The bustling airport echoed with the chatter of passengers preparing for their next destination—Tsukihara, one of Japan's most renowned cities, famed for its vibrant streets and influx of tourists year-round.
"Attention all passengers. The evening flight to Tsukihara will be departing in 10 minutes. Please proceed to Gate B-17 and line up according to your assigned seats. We thank you for your patience."
The announcement rang out through the terminal in a calm, polite voice, prompting the crowd to slowly funnel toward their respective lines. Among them was a teenager, recently enrolled at Aokusa's most prestigious high school—not far from Tsukihara's bustling central district.
He was of average height, glasses perched neatly on his nose, with jet-black hair that fell just above his sable eyes. Clutching a boarding pass and slinging a worn duffel bag over his shoulder, he approached the gate mentioned in the broadcast.
"This should be the right one… Tsukihara," he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the terminal as he advanced. "I guess this is the only choice left. I just hope that man will accept me, even though—" His words faded as urgency struck, prompting him to break into a light jog toward the boarding area.
He arrived just in time, catching his breath as he looked up at the towering plane in front of him.
"This is it… My first step toward a new beginning."
After finding his assigned seat and settling in, the boy rested his duffel bag beneath his legs and leaned back into the headrest. The soft hum of conversation buzzed around him as passengers trickled in, filling the rows one by one.
A few minutes later, the clear voice of a man echoed from the front of the plane:
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Flight 482 with service to Tsukihara. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened, your seats are in the upright position, and all personal belongings are safely stored. We ask that all devices be switched to airplane mode as we prepare for takeoff. Thank you for flying with us, and we hope you enjoy the journey."
Soon enough, the engines roared to life and the plane surged forward, lifting off into the night sky. The city lights below shrank into a web of flickering gold as the clouds slowly enveloped the aircraft. The boy leaned against the window, his eyes watching the vanishing skyline. A faint breeze from the overhead vent rustled his black hair, but he paid it little mind.
He sighed, his breath fogging the edge of the glass. "Ten hours... I'm already tired."
To his quiet relief, the seat beside him remained empty—no chatty neighbors, no interruptions. He closed his eyes for a moment, only to catch sight of a girl a few rows ahead. Her long, straight hair shimmered a soft parmesan yellow under the plane's gentle lights, cascading neatly down her back. She was absorbed in her phone, her focus unbothered.
They exchanged a brief glance—just long enough to acknowledge one another—before returning to their own thoughts.
"Guess I'm not the only one around my age on this flight," he murmured, shifting his gaze back toward the window, where stars scattered across the dark canvas of the sky.
"I think I'll take a nap…" he whispered, eyes growing heavy, and soon drifted off into sleep.
While the boy drifted through peaceful slumber, his mind plunged into a surreal world unlike anything he'd known.
He found himself in a narrow chamber, dimly lit by swaying lamps that hung from chains overhead. The walls were cracked and lined with iron-barred cells, a foul stench lingering in the stale air. Despite the grim surroundings, the center of the room appeared strangely out of place—a table scattered with cards, dice, and faded chess pieces, as though a game had been long in progress.
His wrists were bound in thick, cold shackles, yet he stood upright, confused and alert. He scanned the room in silence, the stillness unnerving.
Then, without warning, a presence made itself known.
A woman in a cloak stood in the back, silent, her eyes hidden beneath a veil. Beside her, seated comfortably in a worn leather chair, was an elderly man with sharp, shining eyes and a crooked grin carved deep into his face. He leaned forward, gazing straight into the boy's soul.
"Huh…?" the boy muttered, his voice unsure as he tugged at the restraints. "A game room… and prison cells? What even is this place?"
The old man chuckled, his tone both gentle and unnerving. "You stand now within your Eidolon—a space formed not by walls, but by your very essence. This is the core of your mind, lad… the shape of your soul, wrapped in chains of forgetfulness."
The boy frowned, his confusion growing.
"This place," the man continued, his voice echoing with eerie calm, "was born the moment you chose to cast your memories away. Every empty cell, every shattered tile, every breath of this stagnant air is a reflection of what you've hidden from yourself. At present, you are labeled an inmate—shackled by your doubts, your fears, and the truths you've refused to face."
He rose slowly from his chair, folding his hands behind his back as he began to pace in front of the boy.
"Yet, this is not punishment, nor is it prison eternal. It is a test… a reflection. When you remember—truly remember—this room will change. The shackles will break. The truth you buried will surface, and from it, you may forge the self you once dreamed of becoming."
The man paused, turning to meet the boy's eyes once more.
"You came here because you desired something more… a new life. But even a new life cannot be built on a hollow foundation. The question is—will you dig deep enough to find what was lost, or will you remain here, asleep inside yourself?"
Silence fell again, and the flickering light dimmed to a soft hum, as if the room itself waited for the boy's response.
"Wha—My new life…?" the boy muttered, still dazed, trying to wrap his head around the cryptic words.
The veiled woman finally stepped forward, her voice calm and layered with quiet authority. "It is not exactly a new life," she said. "Rather, it is the life you were meant to live—the life you were born into. In essence, this is your true life. One you longed for, one your heart wished to reclaim. That wish… has already been granted."
She paused, then continued, her tone soft yet unmistakably firm. "However, understand this: this place—your Eidolon—can shift, evolve… but only under certain conditions. You may feel it's within your power to change who you are, and you would be right. Growth is possible. Transformation, attainable."
The boy remained silent, listening.
"But remember," the woman added, folding her hands, "the contract you signed wasn't without weight. There are other terms—conditions woven into its fabric. Details that need not be explained… not yet. In time, when it matters most, you will come to understand them. For now, inmate, you must walk the path laid before you. Whether you emerge changed… is up to you."
Before he could even register what was happening, he awoke with a slight headache, slowly straightening in his seat as he realized daylight had broken. Glancing at his smartphone, he was astonished by the time displayed.
"I've slept for ten hours...? How... I'm already over Tsukihara?"
He murmured in disbelief before scanning the cabin. Everything appeared unchanged—same people, same seats, just as it had been when he last remembered.
To be continued...