Hours passed as Kazuki devoured the contents of the book Reina had left. It was clearly meant for educated children—simple in language but comprehensive in scope. From it, he pieced together a picture of Azuria: a kingdom divided into four provinces, each governed by a duke who answered to the sovereign, King Aldric III. Magic and medicine existed in tandem, sometimes complementary, often competitive. The royal capital, Crystallis, was named for the massive crystal deposits beneath the castle that supposedly enhanced magical capabilities.
Most concerning was the brief mention of "corruption events"—outbreaks of magical disease that had plagued the kingdom in recent months. The book, clearly published before these events, mentioned nothing about the Masked Ones.
A guard brought water and a meager meal of bread and thin soup. Kazuki ate mechanically, his mind working through possible scenarios. If he truly had been brought to this world for a purpose, what was it? And why couldn't he remember crucial details of his own life?
He remembered his medical training with precision—could recite pharmaceutical formulations, diagnostic criteria, surgical procedures. But when he tried to recall his parents' faces, his home address, the names of friends or colleagues, he encountered only fog and shadow.
As the light from the high window began to fade, signaling the approach of sunset, Kazuki closed his eyes, pushing against the barriers in his mind. There had to be something, some clue...
A fragment emerged—standing in a university laboratory, pipette in hand, studying a culture beneath a microscope. On the slide was a sample labeled "Project Bifrost - Trial 37." Behind him, a voice he couldn't quite identify was saying, "If this works, Mizushima, you'll change everything we understand about consciousness transfer."
The memory slipped away before he could grasp it firmly, leaving only the image of that labeled slide and an inexplicable sense of dread.
The sound of the door opening jarred him from his concentration. Reina entered, this time alone, her face grave.