Light.
Blinding, overwhelming light.
A light so pure, so pristine, that mortal eyes dared not look at it. No, they could not look at it. It was too much. Too foreign. Too... divine.
Comforting, yes. Strange, undoubtedly. Good? That word seemed far too narrow. The light felt like it could be good—or at least it pretended to be. There was a softness in its embrace, but underneath that warmth... was there not something sinister? As if the most wicked of evils could hide behind the most benevolent smile?
But what could simple humans possibly understand about the wonder... and cruelty that hid within the light?
They were, after all, only human.
"Hello, good morning, good afternoon, good evening, and good night. I am what your people call 'God.' Or as I prefer it, Mr. God. Take your pick."
A voice had spoken.
A female voice.
A male voice.
A monstrous voice.
A calm voice.
An alien voice.
A normal voice.
All of them.
All at once.
As if every tonal possibility had overlapped into one perfectly synchronized utterance.
Thirty-five students—and one teacher—opened their eyes. Each of them looked around with a different expression: confusion, fear, curiosity, awe.
All they could see was white.
Clouds. Light. Emptiness.
And then... the panic began.
"Where are we?!"
"Weren't we just in class?! Is this a dream?! A hallucination?!"
"Yo, this is wild... it looks like heaven or something. Y'know, like in movies or paintings."
"Heaven? Then we're DEAD? But how?! Why?! We were literally just sitting in a classroom, for God's sake!"
"Where the hell are we?!"
Voices shouted over each other. Panic was infectious, spreading like wildfire. Nobody could calm down. Not even the teacher.
And yet... the one who had answers—this so-called Mr. God—simply watched.
Not a flicker of concern.
Not a gesture of comfort.
Just a smile. Faint. Subtle. But if one could see the eyes that went with it, perhaps they'd find the expression of a madman. Or a sadist.
Then came his voice.
Powerful.
Beautiful.
Commanding.
"Everyone, listen! Calm down! Panicking won't solve anything."
All heads turned. The voice had come from one of them—a student. Just a fellow peer, yet... he felt different.
More composed.
More heroic.
A young man who looked like he'd walked straight out of a fantasy manga. Too perfect for a high school uniform. His beauty was nearly artificial, yet no one dared to call it fake.
"I recognize every face here. We're all from the same class. Even our homeroom teacher is with us. We're not tied up, drugged, or hallucinating. The surroundings seem neither fabricated nor real... which means, if we want answers, we'll have to ask that person over there."
They had barely noticed the being seated on the throne of light and clouds. It—he—she—it... had an ambiguous appearance, like a suit-wearing silhouette shimmering with impossible clarity.
And now they recognized him.
"Wait... that's James!"
"James is right. Let's all calm down."
"If James says so, we should follow his lead. He's never wrong."
James Ronald.
Class representative.
Student council member.
A natural-born leader.
A hero in the eyes of his classmates.
With a few confident words, he restored order. Even the adult in the room—the teacher—seemed to find solace in James's presence. And Mr. God? He looked... impressed. Barely.
James turned, knelt down, and lowered his head in a respectful bow.
"Greetings, Honorable... God? Would you mind explaining this situation to us in more detail?"
Mr. God stared for a moment.
Amused.
He spoke slowly.
"I have reincarnated you, humans, to save a world not your own. Their humanity is on the brink of extinction. They cried out for help, and I heard them. I am merely the intermediary, the one who grants gifts to those chosen to traverse realms."
The murmurs came fast and heavy.
"Reincarnated...?"
"Other world? Like... isekai?"
"Wait, he said powers?!"
Some laughed nervously. Others scoffed. Their common sense resisted the very premise. 'Powers'? 'Worlds'? It sounded like something straight from a trash-tier web novel.
And yet... they were floating on clouds, standing before a being no human should ever lay eyes on.
How could they not believe?
A few still doubted.
But the majority? They didn't care whether it made sense anymore. The only thing that mattered was survival. And survival meant listening.
James Ronald.
He spoke again. This time, his voice was ice.
"Silence. Know your place. Would you rather die here, whining like children?"
The class fell into immediate silence.
Because he was right.
Whether Mr. God was lying or not, he held all the cards.
They were powerless.
Helpless.
Trapped.
James bowed once more, gentler this time.
"Please, Mr. God. Tell us more. We're ready to listen."
Mr. God gave no indication of offense. He had seen through James, perhaps. Understood that even this 'heroic leader' was simply playing the game.
"Of course," the being said. "There are four races in this world—humans, vampires, orcs, and goblins. All four are trapped in a vast, ever-shifting prison of sorts. For years, they've battled one another, each seeking a way out. But the vampires... they have prepared a grand assault. In three months' time, their full forces will strike. Humanity, already weak, may not survive unless something changes. That something... is you."
A few gasps. A few deep breaths.
Was it ridiculous? Yes. But the sheer weight of the moment crushed all doubt.
And James? He believed. Or at least, he acted as if he did.
Before he could ask another question, someone else spoke.
"You mentioned powers. Can we know what kind of powers you'll be giving us?"
James turned.
Arthur Blood.
President of the student council.
His voice calm, respectful.
He too bowed lightly, though it held the air of calculated diplomacy.
Mr. God smiled.
"In this world, there exist crystals. When fused with a soul, they grant abilities—power, insight, talent. Each of you has already been matched with a crystal suited to your personality, your past, and the destiny you were denied in your original world. The gift will be yours to wield until the end of your mission."
And then James asked the most important question of all.
He dropped lower—kneeling so deep his forehead touched the cloud beneath him.
"Please, Divine One... when we complete our mission, may we return home?"
Mr. God tilted his head.
And answered.
"Of course. Once you have saved that world's humanity in full, I shall return you to yours. However, there is one condition: at least fifteen of you must survive. If fewer make it... you shall be bound to that world for eternity."
Silence.
No one dared speak.
A few whispered. A few swallowed back their thoughts. But none raised their voices.
Because deep down, they believed.
Mr. God's words had a weight beyond logic.
His smile widened.
"Now then, it's time. You will each be assigned your power. These abilities will remain with you until the end—of the mission... or your lives."
The light shone brighter.
Warm. Inviting.
And yet...
One boy, the most average among them, thought a single question:
Is there a monster hiding behind that perfect smile?
***
At that very moment, while some students were weeping and others stared blankly at the surreal entity before them, a certain boy stood frozen. He had black hair, messy and thick like he'd just rolled out of bed (which, to be fair, he probably had a few hours ago), and equally dark eyes that failed miserably to conceal the storm brewing behind them.
His name was Moon Red.
Wait a damn second… Mr. God? As in... actual God? Save a world? What does that even mean? That's... way too much! How am I supposed to do even one of those things?! I'm just a regular guy! A perfectly average, socially awkward, moderately good-looking—okay fine, slightly below average—type of guy!
Moon stood stiff, as if someone had just replaced his brain with wet cardboard and asked it to solve quantum physics. His mind was a broken vending machine, spitting out random thoughts like, "Does God pay taxes?" or "Should I have had that second bowl of cereal this morning?"
While Moon's existential crisis reached Level 5 Disaster, someone approached him. Quiet steps. Calm aura. Same black hair—just a bit longer and straighter. Same dark eyes—but void of panic. The expression on his face could be mistaken for boredom or perhaps a Zen master achieving nirvana while waiting for a delayed train.
It was Sun Red.
Moon's twin brother. His only family. His closest friend. The only person in both worlds he genuinely cared about—though he'd never say that aloud without dying of cringe.
Sun reached out with visible relief and touched his brother's shoulder.
"Moon," he said softly, "thank God you're alive. For a moment, I thought I'd lost you when we got transported here. I'm really glad you're okay… and still in one piece."
Moon blinked. Processing. Still buffering.
He tried to speak, but all his brain could generate was static noise and a slideshow of frogs. His mouth opened… then closed.
Meanwhile, one by one, the other students were stepping forward, each approached by the being who'd introduced himself (or itself?) as "Mr. God." With a casual touch on the forehead, they'd then walk away looking dazed, as if they'd just been hit with the entire Wikipedia database at once. Even the teacher, went through the process.
Moon still hadn't moved.
Sun leaned closer, noting the fried-circuit look on his brother's face.
"I get it," Sun said with his usual eerie calm. "Your brain's overheating. But I need you to focus. You know how much I hate situations I can't control."
Moon blinked again, as if slapped with a wet towel. Finally, the words registered. His twin. His anchor. The only stable part of this whole mess.
He turned to face Sun and, with the effort of someone giving a motivational speech while in the middle of a panic attack, mumbled something meant to sound reassuring.
"D-Don't worry, bro. If this… thing tries anything funny, I'll protect you. I mean—you'll probably protect me instead, but I'll cover your back or… something. At the very least, I'll be a good distraction. That's a promise."
He flashed an awkward smile, his attempt at a joke wobbling on the edge of nervous breakdown. Ruby, their step-sister, used to make dumb jokes in tense moments, and it always worked for her. Somehow, she could make even the most dire situations feel like a sit-com. Moon had always admired that, even if his own jokes landed like wet socks.
Sun, however, chuckled. A small, genuine laugh, rare and comforting.
"What are you even saying?" he said, eyes soft. "It's clearly a man. He literally called himself 'Mister,' remember?"
Moon frowned, dramatically shaking his head. "You're not seeing what I'm seeing. Are you blind or just naïve? Look at those hips! That waist! That walk! I've seen anime characters with less curve. No way that's a dude."
Sun raised an eyebrow, then glanced back at the divine being. He nodded slowly.
"You have a point… but come on, ever heard of feminine-looking guys? You know, femboys? Like Rimuru? Or Nagisa from Assassination Classroom?"
Moon gasped, as if Sun had committed heresy. "Rimuru's a slime! A literal genderless blob! And Nagisa—Nagisa's definitely a girl pretending to be a guy. I'm like, 80% sure of that!"
Sun crossed his arms, amused. "And the other 20%?"
"Terrified uncertainty."
There was a brief silence. The kind that comes when two idiots realize they're having a very serious conversation about the gender identity of a god while standing in a celestial realm.
Wait a minute, Moon thought, are we really debating the gender of a divine entity that's literally about to teleport us into another world on a potentially lethal mission? Are we that far gone? Are we really this broken?
He folded his arms and sighed. No. I'm not broken. I'm unconscious. This has to be a dream. A fever dream. Sun's the crazy one. Always has been.
Moon glanced at his twin again, who was still watching the being—Mr. God, Miss God, Mx. God—whatever—with calm, assessing eyes. Eyes that looked into the chaos and found stillness.
Sun finally spoke again.
"Regardless of what this… thing turns out to be, I'll always protect you, Moon. No matter what happens."
Those words were simple, but something about the way Sun said them made Moon's insides warm up like hot cocoa on a blizzard day.
Dammit, Moon thought. How does he always manage to say stuff like that without sounding lame? If I said the same thing, it'd come out like a bad shoujo manga line.
Moon tried not to let the grin slip out, but it did.
"Thanks, bro. And… uh-oh. Looks like I'm next."
Sun nodded. Moon took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Each step felt like walking toward his own funeral, but he forced his legs to move. He'd faced pop quizzes, awkward group projects, and once even presented in front of the class with a cracked voice and a spaghetti stain on his shirt.
He could face a god.
Probably.
When he reached the entity, it leaned slightly forward. Then, in a low, perfectly audible whisper, it spoke:
"So… you think I have hips like a woman?"
Moon froze.
Oh god. He heard me. I mean—He IS God. Of course he heard me! Idiot! Why do I have a mouth?!
He faked a blank expression. Poker face: Level 0.
God gave him a knowing look and gently touched his forehead.
And just like that—his world went dark.
***
"Crystal: Physical Reinforcement (Level 1)"
"Ah... quite disappointing."
The voice that echoed in the void was that of Mr. God—or perhaps, Mrs. God? Moon wasn't so sure anymore. Somehow, he was now convinced it—no, she—was a woman. An entity so vague in shape, so loosely bound by logic and rules, yet clearly exuding judgment, amusement, and something eerily close to flirtation.
Mr. God looked at him—or rather, stared in his direction. If that face had eyes, they would be rolling with disappointment. Even in her half-formed expression, her mouth—lips too plump for any divine being—curled into a clearly discernible frown.
Moon began to panic.
Did I offend a deity just now?
"Huh...? What did I do...?"
His voice cracked as he spoke, the fear settling into his bones like snow melting into frostbite. He didn't recall doing anything that could've pissed off an all-powerful cosmic being. Unless merely existing in her presence was a sin in itself.
"Oh, nothing serious," she replied, voice dripping with bemused cruelty. "In truth, your talent is nearly worthless. Despite having a soul of Rank S, your body is frail and your crystal is practically meaningless. A Level 1 Physical Reinforcement? That's barely better than a child's toy. You were seemingly destined for a life of mediocrity. A side character. Filler at best."
Moon felt the words stab deep into his chest. They lingered, tore into something more delicate than skin.
His gaze went blank, rivaling the emptiness he once saw in his brother's eyes. No spark of defiance, no anger. Just silence. Just Moon.
Am I really that useless...? Just a background character?
Why? Out of all people... why me?
He had expected to be someone special in this new world—some destined hero or chosen one with a fate that could shake heavens. But no. Nothing. No gifts. No grand prophecy. Only disappointment.
As the information about the crystals filled his mind, he realized why he was so weak. His crystal was a joke. His talent, a fraud. His very name—Moon Red—felt like the punchline to a divine joke.
And so, he laughed. A hollow, bitter chuckle that echoed strangely in the void.
"Of course... makes sense, doesn't it? I'm just Moon Red. Never had anything special. Probably never will. Maybe it's natural. Maybe I was never meant to be anything."
Mr. God, or Mrs. God, smiled. Slowly. Playfully. Dangerously.
She stepped forward. Moon instinctively tried to back away, but his body wouldn't move. She controlled this world. She was this world.
She reached for his hand. Her touch was cold yet electric, like snow laced with fire. He shivered.
Their faces were now so close their foreheads nearly touched. If she had a nose, it would've brushed against his.
He could feel her breath—or the idea of it—against his skin. His body trembled, and not just from fear.
And then she spoke.
"Hey... how about we make a deal, darling?" she purred. "Let me offer you something simple. I will lend you a part of my power. Not all, of course. That would be... dangerous. I'll inhabit your body—specifically, your arm. I'll become your new crystal."
She tilted her head, mock-innocent. Her voice dripped honey, but Moon could feel the venom under the sweetness.
"In return, I'll get to devour your soul, piece by piece. Not too fast, of course. I'll watch your journey. I'll sit inside you. I'll feel every emotion, every triumph, every fall. Isn't that romantic? We'll become one."
Moon blinked.
He didn't understand all the implications.
He wanted to ask questions. He wanted to protest.
But he didn't.
Something inside him—something starved, desperate, lonely—answered for him.
Yes.
He didn't say it aloud. He didn't need to. His soul screamed its consent.
He had always wanted to be special.
So he made the deal.
Crystal: The Celestial Arm of the Impure God (Level 10)
When Moon awoke, he wasn't alone.
He stood beside Mr. God—or what remained of her—and several others who, like him, had passed. Passed through what, he wasn't sure. The gate? Death? Rebirth?
He glanced sideways at the crowd.
How many of them had sold their souls like I did?
He didn't dare ask.
His arm burned with divine energy, intricate symbols crawling beneath his skin like ink infused with stardust. He could still feel her presence. She hadn't left. She was humming inside him. Watching. Smiling.
You look beautiful when you despair, she whispered in his head.
And Moon couldn't help but shiver again.