After satiating his hunger with a simple boiled egg and mayonnaise sandwich, Adam turned his focus to his injured leg.
Without access to proper medical supplies, he could only clean the wound using warm water and bandage it with strips torn from clean clothes. As he worked on dressing the injury, his thoughts began to wander—until he realized something strange.
"Shouldn't Schicksal Valkyries have been deployed by now to handle an outbreak like this?" Adam muttered to himself.
Normally, Schicksal maintained Valkyrie teams on standby in every country—at the very least, in every region—to ensure rapid responses to Honkai eruptions. Yet since this morning, Adam hadn't seen or heard any signs of battle nearby.
In fact, aside from the initial seven zombies he encountered, the surrounding area was disturbingly quiet. Not even the sound of birds or insects could be heard. No gunfire, no energy blasts, no shouts—just an unnatural stillness. It felt less like a battlefield and more like a graveyard.
Even more unsettling, Adam realized he was still in the same apartment building from his previous world.
Why is that odd? Because Honkai Impact was just a game in his previous world—meaning that world was likely a higher-dimensional or main world. But this? This was the world of Honkai Impact.
To verify his suspicion, Adam reached for his phone. Thankfully, it still had a signal. He quickly searched for "Honkai Impact 3rd."
Nothing.
He typed in other terms: "Schicksal," "Anti-Entropy," "ME Corp," "St. Freya Academy."
Still nothing. No news, no records, no corporations—not even obscure references. Which was impossible. Even Schicksal had legitimate public-facing companies for logistics and technology.
"Maybe I'm wrong… or…"
His scrolling came to a sudden stop.
[Dr. Mei publishes groundbreaking research in quantum mechanics.]
[Famed musician Miss Eden to perform live concert in Singapore…]
Adam froze.
"…The Flamechasers…? This is… the Previous Era?!"
His stomach dropped, and with it, all the confidence he had built up until now deflated like a pierced balloon.
One has to understand—the Present Era, where Kiana is the protagonist, is considered the "easy mode" of humanity's struggle. That world benefits from the oversight of Prometheus, the super AI that suppresses the Honkai's activity.
But the Previous Era… was nothing short of a hellscape. A brutal and desperate war, not to win, but merely to survive. The Honkai expanded unchecked, drowning the world in destruction. In just over a decade, humanity would teeter on the brink of extinction—culminating in the descent of Finality.
No place was safe. The only way to survive was to quickly climb the ranks of Fire Moth and gain access to classified information, advanced tech, and MANTIS augmentation—especially Project ICHOR.
But for Adam, his concern wasn't about becoming a MANTIS. According to his System, the goal was to ascend beyond the bounds of mortality—gaining the powers of Shinigami, Hollow, and Quincy to eventually become a being on the level of the Soul King.
That lofty goal was far in the future.
Right now, his most pressing concern was surviving the Honkai and its corruption—and understanding how to resist Herrschers.
So, he turned to the one thing he could trust: his System.
"Hey, System... are you sentient? Can you answer my questions?"
He waited.
...
...
...
A few minutes passed in silence before a soft ding echoed in his mind.
[Disclaimer: The System cannot provide answers outside its operational scope.]
Adam nodded slightly, satisfied that the System could at least respond.
"Okay then… what level of Reiryoku do I need to be immune to Honkai corruption?"
[Host must attain a Reiatsu level equivalent to a Gotei 13 Division Captain or unlock a power equivalent to Bankai.]
"Hm. I see." He mulled over the answer, then asked another question.
"What's the equivalent of a Herrscher in terms of power?"
[Host must discover the answer through personal experience. This question is outside the System's scope.]
"Tch. So rigid…" Adam clicked his tongue in mild frustration. He shifted focus instead to what the System could do.
In summary, the System was basic but functional.
It had four core features: Profile, Inventory, Task, and Shop.
Profile displayed and managed his stats.
Inventory was a traditional storage space with infinite capacity and time-stasis, meaning items stored wouldn't age or degrade.
Tasks were divided into three types:
Daily Tasks, which rewarded him with currency or items for killing enemies and completing survival objectives.
Random Tasks, generated based on his environment or situation.
System Tasks, which acted as the main questline, adapting to the choices he made.
Shop was, surprisingly, stacked with nearly every item from the Bleach universe—from mundane things like Healing Pills to high-tier items like Zanpakutō, Hōgyoku, and Race Trait pills.
One thing caught his eye: it was possible to own multiple Zanpakutō, though the System noted that convincing his existing Zanpakutō to share a wielder would be… difficult.
He glanced down at the Asauchi holstered at his hip.
It trembled.
"…Is it reacting?"
Adam frowned. "Wait—shouldn't an Asauchi only develop a spirit after being molded by its wielder's soul over time?"
But he had only started wielding it today.
"Unless… this Asauchi already has a Zanpakutō spirit inside?"
His confusion turned into disbelief—then into joy.
If the Asauchi had already developed a spirit, then he could skip the entire molding process, which normally required a great deal of time and Reiryoku —resources he currently lacked.
Confidence returned to his face.
First, he had to treat his wound properly. Honkai corruption aside, an untreated injury could lead to infection—and with no medical aid in sight, even a minor infection could prove deadly.
Fire Moth, for all its technological might, still lacked the means to enter Honkai eruption zones like Schicksal's Valkyries did. They usually had to wait for Honkai concentrations to subside before beginning rescue operations.
"I need a First Aid kit... and I remember seeing one in the guard post downstairs."
Adam limped toward the balcony and peered down at the security guard post below.
As he surveyed the area, he noticed something off.
The nearby buildings... the distant cityscape... everything was different from what he remembered. Only the apartment complex itself was familiar—as if he'd been transmigrated here along with the entire building.
Then something clicked.
"The dust…" he whispered, his expression darkening.
Ignoring the pain in his leg, Adam ripped apart the makeshift barricade without hesitation and rushed to the corpses of the zombies.
He frantically searched their pockets, and eventually retrieved a wallet from one of them—a former office worker.
Hands trembling, he opened it and pulled out the ID.
His heart stopped.
Shenzhou.
Not "Dragon Nation."
Not his original world.
The wallet slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud.
Adam didn't move.
He stood there, recalling the odd pile of dust he encountered in the morning.
Slowly, he stumbled back, legs unsteady, until his back met the cold steel of the balcony railing. He slid down without resistance, settling into a slump as if gravity had finally claimed him for good.
His breathing remained shallow. Not panicking. Just… strained — like the weight of something unseen was pressing on his chest.
His pupils were dilated. Unfocused.
"…The dust…"
His voice was barely audible. Not broken. Not trembling. Just… flat. Detached.
His gaze drifted, but he wasn't seeing it. His mind was caught somewhere else — in the hollow between memory and meaning.
"…They were people. Ordinary people."
A pause. His lips barely moved.
"…And I killed them."
No wail. No tears. Just the simple, empty truth hanging in the air like haze.
His transmigration had brought the entire apartment building with him. The people from his world—friends, neighbors, strangers—were normal humans, untouched by the unnatural evolution of this new world.
They didn't even have a sliver of Honkai resistance.
Mere contact was enough.
Enough to erase flesh. To turn skin and bone to powder.
The scent of blood and rot still linger in the air like a stubborn stench. And underneath it, phantom traces of cooking spices, cheap detergent, incense sticks. Familiar things. Mundane things.
The kind auntie who used to slip him a meal when he had nothing in the fridge.
The bratty little kid who insisted on calling him "bro" even though they barely knew each other.
The old couple next door who always took his laundry in when it suddenly rains while he is still at work.
Fleeting fragments.
Now dust.
A muscle in Adam's jaw tightened — the only sign that something stirred beneath the numb shell.
But it wasn't a scream.
Not a cry.
Not even a denial of what he had done.
Just silence.
And a pressure building behind his eyes — not quite tears, never quite enough.
He let his head tilt back against the railing, eyes fixed somewhere far away.
Not in grief.
Not in rage.
Just…
Exhaustion.
And something worse than guilt — the cold, clinical realization that despite it all…
He felt nothing.
It was like watching death tolls scroll across a news ticker — distant, abstract, inevitable.
A thousand dead, faceless and quiet. Now his neighbors joined them.
He had known them. Vaguely. Superficially.
But none of them had ever truly touched his heart.
Because Adam had long since sealed it shut.
He was a man shaped by suffering, sculpted by a world that taught him to survive first above all even if he had to kick down those who once offered him kindness.
Their deaths barely stirred the still waters inside him.
There was no guilt.
Only the hollow recognition that he should feel guilty.
And that, somehow, made it worse.
—————
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