The Calm Before the Storm

Six days later. March 11, Sunday, 4:57 PM.

I stood on the rooftop of the Main Base of the Project, nestled in the secluded foothills of Mt. Chorogatake, here in Kyoto.

The air was crisp, filled with the quiet serenity of the natural world around me, but there was an undeniable heaviness—a weight pressing down from the events of the past week.

This place felt like a hidden fortress, its location deliberately chosen for its remoteness and its proximity to the ancient landscape that could easily conceal it from prying eyes.

The towering peak of Mt. Chorogatake stood in the distance, an imposing guardian over the classified facility below. The sun dipped low behind the mountain, casting long shadows across the dense forest that sprawled outward from the base. The surrounding trees, a deep and vibrant green, rustled in the cool breeze. They seemed to whisper secrets only the wind could carry, creating a stark contrast to the sterile, militarized environment behind me.

The base itself was a labyrinth of steel and concrete, patrolled by elite guards and lined with cutting-edge security systems. No one could get in—no curious reporters, no passersby. Only those involved in the project were granted access to this secluded citadel.

I took a deep breath, leaning against the cold metal railing and staring out over the landscape. The distant glimmer of lakes caught the last rays of sunlight, turning them into mirrors that reflected the majesty of the mountains. Beyond the lakes, I could just make out the urban sprawl of Kyoto, its distant hum faintly reaching my ears as the world below continued in blissful ignorance of what was happening here.

The people in the city had no idea of this facility's existence. All they knew was that the "GRIM REAPER" project had officially begun, and that the world's finest—ten chosen elites—had been summoned to this place to face the digital nightmare that had already claimed so many lives.

The sight was beautiful, tranquil even, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside me. The past six days had felt like a lifetime, each hour dragging on with the weight of impossible choices and inevitable violence.

As I stood there, lost in thought, a soft, melodic voice called out my name. "Rei..."

I turned, my gaze landing on a girl standing a few feet away. Soo-jin Park, one of the ten chosen for this mission, had approached quietly. She's from South Korea.

Her long black hair cascaded down her back in a sleek ponytail, framing her delicate features. Her brown eyes sparkled with intelligence and curiosity, and her pointed nose complemented her pretty lips perfectly.

She had a slim, athletic build, her mid-sized breasts accentuated by the stylish dark green satin blouse she wore, paired with tailored black trousers and mid-heel sandals.

A silver necklace adorned her neck, and a black watch sat on her wrist, completing her fashionable look. I, in contrast, was dressed in a blue kimono—the same one I wore for my Kenjutsu training.

Soo-jin was breathtaking. There was an effortless elegance about her, a kind of beauty that drew attention without demanding it.

I watched her for a moment, unsure of what she wanted, before finally breaking the silence. "What is it?"

She hesitated, her eyes flickering between me and the scenery behind me. "I wanted to talk to you... to get to know you better."

I blinked, confused by her sudden admission. "Get to know me better? Why would you...?" My voice trailed off as I studied her face, searching for some explanation.

Soo-jin didn't respond, her gaze steady but silent.

I sighed, straightening up from the railing. "We just met three days ago—the same day I got here. And now you want to get to know me?" I shook my head, my voice growing firmer. "We're not here for that. Our only mission is to stop Nakamura and end this nightmare. Anything else is just a distraction."

Her expression faltered, surprise flashing in her eyes at my bluntness. She opened her mouth to say something but then closed it, glancing away, her posture softening. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to..." She trailed off, clearly unsure of how to finish the sentence.

I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

After a brief pause, she straightened herself and spoke again, this time more composed. "We're being called for a meeting downstairs. It's already time."

I gave a curt nod, and without another word, we headed down the stairs together, descending into the heart of the facility. The silence between us felt heavy, but I didn't care. I couldn't afford distractions, not now.

The meeting hall, when we arrived, was immense. It had the imposing feel of a courtroom—large, spacious, with a massive screen at the center of the room, where critical information would be displayed. The tables were arranged in a square, and a sense of tension hung in the air, like the calm before a storm.

Around the room, people affiliated with the project sat at their laptops, typing furiously, some whispering in hushed tones. But my attention was drawn to the other chosen elites. There they were—eight people, each from a different corner of the globe: China, Thailand, America, India, Malaysia, England, the Philippines, and Canada.

I had yet to meet any of them. They had only arrived yesterday, while Soo-jin and I had been here for three days already.

Their presence added to the tension in the room. Each of them carried themselves differently, their body language speaking of experience, of battle-tested resolve, or perhaps hidden fears. They were strangers, yet bound by a single, shared purpose.

Tomorrow, our training would begin—preparation for the journey that would lead us into the heart of Eternal Nexus. A journey with no guarantees of return.

I took a seat on the right side of the large square table, with Soo-jin sitting beside me. Everyone else followed suit, settling into their chairs, while whispers gradually died down.

At the far end of the room, seated slightly apart from the square, was the man who would lead this project—Haruki Saito, the president of the GRIM REAPER initiative. He was a commanding presence even at 71 years old.

His white hair and muscular frame exuded a strength that belied his age. Blue eyes sharp and calculating, his black suit made him look more like a general than a bureaucrat. He had the air of someone who had seen countless battles, both on the field and off. He was the type of man you couldn't help but listen to.

President Saito rose to his feet, his gaze sweeping over us with the authority of a man used to commanding attention. "We're all here now. Let's begin."

As he spoke, the door at the far end of the room opened, and Dr. Asano entered. He looked just as tired as he had the day I first met him in my parents' home—dark circles under his eyes, his lab coat slightly wrinkled, but there was an undeniable energy behind his fatigue, a drive that kept him moving forward.

Dr. Asano approached the center of the room with the precise, deliberate steps of someone accustomed to addressing large, critical audiences. The air in the meeting hall shifted, a palpable tension rising as the murmurs among the seated elite participants and military personnel ceased. The sound of his shoes against the polished floor echoed in the vast space.

At the front of the room, Haruki Saito, the project leader, stood and raised a hand, commanding everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen," his voice was firm, authoritative, as he spoke into the microphone. "Before we proceed, I want to remind you all of the stakes. This mission is not just a matter of national security—it's global. The eyes of the world may not be on us directly, but their fate rests on what happens in this room and in the field. We are about to undertake an operation unlike any other. This is not a drill."

The room fell into complete silence.

Saito gave a nod to Dr. Asano, signaling him to take the floor. Asano stepped forward, his face stern and marked by years of stress and burden. He positioned himself at the square table, glancing around at each of us—Rei, Soo-jin, and the rest of the chosen elites—before speaking.

"Let me begin by saying that what we are about to face is unlike any threat mankind has seen before. This mission, the GRIM REAPER project, is humanity's last and only hope to end the nightmare Kaito Nakamura unleashed five years ago," Dr. Asano's voice was calm but carried the weight of gravity. "Many of you are aware of the general details, but I will make it clear now: this will not be simple. Nakamura never intended Eternal Nexus to be just a game. It was a test—a battlefield—designed to push the very limits of human potential. What you are about to engage with goes far beyond virtual reality. This is the next stage of war, the fusion of the digital and physical, where death is as real as the air you breathe."

Asano's eyes lingered on each of us, making sure the message landed, his voice tightening. "We are not just dealing with a rogue program or a malfunction. This is a deliberate, calculated weapon aimed at humanity, and Nakamura—believing in his twisted vision of evolution—created it to see who would survive. It is our job to stop him, and make no mistake, the risks are monumental."

He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in.

"Kaito Nakamura believed in the Singularity—the moment when artificial intelligence surpasses human intelligence. He envisioned a world where the line between the digital and physical worlds would collapse. Eternal Nexus was his gateway to that vision, a test to push humanity to its limits. Only the strongest would survive. The weak would perish. Nakamura wanted to force mankind to confront its own mortality... and transcend it."

The room was silent, the weight of his words pressing down on us like a heavy shroud.

"But it doesn't end there," Dr. Asano continued. "Nakamura saw Eternal Nexus as the future of human evolution—a place where consciousness could transcend the physical body and exist eternally within the digital world. It was his vision for the next step in human evolution, a world where human potential had no limits. But to achieve that, he needed to weed out the weak, to test the very fabric of humanity. What he created was not a game, but a crucible, a death trap where survival meant more than just continuing to live—it meant evolving."

Dr. Asano's voice grew more intense. "Five years ago, Nakamura sealed thousands of people into his creation, and they remain trapped to this day. Now, it's up to us to end what he started. The GRIM REAPER project is not just about stopping Nakamura's legacy—it's about saving the people who are still inside that world. And perhaps, if we succeed, we can ensure that such a catastrophe never happens again."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room, letting the weight of the mission settle in. "You may be wondering why you were chosen—why ten individuals from ten different countries were brought together for this mission." His voice steadied, but the gravity of his words remained.

"The reason is simple: each of you represents not only the pinnacle of human talent but also a key connection to the very creation of Eternal Nexus and the VIZion system itself. Some of you were directly involved in the development of this technology, while others possess expertise critical to our success. Whether it's military strategy, combat expertise, a deep understanding of virtual systems, or even firsthand knowledge of the game's creation, you bring something unique that makes you irreplaceable."

Dr. Asano's eyes passed over each of us, emphasizing the weight of his words. "Your knowledge, skills, and backgrounds will be essential for navigating the complexities of Nakamura's world. This mission requires more than just strength and intellect—it demands insight into the very foundation of what we're up against."

He let his words sink in before continuing, his voice hardening. "This is not just a matter of entering the game and fighting our way through it. Nakamura's world is as treacherous as it is vast. You will face challenges that test not only your physical abilities but your mental fortitude, your capacity to adapt, and your determination to survive. There are no second chances here. Once you're inside, the stakes are life and death—both for you and for the thousands who remain imprisoned."

Dr. Asano paused, letting his words sink in, the weight of the mission settling heavily on our shoulders. "You were chosen because we believe you can succeed where others would fail. But understand this: failure is not an option. Nakamura will stop at nothing to protect what he's created. You must be ready for anything, because once you're in, there's no turning back."

He stepped back slightly, his gaze sweeping across the room one last time. "This mission is not about glory or recognition. It's about survival. It's about redemption. And it's about ensuring that Nakamura's twisted vision of humanity's future dies with him."

With those final, heavy words, the room fell into a charged silence, the gravity of what lay ahead pressing down on each of us. The faint hum of the base was the only sound, a reminder of the world outside, completely oblivious to the storm that was about to break.