[Somewhere in the Great Orsted Labyrinth]
*Sigh*
"I really didn't expect my day to end like this when I woke up this morning," Sylas muttered, his voice heavy with irritation as it drifted into the oppressive air.
Darkness pressed down on him from every direction, thick and suffocating, as though the land itself resented his presence. Beneath his feet, the ground was a jagged sprawl of blackened stone.
"Out of all the places that old man could've sent me," Sylas continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "It had to be the world of Arifureta: From Commonplace to World's Strongest."
He let out another long sigh, as he slowly shut his eyes.
Unwanted memories surfaced immediately—blinding white light, an irritatingly calm voice, and the wrinkled face of the man responsible for this entire mess.
~
"Can you repeat that?" Sylas asked, completely unfazed as he casually picked his nose with his pinky, eyes half-lidded in boredom.
"FOR THE LAST TIME!" the old man roared, clutching his head as though fending off a migraine. "YOU. HAVE. DIED."
Sylas blinked. Once. Twice.
"Whoa, chill," he said, flicking his finger away and smiling innocently. "You don't gotta yell, old man. Getting that worked up isn't good for your health. Stress kills, you know."
"I swear," the old man growled, rubbing his temples, "you young people are the reason gods develop headaches—"
"Yeah, yeah," Sylas cut in, waving him off. "Get to the important part. You said something earlier… about compensation?"
A vein visibly bulged on the old man's forehead.
"As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me," he hissed, teeth grinding together, "you have died. And as a result, you are now entitled to two choices."
"Choices?" Sylas tilted his head, skepticism clear on his face. "Since when does death come with a menu?"
The old man ignored him and continued, voice stiff and rehearsed, as if he'd given this explanation far too many times already.
"Option one: you reincarnate back on Earth. New body, new life. No memories of who you were before. A clean slate."
Sylas didn't even hesitate.
"Nah," he said flatly. "Hard pass."
The old man paused, then continued through gritted teeth.
"Option two: you may be reborn in another world. The destination will be random. However, you will retain your memories… and you will receive a power based on the last show you finished watching before your death."
Sylas froze.
"…That's it?" He leaned back slightly, folding his arms. "So let me get this straight. I died because you screwed up, and now you're trying to buy my silence with an isekai starter pack?"
The old man's eye twitched violently.
"It was a clerical error," he muttered, bitterness dripping from every word.
"Oh," Sylas nodded solemnly. "Say no more. Totally forgiven. Happens to the best of us. I accidentally erase people from existence in my spare time too."
The room fell dead silent.
The old man inhaled slowly through his nose, clearly summoning every ounce of divine patience he had left. "Which option will you choose?"
Sylas grinned.
"Isn't it obvious? I'll take option two."
Before he could ask another question—about the world, the power, or literally anything useful—the old man snapped his fingers.
~
And that was how Sylas woke up in the Great Orcus Labyrinth.
Present time.
Sylas opened his eyes and stared out across the cavern walls, the alien landscape stretching endlessly in every direction.
"…Yeah," he muttered dryly. "That checks out."
Curious, he slowly clenched his fist.
Something shifted inside him.
It wasn't pain—more like awareness. A warmth bloomed beneath his skin, subtle at first, then spreading outward, as though a dormant muscle he'd never known existed was suddenly responding to his will.
Sylas sucked in a sharp breath.
"Ten."
Aura spilled out from him, thin but stable, wrapping his body like an invisible veil. The air around him grew heavy for a split second before going back to normal.
A laugh burst from his chest—half in disbelief, half in exhilaration.
"No way," he breathed. "I actually have it."
Before he could revel in the moment, something slipped from his pocket and fluttered to the ground.
A folded note.
Frowning, Sylas picked it up and began to read.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"Dear Sylas,
I'll keep this brief.
As you can likely feel by now, your body is capable of unleashing aura at will. Consider this your consolation prize.
Your gift includes mastery potential over the four basic principles of Nen: Ten, Zetsu, Ren, and Hatsu.
Additionally, I've adjusted your body's talent and growth ceiling. For comparison, your potential now stands at one in twenty million—twice that of Killua Zoldyck and Gon Freecss. Yes, your favorites.
Lastly, check your other pocket. You'll find a sealed glass cup with a green leaf attached to it.
Good luck.
—God"
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Sylas stared at the note for a long moment.
Then he crumpled it up, popped it into his mouth, and swallowed.
"Better to get rid of the evidence," he thought calmly.
…
*Sigh*
He reached into his pocket. His fingers brushed against cool glass.
A small, sealed glass cup appeared in his palm, surprisingly intact. Tied to its rim was a thin string, and attached to the string—a single, vibrant green leaf. The color was so vivid it almost looked fake, standing out violently against the darkness that was currently surrounding him.
"…Water Divination," Sylas murmured.
He checked his surroundings before he crouched down and set the cup on a flat stone, steadying it carefully. The water inside was clear and completely still.
Sylas cracked his knuckles. "Alright," he said quietly. "Let's see what I got."
He closed his eyes.
Just like before, he focused inward—toward that warmth coiled deep inside him. He imagined it spreading outward.
"Ten."
The aura responded immediately, flowing naturally, wrapping his body in a thin, controlled layer. The pressure around him eased, stabilizing.
Next, he exhaled.
"Ren."
Aura surged.
Power flooded out of him in a violent rush, pressing outward like a tide breaking free from a dam. Dust skittered across the stone beneath his feet, small pebbles trembling as the air distorted visibly around his body.
Sylas gritted his teeth, legs tensing as he fought to maintain control.
"Easy… easy—"
The aura stabilized, swelling but no longer exploding outward. Sweat beaded on his brow.
"So this is Ren…No wonder most normal people can't survive when they have there aura nodes unlocked," he muttered to himself before opening his eyes.
Leaning over the cup, he slowly extended his aura forward, guiding it into the water.
The surface rippled.
At first, nothing happened.
Then—the leaf twitched, before it slowly bent.
The edges curled inward, veins darkening as if ink were bleeding through them. A faint, unnatural shimmer spread across its surface.
And then—
The water changed color.
A faint, murky tint bled into the clear liquid, swirling slowly like smoke trapped beneath glass.
The glass vibrated softly in his hand as tiny cracks formed along its surface—hairline fractures spiderwebbing outward.
"Hold on—"
Pop.
The glass shattered.
Water splashed across the stone, the leaf fluttering uselessly to the ground as the remains of the cup crumbled to the floor.
Sylas stared at his soaked hands, then down at the broken glass, before finally turning back to the leaf.
"Am I… a Specialist?" He asked uncertain.
The water divination test identifies six categories based on the visual or physical changes to the water and leaf:
Engancer: The volume of water increases, causing the glass to overflow.
Transmuter: The flavor or taste of the water changes.
Emitter: The color of the water changes.
Conjurer: Impurities or small objects appear within the water.
Manipulator: The leaf moves across the surface of the water.
Specilaist: Any other unique change occurs, that don't follow the first five categories.
To be Continued…