ARC 1 : The Parallax

Heart pounding.

Teeth grinding.

A sense of fulfillment? Maybe.

Ren returned home, pushing the door open as his fingers traced the wall, searching for the switch.

Click.

A warm glow bathed the room, flickering slightly as the bulb buzzed overhead. He bent down to take off his shoes, then switched off the lights and headed upstairs. The bed welcomed him as he flopped onto it, arms spread wide, eyes fixed on the ceiling. A grin tugged at his lips.

Finally. A clue.

Tomorrow, I'll check the local library.

His mind raced with possibilities. Could this be like a game? A reverse isekai?

His gaze shifted to the window, where the moonlight bled into the room, casting silver streaks across the floor. He sat up abruptly.

Wait—!

In his haste, he tumbled off the bed.

Thud!

Grumbling, he pushed himself up, rubbing his elbow. His room wasn't particularly big, but it was just enough. A wooden desk stood in the corner, cabinets beneath it. Two doors—one leading downstairs, the other to the bathroom. The window, opposite his bed, framed the night sky.

Steadying himself, he walked over to the desk and knelt down. His hands rummaged through the cabinet until they found it—a familiar book with a striking font and a 2D character on the cover.

Yes, this is the one.

The title read: "Oh, The Great Hero Has Been Granted the Power for World Domination!" Written by Ryan Roslyn.

He smirked. Who knew it took a foreigner to write the best novel about this stuff? God bless that man.

(Without realizing it, he clutched the book against his chest, like a teenage girl hugging a signed copy from her favorite author. The thought hit him, and he quickly coughed, shaking it off.)

Back to my problem.

This novel was about a protagonist who could see people as monsters, their true intentions revealed through the colors they emitted. Using his wits, he manipulated his way to the top of the government.

But… this is just fantasy, right?

He paced, hands supporting his chin as he mulled over the connections.

That would explain the monsters. I mean, I'd never seen one in my life—until a few days ago.

Either way, it doesn't matter now. I know three things:

Someone else knows about this.

These dreams only last three minutes.

If there's a cause, there must be a way to stop it. That stranger might have the answers.

He grabbed a notebook and pen from the table, then sat on the bed, twirling the pen between his fingers. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the tip to the page.

First things first… I need to do some research.

The library.

With a nod of determination, he scribbled down his plan, shut the notebook, and clutched it to his chest as he lay back down. Sleep claimed him.

The moon faded as dawn stretched across the town, its golden glow seeping through the curtains.

Ren sat up, rubbing his eyes. He moved on autopilot—shower, black hoodie, downstairs. His breakfast consisted of leftover bread his mom had brought home. He chewed absentmindedly, his gaze landing on the stack of notes she'd left on the table.

He paused.

That's right... I haven't really seen her since.

Scoffing, he shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket and headed out the door.

Oak Ville

Oak Ville wasn't a special town—just another settlement that rose from the ashes of war. Despite its history, it had one defining trait: its unwavering devotion to Christianity. At its heart stood the tallest cathedral in the world, its twin spires piercing the sky at an astonishing 157 meters. Every morning, the bells of the Catholic church rang out, their echoes weaving through the quiet streets like a sacred hymn.

Despite being the town's center, the area wasn't the bustling hub one might expect. Instead, it was eerily rural, a place where the most influential people resided. Yet, rather than boasting modern advancements, the buildings were ancient—wooden structures worn by time.

A twenty-minute bus ride separated this place from where Ren lived. The center of Oak Ville resembled a ghost town. Few people lived there, apart from the elderly and those who owned property. The streets stretched empty, save for the occasional figure wandering between the decaying houses.

The Cathedral

The cathedral itself was a marvel, an architectural masterpiece:

Twin spires soaring 157 meters into the air, making it the tallest church in the world.

An intricately designed façade, adorned with stone carvings, statues, and detailed ornaments.

Flying buttresses, reinforcing the cathedral's towering walls.

A grand rose window, glowing above the entrance, its colors shifting with the sun.

Inside, the grandeur continued:

A vast nave, its vaulted ceiling stretching high above.

Stained-glass windows, casting spectral hues across the stone floors.

Intricately carved pillars and arches, standing like sentinels of time.

A shrine, said to house relics of the Three Wise Men.

A choir stall and high altar, each crafted with stunning detail.

It was a sanctuary of devotion, but it held secrets buried beneath its beauty.

Across from the cathedral stood the town's library—a stark contrast to the well-maintained church.

The Library

Ren arrived at the library to find it draped in an eerie stillness. The structure, though cared for, showed signs of age, its walls cracked with time. Unlike the church, this place had no grandeur—only the lingering scent of old paper and dust.

Ting!

A small bell chimed as he pushed open the door.

Behind the desk sat an elderly woman. Deep wrinkles lined her face, and her thinning gray hair framed her sharp eyes. The library had seen better days—cobwebs clung to the bookshelves, their thick strands nearly merging with the faded spines of forgotten texts.

The woman straightened at the sight of him.

"I'm surprised to see anyone coming to this old place at this hour." Her voice carried a mix of curiosity and caution.

Ren approached the desk. "I just came to check some old documentaries."

Her eyes glinted with interest. "Old documentaries? How old are we talking?" She began shuffling through a stack of files beneath the counter.

"Anything about monsters or strange creatures. Anything… abnormal." His voice was calm, but his glowing eyes betrayed his urgency.

Her hands suddenly stopped. The warmth in her expression faded into something cold, almost hostile.

"There are no such documentaries," she said flatly.

Ren frowned. "That can't be right. Please, could you check again?" He leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk.

"I think it's best if you leave." Her tone was firm, emotionless.

Ren studied her, realizing something was off. But pressing her further wouldn't help. He exhaled sharply, then stepped back and gave a slight bow.

"Understood. Sorry for the trouble."

As he turned, the bell chimed again. Ting!

Outside, the sky had darkened. The scent of damp soil filled the air, and the distant murmur of rain whispered through the streets. Deciding to wait out the storm, Ren made his way toward the cathedral.

The Church Encounter

He stepped inside, the warmth of candlelight flickering against the stone walls. The vast hall was empty, save for the soft echoes of his footsteps. He walked to the altar, lowering his head into a silent prayer.

"Hey there, you feeling okay?"

A voice broke through the stillness.

Ren turned to see a young man in a white cloak emerging from a side door near the altar. He had dark brown hair, deep-set eyes, and an ever-present smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." Ren gave a small, forced smile, staring at the altar.

The young man sat beside him, his posture relaxed. "I'm not so sure about that. Someone who's fine usually doesn't look that troubled."

Ren sighed. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

"Try me."

He hesitated before speaking. "I've been having these dreams…"

And just like that, he unraveled everything. Every strange event. Every vision. Every creeping horror that had followed him since it all began.

Alger—his name, as he later introduced—listened in silence. When Ren finally finished, he waited for the inevitable skepticism.

Instead, Alger simply blinked, eyebrows raised.

"Wow," he muttered. "That's… a lot."

Ren scoffed, shaking his head. "See? Told you it was crazy." He stood, ready to leave.

"Wait." Alger shot up, grabbing his wrist. "I believe you."

Ren froze. "What?"

"In fact…" Alger quickly ran back through the door he had come from. Moments later, he returned with a tattered brown book, its edges worn from time. Bold letters marked the cover:

"Part 3 of My Life by Mary Godwin."

He handed it to Ren.

"This book—it's Mary Godwin's personal account. She wrote about something called 'Parallax.' She claimed it was the origin of all monsters, that every mythological creature came from this place."

Ren flipped through the pages. His eyes narrowed at an odd detail—some chapter titles were printed in bold while others were faded.

CHAPTER 1: THE BEGINNING

CHAPTER 2: MY FIRST ENCOUNTER

CHAPTER 3: THE PAST

CHAPTER 4: WHAT NEXT

CHAPTER 5: A NEW TRUTH

"Some titles are bold while others aren't," Ren muttered.

"Probably just a printing issue," Alger said with a shrug.

Ren's eyes darkened in thought. "Or… it's a clue."

Alger raised an eyebrow. "A clue?"

"Think about it. If the printing company ran out of ink, why are chapters four and five bold again? It doesn't make sense. What if Mary Godwin left a hidden message?"

Alger frowned. "I've read this book a hundred times, and I've never found anything."

Ren smirked. "Then maybe you weren't looking hard enough."

He flipped through the fragile pages, his mind racing.

"This could be the key to finding the truth about Parallax," he thought. "Mary Godwin… just who are you?"

Back at the Library

In the dim glow of candlelight, the librarian's hands trembled as she shuffled through old papers.

Her lips parted in a whisper. "No one must ever know…"

The flames of a matchstick flickered in her fingers. She held it to the documents—letters, notes, secrets long buried.

The fire caught.

The papers curled into embers, turning to ash in the darkness.