Day 1
Rie's eyelids fluttered open, the dull ache pounding at his temples the first thing he noticed. A minor headache, nothing unbearable, but enough to make his senses reel. As his vision cleared, a strange new memory surfaced—Ryuma. The name felt foreign yet oddly familiar, like a mask newly worn, a new identity grafted onto his being overnight.
Before he could gather his thoughts, a glowing screen materialized in front of him, shimmering with the unmistakable layout of a stats interface—like something out of a game. His eyes darted over the numbers and attributes: strength, agility, stamina—all quantified with crisp precision.
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Title:The destined one
Name: Ryuma Sousuke
Age: Currently 12
Stats
Endurance: C
Agility: C
Strength: C
Curse energy: A
Mutation: ???
Potencial: Ex
Condition: Captive, Healthy
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But what truly shocked him was the status line: "Condition: Captive."
His gaze shifted beyond the screen. Around him, in the dim light of the cold, stone chamber, he noticed other figures—ten to twelve more prisoners, each bound by their own chains and silence. The air was thick with a shared despair, yet beneath it flickered a faint spark of resistance.
Rie's breath caught. He was no longer just himself—he was Ryuma now, trapped in this grim reality, and whatever this place was, it was only the beginning.
As Ryuma's heartbeat steadied, more fragments of memory flooded his mind, clearer now with each passing second. This world—his new reality—was unlike anything he had known before. It was a place where the extraordinary was ordinary.
Mutants and quirks existed, not as myths or stories, but as tangible powers wielded by many. Magic wasn't just legend; it flowed through the air and could be harnessed by those skilled enough. Dungeons—dark, labyrinthine fortresses filled with monsters—were scattered across the land, each one a deadly trial for the brave or desperate.
Villains lurked in the shadows, their ambitions threatening the fragile peace. Heroes stood tall, shining beacons of hope, sworn to protect the society. Hunters roamed between worlds, tracking monsters and threats that ordinary people could never face.
All these factions, these forces of light and darkness, clashed and intertwined in an ongoing war for survival and dominance. And Ryuma—he was here, caught in the middle of it all, his new identity a key piece in a game far bigger than he understood.
His eyes scanned the prisoners again. Were any of them allies? Enemies? Or simply pawns like him?
The cold chains around his wrists seemed heavier now, but so did his resolve. He had to understand this world and his place in it. If he was to survive—and maybe even defies his fate—he needed to awaken the power within, embrace the truth of Ryuma, and prepare for the battles ahead quickly.
First person
For now there is nothing much to do. So I tapped into my mutant power without knowing what would happen.
The moment it sparked, a brutal shock slammed through the collar around my neck and the handcuffs binding me. Pain exploded through my body, sharp and relentless.
But in that brief second, something beyond comprehension opened before my eyes. I saw hundreds of futures, possibilities, timelines—all at once. My ability was the [Sight of the Transcended]. My eyes flared with an ominous purple glow, casting an eerie light in the dark room as I stood there, overwhelmed.
I felt the limit of my ability nearing, and before I could push any further, the collar punished me mercilessly. Electricity surged everywhere—searing, burning my neck. I screamed, agony as it almost tore through me.
"For the future."
Even through the pain, I muttered a promise for the future. Then everything went black as I passed out.
Few hours later
Around me, quiet whispers floated through the dim, cold chamber.
The others—captives like me—spoke in low tones, their words carrying a weight heavier than the chains that bound us.
"That kid... Ryuma," One murmured, voice thick with doubt and something like pity. "I don't think he's going to make it."
Another chimed in, grim. "Yeah, after that last shock, he looked like he was barely holding on. Maybe he's already lost his mind."
I caught the edge of fear and resignation in their voices. They were older, hardened by whatever hell this place had forced upon them. "He's the youngest here," someone said quietly. "None of us started out broken. But this place... it changes you."
A third voice, rough and low, added, "His injuries say he's dead already—in here, even if you're breathing, your mind can die first."
The final one spoke with a shiver in his tone. "I saw his eyes glow—and a smile. Wait, he's moving!!"
First person,
I woke up slowly, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me like a stone. Pain radiated from my neck and arms—the burning marks from the electrocution still raw and stinging. Every movement sent sharp reminders through my body.
"Mother fucker!!!" I tried to shift, but the injuries made me curse out loud, frustration and pain spilling from my lips.
'The ability to see hundreds of years ahead with different realities, not only see but remember and learn from it.' Then, despite everything, a bitter laugh escaped me. This was my new beginning—painful, harsh, and unforgiving.
I stayed still, ignoring the murmurs and glances from the others around me. My first priority was clear: I had to heal. Drawing on what I had glimpsed through the Sight of the Transcended, I focused inward, calling the Reverse cursed technique which uses the principle of multiplying a negative by another negative to produce a positive.
I had seen countless futures.
A/n: Lore dump
Reverse cursed technique converts cursed energy into positive energy to regenerate flesh and heal injuries.
The brain directs reverse cursed technique.
Positive energy can reproduce blood, bone, flesh, and organs, allowing proficient sorcerers to recover entire limbs and withstand powerful attacks.
Reverse cursed technique can even heal the soul, but this requires the unique ability to perceive the shape of the soul.
Reverse cursed technique is extremely complex and difficult for most jujutsu sorcerers to perform.
It was unfamiliar, but it was my only chance to mend the wounds burning into my flesh.
Slowly, the warmth of that energy began to spread, dulling the pain and knitting the wounds bit by bit. I couldn't afford to fall apart now—not with so much still unknown, and so much yet to fight for.