Between Life and Oblivion

Darkness.

It swallowed everything.

There was no sound, no sensation—only the cold embrace of the void. Raiyan Kisaragi drifted in this emptiness, his consciousness flickering like a candle in the wind. Was this death? Was this what awaited him after everything?

"Is this really it?"

His thoughts felt distant, stretched thin. He tried to move, but he had no body, no form. Only his mind remained, floating in nothingness.

Then—

A flicker of light.

It was small at first, a crack in the abyss. But as it grew, Raiyan felt something—pain. A deep, searing agony, like his soul was being torn apart and stitched back together at the same time.

"Pain…?"

How could he feel pain if he was dead?

And then—the voices came.

"The shattered one arrives."

"His soul is incomplete, yet it clings."

"Unfit. Undone. Unworthy."

The voices spoke in unison, hollow and ancient. They whispered through the void, their words wrapping around Raiyan like unseen chains.

He wanted to scream, to demand answers—but his voice was lost.

Then—a second light.

This one was different. It shimmered like liquid silver, shifting and pulsating with an unknown energy. Unlike the first, this light felt... alive. It was watching him.

"You do not belong here."

A new voice. Deeper. Stronger. Different from the whispers.

Raiyan's thoughts blurred, but something within him stirred. He should be dead. He felt himself die.

So why was he still here?

And then—he began to fall.

The void shattered around him like glass, breaking into fragments of light and shadow. A force pulled him downward, faster and faster. Colors swirled, twisting into shapes—mountains, forests, skies that bled hues he had never seen before.

This was no longer Osaka.

This was—somewhere else.

Raiyan gasped as air flooded his lungs. Cold. Crisp. Unfamiliar.

He was lying on his back, staring at a vast, endless sky. It was unlike any sky he had ever seen—deep purple with streaks of gold, as if twilight and dawn had been frozen in time. Strange, floating landmasses drifted in the distance, defying gravity.

Pain wracked his body, but he could feel. He had a body again.

His throat was dry, raw. He lifted a shaking hand to his neck, expecting to feel the wound—the knife that had ended his life. But there was nothing. No blood. No scar. Only smooth skin.

"What… the hell?" His voice was hoarse, weak.

He pushed himself up, only to feel something unfamiliar against his skin—clothes that were not his.

Ragged. Dirty. Worn.

His uniform was gone. Instead, he was draped in the tattered remains of what looked like a slave's attire.

Then, the weight on his limbs hit him. Chains.

His wrists and ankles were bound in dull metal shackles, scratched and rusted. They weren't attached to anything, but their presence sent a chill down his spine.

This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a hallucination.

He was in another world.

The distant sound of marching footsteps made his breath catch.

Instinct screamed at him to move, but his body was weak, unsteady. He scrambled behind a jagged rock formation just as figures appeared over the hilltop.

Men. Soldiers.

They were clad in dark, worn armor, their weapons stained with old blood. Their faces were harsh, eyes scanning the area with a predator's gaze.

"Did another one appear?" one of them muttered.

"Tch. These damn outcasts keep falling from the rifts." Another soldier spat. "Round him up if you find him. The lord doesn't want any 'strays' loose before the execution."

Execution?

Raiyan's breath hitched. They were looking for him.

What kind of world was this? Who were these people?

He had no time to think. Footsteps were getting closer. His mind screamed—run.

But his body refused to move.

Then, a voice echoed inside his head.

"You must survive."

"You are more than you were."

A sudden surge of energy coursed through him—brief, fleeting, but enough. His body responded, and he bolted from the rock's shadow, sprinting into the unknown.

The soldiers shouted behind him.

"There! The stray is running!"

"Catch him before he reaches the ruins!"

Ruins?

There was no time to think. The ground beneath his bare feet was rough, cutting into his skin, but he pushed forward. He didn't know where he was going—only that he had to keep moving.

Then, as he crested a small hill, he saw it—a battlefield.

Or what remained of one.

Swords buried in the earth. Banners torn and forgotten. Armor stripped from the dead.

This land had seen war. A war long past, yet not forgotten.

And in the center of it all—

A sword.

Not just any sword. It pulsed.

It was buried in the ground, its blade cracked, its hilt wrapped in chains. But despite its broken state, it called to him. Like it was waiting.

The soldiers were close now.

Raiyan had no choice.

He lunged toward the sword, wrapping his fingers around the hilt. The moment he touched it—

The world changed.

To be continued…