Takumi Nakamura walked along a Shibuya sidewalk as the rain soaked his cheap suit.
He had his headphones on, even though the music had ended a while ago. He thought about how little his life had changed over the past few years.
He was twenty-four years old, with an office job that barely paid the rent and a small apartment where the only things waiting for him were a large number of half-read light novels.
It wasn't a bad life, really. He didn't have a partner, nor friends to go out with on weekends, nor any great goals to achieve.
That was why he spent his nights reading stories about other worlds.
Worlds where ordinary protagonists ended up becoming important and powerful people.
Lost in his thoughts, he crossed the street distractedly, convinced the traffic light was green.
The truck's horn came too late.
The brakes screeched against the wet asphalt. And in an instant, everything turned white.
He felt no pain, only an absurd thought that crossed his mind as he fell:
'Seriously… a truck? What a stupid cliché.'
After that, only darkness.
He didn't know how much time passed in that void; it could have been seconds or hours.
Suddenly, he felt as if he were opening his eyes, even though he couldn't feel his body. He was floating in a white space that seemed endless.
All of a sudden, a figure made entirely of light appeared in front of him, with contours that blurred like illuminated mist.
"Takumi Nakamura," said a calm voice that resonated directly inside his head.
"Welcome. I am what you would call a god. And I owe you a sincere apology."
Takumi tried to respond, but to his surprise, the words came out without needing to open his mouth.
"An apology? Because of the truck?"
The luminous figure seemed to shrink a little, as if uncomfortable.
"It wasn't exactly because of the truck. Your death was an administrative error; it wasn't scheduled.
According to the records, you were supposed to live until the age of eighty-three. Get married at thirty-two, have two children…
and die peacefully of old age while watching television.
The accident… was a subordinate's oversight. Unacceptable, I know. That's why we're reviewing our procedures."
Takumi fell silent for a moment, processing what he had just heard.
Then he let out a dry laugh that echoed through the place.
"So what happens now? You give me my body back? And undo everything?"
"Unfortunately, that is impossible. Your body is already… irreparable. But as fair compensation, I offer you reincarnation in another world with one reasonable wish.
Most people ask for wealth, physical strength, or powerful magic. You decide."
Takumi didn't think twice. He had read hundreds of stories exactly like this.
He knew what he didn't want: to be born as a weak baby and spend years learning basic magic, only to suffer humiliation from nobles or have to struggle for decades just to become something decent.
"I want maximum potential," he said firmly. "The highest possible level in magic and abilities. When I grow up, no one should be able to stop me. SSS rank, or whatever they call it there. Absolute potential, without limits."
The god fell silent for a few seconds, as if consulting something within himself.
"Granted. Your soul will carry a Soul Core with an SSS rating. In that world, no one has been born with that potential in over a thousand years. You will be a unique anomaly.
But remember: potential is not immediate power. You must make an effort, gain experience, and… form deep bonds with others to awaken it fully."
"Bonds?" Takumi asked, intrigued.
"They are secrets of the world you're going to. You'll discover them in time. Do you desire anything else?"
Takumi simply shook his head.
"No. I just want to be the strongest. That's all."
"Very well. May your new life be long, prosperous, and full of purpose."
The light intensified until it completely blinded him.
He felt himself falling into a deep vertigo, as if the entire universe were spinning around him.
And then, he began to feel cold. A damp cold that seeped into his bones.
Takumi opened his eyes abruptly.
He was lying on a hard, damp straw mattress. The ceiling was made of old wood, with leaks dripping into a rusty bucket.
It smelled of poverty, wet earth, and something he couldn't identify.
A small window let in a faint amount of light. Outside, he could see thatched roofs and chimneys releasing smoke into the cloudy sky.
He tried to sit up, but something was wrong. Very wrong.
He noticed that his arms were thin, fragile-looking, with smooth skin and not a single hair.
His hands… were small, with fine, delicate fingers.
He slowly lowered his gaze, his heart pounding harder with every second.
A tattered, dirty nightgown covered a body that was not his.
His chest was no longer flat. There were two small bulges outlined beneath the thin fabric.
His hips were wider. His legs shorter.
'No. This can't be.'
He brought his trembling hands to his face. His cheeks were soft; his lips fuller, and his nose small.
A lock of long black hair fell over his shoulder and brushed against his skin.
He ran—or rather, stumbled—toward a bucket of stagnant water that reflected like an improvised mirror.
The reflection hit him like a punch.
He was a girl. Around ten or eleven years old.
With a delicate face and large, light-violet eyes that shone even under that poor light.
Long, messy black hair fell all the way to her waist.
Her pale skin was marked by dirt and hunger.
A beauty that stood out despite everything.
Takumi opened his mouth and only a strangled, high-pitched, childish scream came out.
'The god said reincarnation… but he didn't say anything about this.'
Deep in his mind, a cold, mechanical voice resonated for the first time:
[Soul Core detected.
Latent rating: SSS.
Current status: Sealed.
Effective rank: F-.
Owner: Aria (unregistered orphan).
Welcome to Elyria.]
Takumi—now in Aria's body—fell to his knees on the damp straw, his hands shaking.
'This is not what I asked for.'