The transition was not a tunnel of light. It was an amputation.
Aiden Cross gasped, his lungs seizing as they tried to pull in air that felt too thick, too rich. It tasted of ozone and wet earth, sharp enough to burn his throat. He was on his hands and knees, fingers digging into cold, muddy soil. The sensation of his previous life—the memories of cars, concrete, and the hum of electricity—felt like a dream that had been violently excised from his mind.
Pain throbbed behind his eyes, a rhythmic hammering that synchronized with the new, frantic beating of his heart.
"Lyra."
The name was the first thing to solidify in the chaos of his mind. It wasn't a question; it was an anchor.
He forced his head up. Rain was falling—hard, stinging sheets of gray that obscured the horizon. He wasn't in a city anymore. He was in a forest, surrounded by trees that twisted upward with unnatural vitality, their bark dark and slick like wet iron.
"Lyra!" he croaked, his voice cracking.
A few meters away, a lump of pale fabric lay amidst the ferns. Aiden scrambled toward her, ignoring the scream of his stiff muscles. He skidded in the mud next to her, gripping her shoulders.
"Lyra. Look at me."
Lyra Vale opened her eyes. They were unfocused, the pupils dilated to the point where the irises were barely visible thin rings of violet. She wasn't seeing the forest; she was seeing something beyond it.
"The sky..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "It's... crying glass."
"It's just rain," Aiden said, his tone sharp, desperate to cut through her delirium. He grabbed her hands; they were ice cold. "Lyra, ground yourself. Feel my hands. I'm here. We're here."
She blinked, a slow, sluggish motion. The violet ring in her eyes stabilized, the fog of the Reverie receding just enough for her to focus on his face. She squeezed his hand back, her grip surprisingly strong.
"Aiden," she breathed out, the panic in her expression melting into relief, though her skin remained pale. "We... we aren't dead?"
"No," Aiden said, helping her sit up against the trunk of a massive tree. "But we aren't home."
As if responding to his statement, a sensation crawled up the base of his skull—cold, invasive, and undeniable. It wasn't a voice in his ear; it was a memory being forcibly written into his brain. Information bloomed in his mind, alien yet familiar, as if he had always known it.
[OMNIFRACT SYSTEM ONLINE]
[Target World: Danmachi]
[Atmospheric Mana Density: High]
[Physics Protocol: Magic/Physical Hybrid]
[Devil Authority: RESTRICTED]
Aiden gritted his teeth, clutching his head. Beside him, Lyra winced, pressing her palms against her temples.
"You hear it too?" Aiden asked.
"It's not hearing," Lyra murmured, closing her eyes tight. "It's... remembering things I never learned. System. Status. Conversion."
"Yeah." Aiden focused on the intruding thoughts.
[CRITICAL ALERT: Soul Stability Low.]
[Reason: Foreign Soul Origin incompatible with Local Atmospheric Mana.]
[Solution: Acquire Divine Protection (Falna) within 72 Hours.]
[Consequence of Failure: Soul Dissolution.]
"Seventy-two hours," Aiden muttered, the strategic part of his brain forcing the pain into the background. He looked at Lyra. "The System says we need a Falna. A blessing from a God. If we don't get one in three days, we dissolve."
Lyra took a deep breath, pushing herself up to a standing position. She swayed, but Aiden caught her arm. "Gods... Falna... This is the world of the Dungeon," she said, processing the lore the System had just unlocked in their memories. "Orario."
Aiden looked past the tree line. Through the driving rain, a silhouette dominated the horizon. It was a tower, colossal and white, piercing the clouds like a spear thrown by a giant. It defied physics, its base wider than a mountain, tapering up into the heavens.
The Tower of Babel.
"We have a destination," Aiden said, his voice hardening. "Can you walk?"
Lyra adjusted her sodden clothes—simple modern streetwear that looked absurdly out of place in this primal forest. She checked her pockets; empty. "I can walk. But Aiden... I feel... heavy. The Reverie Devil—it's quiet. Too quiet."
"The System suppressed them," Aiden explained, testing the sensation in his own right arm. He expected the familiar, terrifying hum of the Severance Devil—the phantom vibration of a chainsaw waiting to roar. Instead, he felt a dull, leaden weight deep in his bones. The power was there, but it was locked behind a heavy door. "We're weak, Lyra. Weaker than we've ever been."
"Then we move quietly," she replied, wiping rain from her face. A spark of her usual playfulness returned, though it was brittle. "I'd rather not be eaten by a goblin before I even get a stat sheet."
They began to trek through the undergrowth, moving toward the white tower. The mud sucked at their sneakers, making every step a labor. The forest was silent, save for the rain—a heavy, oppressive silence that felt predatory.
Aiden took point, his eyes scanning the brush. He felt naked without a weapon. In his old life—or whatever false memory the System had implanted of his 'origin'—he was used to having power. He was used to the ability to sever obstacles. Now, he was just a man in a wet hoodie.
Snap.
The sound was sharp, cutting through the drumming rain.
Aiden froze, holding a hand up. Lyra stopped instantly, crouching low behind a fern.
From the shadows of a large root system, three figures emerged. They were humanoid, but barely. Short, hunched, with skin the color of bruised eggplant and eyes that glowed with a feral yellow light. They carried crude clubs made of bone and wood.
Kobolds.
Aiden's heart hammered against his ribs. The System flashed a new cognitive imprint.
[Threat Assessment: Kobold (E-Rank Monster)] [Recommended Action: Evade.]
"Three of them," Aiden whispered. "They've seen us."
The lead Kobold let out a wet snarl, sniffing the air. It smelled the foreign nature of their souls—prey that didn't belong. It shrieked, a high-pitched sound that signaled a charge.
"Run?" Lyra asked, her voice tight.
"Mud is too deep. They're faster," Aiden calculated instantly. "We have to fight."
He scanned the ground. A heavy branch, broken off by the storm, lay near his foot. It was rotten, soggy. Useless as a bludgeon.
Unless...
Aiden grabbed the branch. He focused inward, reaching for the locked door in his soul where the Severance Devil screamed in frustration. He couldn't manifest a chainsaw. He couldn't cut reality. But the concept of Severance was more than just blades; it was the concept of separation.
Separate the rot from the wood. Separate the weakness from the structure.
[System Warning: High Mental Strain. Unauthorized use of Concept.]
Aiden ignored the migraine that spiked behind his eyes. He gripped the branch, and for a microsecond, his hand vibrated with an invisible, high-frequency resonance.
Sharpen.
The rotten bark sloughed off as if cut by a laser, leaving a jagged, dense core of heartwood. It wasn't a sword, but it was a stake.
"Lyra, behind me!" Aiden shouted.
The first Kobold leaped, its club raised. Aiden didn't try to block; he didn't have the strength. He stepped into the swing, sacrificing his left shoulder to the blow.
Pain exploded in his deltoid, but the Kobold was off-balance. Aiden drove the sharpened stake upward, aiming for the soft tissue under the jaw.
The wood punched through. The Kobold gurgled, thrashing.
"Aiden!" Lyra screamed.
The second Kobold had circled him. It lunged for his legs.
Lyra didn't have a weapon. She stood with her back to the tree, her eyes wide. But she didn't freeze. She reached out, her fingers splayed. The Reverie Devil was the fear of losing reality—of the dream overtaking the waking world.
Get lost, she thought, projecting the intent with everything she had.
A faint, violet haze shimmered around her hand. The second Kobold, mid-leap, suddenly twitched. Its yellow eyes glazed over. For a second, it didn't see Aiden or Lyra; it saw a wall of fire, or perhaps a predator that wasn't there. It flinched, slashing its club at empty air.
That second was all Aiden needed. He kicked the dying Kobold off his stake, spun, and drove the point into the confused monster's chest.
The third Kobold, seeing its packmates fall, hesitated. It looked at Aiden, who was panting, clutching a bleeding shoulder, and then at Lyra, whose eyes were glowing with a terrifying, ethereal light.
Animal instinct overrode hunger. The monster turned and fled into the dark woods.
Aiden dropped the bloody stake, his legs giving out. He fell to one knee, clutching his shoulder. The adrenaline was fading, replaced by a searing agony.
"Aiden!" Lyra was there instantly, her hands hovering over his injury. "Your shoulder... it's bad."
"Bone's bruised, maybe cracked. Not broken," Aiden gritted out, forcing himself to breathe through his nose. "State check."
[Combat Encounter Resolved]
[Experience Gain: Negligible (Unblessed)]
[Aiden Cross: Stamina 60% -> 20%. Injury: Blunt Force Trauma.]
[Lyra Vale: Mental Stability 94% -> 88%. Symptom: Migraine.]
"I used it," Aiden said, looking at his trembling hand. "Just a fraction. It felt like... pushing water through a needle."
"I made it hallucinate," Lyra whispered, rubbing her temples. "But I feel like I just stayed up for three days straight. My head is spinning."
"That was just the outskirts," Aiden said grimly. He stood up, wincing. "We need a startup. Someone hungry."
He pulled up the World Interaction Log in his mind. The System provided a list of known Familias active in this timeline. One name stood out. Not because they were powerful, but because in the canon timeline, they were practically destitute until a certain rabbit came along.
But Bell wasn't here yet. The Hestia Familia didn't exist yet—Hestia was likely still squatting in Hephaestus's spare room or just descending.
"We find the Soma Familia," Aiden said darkly. "They take anyone."
"The wine zealots?" Lyra wrinkled her nose. "Aiden, they're practically a cult. They enslave their members with Divine Wine."
"They don't ask questions," Aiden countered. "And we have high mental resistance thanks to the Devils. The wine won't work on us the same way."
"It's risky," Lyra warned.
"Dying of soul dissolution in three days is riskier," Aiden pushed himself up, wincing as his shoulder throbbed. "We use them for the Falna. Once the System stabilizes our souls, we leave. We sever the tie."
Lyra looked at him, seeing the cold calculation in his eyes. The Severance Devil influenced his logic—cut the losses, find the shortest path, endure the cost.
She took his hand again. "Okay. But if you start loving the juice, I'm knocking you out."
Aiden managed a weak, dry chuckle. "Deal."
He looked up at the white tower piercing the rainy sky. Somewhere up there, Gods were watching their children play at heroism. Aiden didn't want to be a hero. He just wanted to survive the game.
[Mission Update]
[Objective: Obtain a Falna.]
[Target: Soma Familia (Provisional).]
[Time Remaining: 70 Hours.]
"Let's go," Aiden said. "Welcome to the Dungeon City."