Pathstrider."