The sun burned low over the barren sands, a smoldering red eye glaring down at the ruin below. The air shimmered with heat, carrying the faint stench of blood.
Mirai stood on a cracked dune, his sword hovering beside him, its edge flickering with dark energy. Sweat and sand clung to his pale hair, but his expression was cold, empty.
At his feet, a figure sprawled in the dirt, blood pooling beneath them. A trembling hand clawed weakly at the sand, but the strength to rise was gone.
Mirai tilted his head slightly, his voice calm, almost bored. “Still clinging to life? That’s cute.”
He turned without another glance, his sword dissolving into black particles as he walked away.
“You’re not worth it,” he said over his shoulder. “But if you come after me again… don’t expect mercy.”
The wind howled, scattering the sand as he disappeared into the haze.
The sunlight shouldn’t flicker like that.
Mirai blinked, his chest heaving as he sat up. The cold sweat on his skin felt far too real, the image of cracked dunes and blood-soaked sand lingering in his mind. A dream? No, it felt sharper than that—too vivid to dismiss.
The starry ceiling lights above his room dimmed, fading into the soft glow of morning. The strange, suffocating tension lifted, replaced by the hum of his AI assistant booting up.
He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he tried to shake off the strange sensation. “Just a dream,” he muttered, though the tightness in his chest refused to ease.
The clock blinked at him from his desk: 7:00 AM. Perfectly on schedule.
Yet, for reasons he couldn’t explain, the sight of those digits made his stomach twist.
The walls were covered in game posters, and his high-end setup hummed softly in the corner, trophies gleaming on the shelf above —a quiet testament to his passion.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling him from a half remembered dream. Grabbing it, his eyes blinked against the screen’s brightness, the notification glowed in the dim light:
‘A new reality!’
His pulse quickened, but the sensation passed as quickly as it came.
He groaned, scrolling to the sender. “Takara… you’ve got to chill~” he chuckled, her flurry of messages flooding across the screen:
“OMG WAKE UP MIRAI!!! BIGGEST NEWS IN LIKE 15 YEARS!! GUESS WHO’S TRENDING!!!”
Mirai chuckled, half expecting another rumor about the next installment of the ‘F-Series’ again. Takara was always the first to pick up on rumors, but even for her it felt over the top.
Her enthusiasm was contagious. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his curiosity rising despite the skepticism. “This year’s different, huh?” His eyes lingered on the link, half-expecting another fake leak. A new reality.
His thumb hesitated, the words gnawed at him, stirring something deep and unnameable.
Click.
The title blazed across his screen in bold font:
“Next installment in the ‘F-Series’ to be announced this year: A Long Awaited Revelation?”
He skimmed the details, snippets flashing in his mind:
?Insiders suggest a revolutionary new VR experience.
?A project shrouded in secrecy for 15 years.
?Square Phoenix refusing to comment.
As he reached the final line, a chill rippled over his skin, sharp and sudden, like stepping into a draft. His room seemed to grow quieter, the soft hum of his PC fading into the background.
?Former developer claims: ‘A new reality.’
He frowned, the strange sensation lingering. The words gnawed at him, stirring something deep and unnameable.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
They echoed louder than they should have, sending a chill through him, the weight of it finally sinking in.
For a fleeting moment, the air seemed heavier, a faint sound brushed the edges of his awareness, like a distant echo of a voice—a voice just out of reach. He froze, scanning the room, but nothing moved. Silence, save for the hum of his computer.
He shook his head forcing a chuckle. “Alright, Mirai, maybe lay off the night streams" he muttered, shaking it off. Tossing his phone onto the bed, he headed for the shower.
Warm water sprayed over his snowy white hair, the steady rhythm grounding him. He let the steam blur the edge of his thoughts until they faded entirely. By the time he stepped, nanobots had already dried his skin, their hum barely noticeable.
They stayed with him as his uniform materialized in a flash of white, crisp and tailored. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he couldn’t shake Takara’s messages replaying in his mind. After years of rumors and disappointments, could it be?
“A new game, huh. Maybe this year’ll actually be different,” he thought. Glancing at his clock, he realized he still had time but not enough to take it slow.
Light blue particles shimmered to life as Mirai passed, rippling briefly before evaporating like droplets into the air.
Sunlight poured through the translucent ceiling, painting shifting golden patterns across the floor. Verdant plants lined the walls, their gentle green softening the sharp, futuristic lines of the hallway.
“Good morning, Mirai,” his AI assistant chimed, its calm voice echoing softly. “At your current pace, you’ll make it to class with approximately 2 minutes to spare.”
Mirai grinned, shifting his bag. “Two minutes? Guess I’m going for a record today.”
It responded with its usual calm tone, though Mirai could almost hear a hint of an eye-roll in its voice. “I would recommend not attempting to break any records, Mirai. We wouldn’t want any last-minute surprises.”
Mirai chuckled as he headed toward the stairs. “I’ll leave the surprises for class. Thanks for the heads-up, though.”
The AI’s image disbanded into a scatter of light particles, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
Mirai caught the faint scent of sizzling eggs and toasted bread pulling him towards.
The kitchen, warm and bright, was alive with the sound of clattering pans and a soft melody of shamisen strings and AI-generated melodies played from the countertops.
His mother, still in her floral silk robe with her hair tied up in a loose bun, stood over the stove.
“Ah, the prodigal son graces us with his presence,” she said, not looking up as she expertly flipped an omelet in the pan. “I was starting to think you were going to skip breakfast. Again.”
Mirai grinned, scratching the back of his neck. “You know me, Mom. Always keeping you guessing.”
She turned, arching a brow with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Do I need to drag you out of bed? You’ve been warned before, young man.” She waved the spatula toward the table. “Sit. Food’s almost ready. You’re not leaving without eating.”
He sighed but complied, dropping into a chair and scrolling through his messages as the scent of breakfast became impossible to ignore. Moments later, his mom placed a plate in front of him with quick, practiced movements. She lingered nearby, hands on her hips as she studied him.
“What?” he asked, mouth half-full of toast.
“I know that face,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Same one you used to have when you tried to convince me homework didn’t exist. Spill it. What’s on your mind?”
Mirai hesitated, then shrugged. “Just this game design class,” he admitted. “I mean, it’s fine, but sometimes I can’t tell if I’m actually good at it or just wasting time.”
Her expression softened, a flicker of nostalgia crossing her face. “Your dad used to get that look too whenever a big project was weighing on him,” she said, her tone quieter now. “Always second-guessing himself before a big project. You’re just like him.”
Mirai felt a pang but quickly masked it with a grin. “Guess I really am his kid, huh?”
His mom snorted. “Please, your dad actually had talent. You’re just good at running your mouth.”
“Wow, thanks for the glow of endorsement,” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically.
“Anytime,” she quipped, ruffling his hair as she passed by. “Now eat up and get moving. I don’t want another call from school about you sprinting through the gates like a maniac.”
“I’ll take the scenic route, just for you,” he replied, scarfing down the last bite of his breakfast before grabbing his bag.
Her voice softened as he reached the door. “Be careful, Mirai.”
He paused, glancing back at her with a warm smile. “Always, Mom.”
Outside, the lawn was meticulously maintained, the hedge trimmed into the shape of a radiant sun. Sleek lines of his neighborhood stretched before him, their white facades gleaming under the morning sun.
Beyond the shimmering ocean, a distant island rose, crowned with a futuristic skyline. Towering, minimalist structures pierced the horizon, their smooth surfaces gleaming like polished glass. V-tols zipped between the spires, their low hum merging with the rhythmic whispers of the coastal breeze.
He walked to a nearby post, pressed a button, and almost immediately, a sleek V-tol descended gracefully from above. Its doors slid open with a soft hiss, beckoning him inside.
“Welcome, Mirai,” The familiar AI greeted, its calm tone unwavering. “We will arrive at Helios Interactive Academy in approximately 10 minutes. Shall I increase speed for a quicker journey?”
“Nah, I'm not in a rush,” he said, settling into the plush seat. He looked out the window with a smirk, gesturing toward the glowing skyline. “Besides, why rush when you’ve got a view like this?
It paused briefly before replying. “Acknowledged. Enjoy the journey, Mirai. Helios awaits.”
As the V-tol rose into the air, Mirai watched the skyline grow closer, its towering structures gleaming like beacons in the sunlight. For a moment he let himself relax, the hum of the engine and breathtaking view easing the doubts that lingered in the back of his mind.
“A new reality.”
The phrase lingered in Mirai’s mind. His dad used to talk about games that felt more real than life, a dream he’d chased until the day he disappeared. Mirai shook the thought away. This wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be.
This time they didn’t feel like a promise. They felt like a warning.
He stared out at the shimmering skyline. Somewhere in the distance the headquarters of Square Phoenix loomed, a beacon of innovation… and the last place his father ever worked.
