Rain had always been white noise to Rin Aoki—a background hum that lulled Tokyo to sleep. But tonight, it roared and screamed, rattling glass and sending rivers down neon-drenched streets. The emergency sirens weren't enough. Water burst through the subway entrance; commuters clung to seats, phones blinking with final messages.Rin was at ground level, backpack slung, phone forgotten, body pressed against an old vending machine. The flood swept in so quickly it felt unreal, as if the city was dissolving. He saw a woman stumble and tried to help, but his feet lost their purchase; the torrent seized him.Air, then water. Darkness swallowed the city's lights. All sensation blurred, and for a moment, Rin wondered if he was dreaming—or dying. A cold numbness spread, yet a strangled voice inside urged him to reach up.He remembered nothing after that desperation.Light sliced through darkness—not fluorescent, not sunlight, but something older and stranger. Rin coughed, gasping, lungs burning as sweet air flooded him. He rolled onto damp grass, feeling the sun's warmth, though the sky above was painted with two burning stars.The forest around him glowed with hints of blue and green, every leaf illuminated from within. He sat up slowly, head pounding, and checked his pockets: empty, except for a curious, pulsating flicker deep in his chest.As he staggered to his feet, trying to get his bearings, a faint song drifted through the trees. It was neither melody nor language, but a vibration in his bones—a code humming just beyond understanding."Am I dreaming?" The words sounded absurd, but there was no one to hear. He stumbled towards the song.He wandered the forest for hours, hunger gnawing. Survival instincts whispered about finding water and shelter, but Rin's curiosity outpaced his caution. In this world, everything was strange: there were no insects singing, no birds, only that constant thrum beneath the surface.He reached a clearing dominated by ancient, crumbling stones, half-swallowed by moss and glowing fungi. One stone pulsed with light. Rin approached, drawn by its rhythm, and reached out.As his fingers brushed the stone, a surge of energy raced up his arm. Visions—fragmented memories not his own—flashed before his eyes. Battles in the sky, cities rising and falling, voices calling through time. His chest throbbed with the "Thread", a core of possibility that felt both alien and his own.He fell back, breathless.Suddenly, the trees rustled. He spun, panic prickling his skin. From the shadows, a figure emerged—clad in white robes woven with silver filaments. Her eyes glowed faintly, and her voice was wary."You are not of the Order," she said in halting Japanese, a strange accent distorting the vowels. "Not a Wanderer. Not a Phageborn. Who sent you?"Rin stepped back, hands up. "I—I don't know. One moment I was drowning in Tokyo. Then… this."She studied him, gaze sharp. "Tokyo. A world lost in the Great Collapse. Yet you speak as one who survived."Something in Rin's Thread pulsed, and he felt the word "Echoed" surface in his thoughts—alien, yet familiar."I'm Rin," he managed. "I think I survived, but I don't know how. What is this place?"She considered, then relaxed minutely. "I am Elira, of the Seraphic Order. This is Ethelara—a world remade. And you, it seems, have much to learn if you wish to live."They stood in silence, each measuring the other. Above them, twin suns burned, and somewhere distant, the world itself seemed to shift.The journey had only begun.
