The waters of the Mediterranean weren't particularly cold. It was simply that the sound of the rising and falling waves gradually faded—until it disappeared completely.
And then, in a realm that seemed eternal, a silver-haired boy slowly opened his eyes—eyes as deep and blue as the ocean itself.
Awakening from his "slumber," the world reflected in his gaze was… Bucharest, the capital of Romania, in the year 2014.
Outside the thick window of the taxi, city streets blurred past beneath a gray, overcast sky. Novia didn't particularly like that kind of color. Nor was he fond of the chatty conversation drifting in from the front seat, between the taxi driver and someone on his phone:
"Listen, you're already thirty-seven, and you still haven't found someone? Your mom and I are really worried, you know. Your sister's teacher is one of the top names in her school—pretty handsome too. He keeps getting promoted in the rankings. Why don't you go meet him?"
"Oh... right, I forgot. You dropped out just a week after enrolling…"
"Driving's just how I pass the time. Been in Romania for a while now—figured I might as well help you find someone suitable. Who knows, maybe one day I'll find you that white knight you're always dreaming of. Though to be fair, thirty-seven-year-old princes are rare—it'll probably be a middle-aged king, ha!"
Probably chatting with a kid back home. Still, you can't force these things. The tone sounded lighthearted—likely just some teasing.
Novia mused to himself. His body felt oddly drained—likely due to the world's mystery (Mystic energy) growing even thinner than it had been two thousand years ago. His soul needed time to adjust to the rules of the modern world. It was like going from luxury back to austerity.
After all, back in the Roman era, mystery hadn't been much of a concern. Ever since he found Albion, his path had only led toward increasingly dense concentrations of mystery—culminating in Yahweh tearing open the Texture to enact the Apocalypse, allowing permitted mystics to manifest.
It was thanks to that rupture that Novia had once seized the full authority of Rome. Though, in the end, the only real benefit had been meeting Yahweh before he could pass through Heaven's Gate. During the final battle, Yahweh had stripped it all from him anyway—clearly, the One God wasn't fond of other pantheons…
"…Excuse me, is there a traffic jam?"
His voice was raspy, like someone who'd just woken up. He tentatively raised his hand as he spoke. Interrupting someone's family call wasn't ideal, but Novia couldn't help being confused. He was already halfway to Rome—logically, he should've arrived by now.
Catching the motion in the rearview mirror, the older driver—his face etched with deep lines—removed his earpiece, rolled down the window a little, and glanced back at the boy whose forehead was slick with sweat.
"You're finally awake. Thought you'd come down with something—just passed out all of a sudden. I was thinking of taking you to the hospital."
"Thanks for your concern. I just fell asleep, that's all. I'm fine now."
"All right, just don't pass out again. Here, been saving this a while—take it." After a brief silence, the man tossed Novia an apple before turning his gaze back to the road. "By the way, you're a churchgoer, right? Only church people wear cross pendants like that. Or maybe it's a keepsake from an elder?"
"…Huh?"
Novia, chewing on a bite of apple, looked down at his chest in confusion. Sure enough, a cross pendant hung there, catching the light with a faint silver glow. He could say with certainty—before setting out for Rome, he definitely hadn't had this on him…
Was it a reward of some kind?
A thought flickered through his mind, and at once, the system's interface appeared before his eyes.
But there were no notifications. Even the "transmigration" option was dimmed, unlike before when returning would unlock further choices. Maybe it needed to recharge… or simply hadn't refreshed.
"Yes, I'm a believer. The director who adopted me gave this to me."
He didn't bother denying it—just threw out a half-truth to deflect.
In this world, Novia had grown up in an orphanage. He'd learned magecraft because the director who founded the place saw potential in him and decided to teach him a few things…
Thinking of this, Novia couldn't help but wonder—was the director actually a Burial Agency member who failed to secure a "name"?
"I see. My bad."
The man gave a casual glance at the silver-haired youth in the backseat. He still remembered those last few moments before Novia had passed out—unrestrained waves of magical energy had burst from him. If his eldest daughter hadn't installed cloaking spells in the car, it would've drawn every mage clan in the area thinking someone was challenging them.
Yet the boy seemed genuinely unaware. Maybe he bore some inherited magical crest? Either way, the driver found him intriguing—and he liked chatting with all sorts of people, which was why he drove in the first place.
"Oh yeah, that new movie. If you're a churchgoer, I guess you haven't seen it. But it's been getting popular with the younger crowd."
"Movie?"
Though it was clear the man was just making conversation, Novia still humored him. It wasn't a problem—he'd talked far more back in ancient Rome while preaching.
"You know, the one about the first Pope—Novia—falling in love at first sight with Emperor Nero's mother, Agrippina the Younger. All that star-crossed drama—love, betrayal—and in the end, dying at the hands of his lover's child, Nero."
"…"
Novia closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. His face, once subtly strained, seemed to relax a bit.
"…As long as someone enjoys it, I suppose. After all, it's an adaptation."
He could understand it. Myths and legends always evolve over time, constantly rewritten.
"Really? The last few believers I met were cursing it up and down…"
"I get that too. It's a perfectly normal reaction. But I think the real Novia wouldn't mind much."
The silver-haired boy shrugged indifferently. The driver chuckled. A warm, easy atmosphere settled between them.
"Didn't expect you to be so chill. Not like the usual stuck-up church types... Anyway, here we are."
After paying and stepping out of the car, Novia saw the window roll down again. The driver waved at him.
"Name's Sajō Hiroki. You seem like a decent guy. Let's swap numbers—maybe we'll hang out again sometime. Oh, right, didn't catch your name. What should I call you?"
"…Novia."