The alarm buzzed softly in the dark.
Ren's eyes blinked open, the ceiling above him blurred with morning shadows. He didn't move right away—just stared upward, as if trying to remember whether he had actually slept or simply laid there all night, thinking.
Eventually, he sat up, rubbing his temple. That dull pressure was back, clinging to the edge of his skull like leftover static from a dream.
"I need to stop thinking about that stuff."
He slid out of bed, feet touching the cold floor, and wandered into the bathroom. The lights flickered slightly when he turned them on—not unusual, just irritating. He reached for the tap, splashed water onto his face, and slowly looked up at the mirror.
His reflection stared back.
Blank-faced. Tired. Same red eyes.
But something was wrong.
For just a second, it moved out of sync.
Like a bad frame in a video.
When Ren tilted his head, his reflection twitched too quickly—then snapped back into alignment.
His hand froze, still dripping water.
He didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
And the moment passed.
The mirror was normal again.
"...Nope."
He wiped his face with a towel and stepped out of the bathroom, pretending nothing had happened. But the tension had already curled into the back of his neck.
As he stepped outside, the streets of Osaka were their usual mix of quiet chaos—vending machines humming, neon signs flickering even in daylight, students walking in clusters, chatting and laughing.
Ren walked alone.
His eyes scanned the sidewalk ahead, but his mind wasn't on the road. Something in the air felt... thick. Not humid. Just—heavy.
Halfway to school, the world slowed.
He didn't stop walking, but everything around him—cars, footsteps, even the wind—stuttered for a moment.
And then it hit:
[System Notice: Sin Residue Detected]
[Proximity: 34 meters – Class: WRATH]
[Source: Unknown]
[Threat Level: Inactive]
A chill prickled across the back of his neck. The words glowed red in the corner of his vision for less than five seconds—and then disappeared.
Everything snapped back into motion.
Ren stopped walking, standing in place as people passed him by, unaware. No one else had seen it. No one else had felt it.
But it was real.
He looked over his shoulder slowly.
Nothing.
Still… something was near.
Watching.
Classes moved slower than usual.
Ren sat at his desk, eyes on the whiteboard, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The words the teacher scribbled in black marker didn't register. Neither did the soft murmur of students flipping pages or whispering behind their hands.
All he could think about was the warning.
Sin Residue Detected.
Class: WRATH.
Proximity: 34 meters.
Why thirty-four? Why so specific?
Why was the threat labeled "inactive"?
Was it a person? An object? Him?
He tapped his pen slowly against the desk, keeping his eyes forward, but letting them drift—just slightly—to the corners of the room.
And there it was.
A flicker.
Barely perceptible—just beyond the line of sight.
Something moving by the window.
When he turned his head, it was gone.
Ren clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze. He wasn't imagining it. He knew he wasn't.
During the lunch break, he walked the hallway quietly, watching the light from the windows stretch across the floor. The building was as loud and chaotic as ever—students laughing, shouting, teachers scolding.
But it felt like all of that noise was behind a layer of static.
Faint. Distant. Wrong.
As he passed a bulletin board near the stairwell, he stopped. Something pulsed in his wrist—barely noticeable. A slow warmth. He tugged his uniform sleeve back just enough to check his arm.
And there it was.
A faint, glowing red mark—like a brand—curved into the skin just below his wrist. The shape wasn't complete, like an unfinished crest or seal. It glimmered with lines and symbols he didn't recognize. As soon as he noticed it, it faded into nothing.
Ren stared at his arm, fingers trembling just slightly.
"...Okay."
"So this is happening now."
He glanced around. No one had seen. No one had noticed. The hallway moved on like nothing had changed.
But something had.
He could feel it.
Like a wire stretching tighter inside his chest. Like something was watching him through glass.
Something that didn't blink.
[After Some Time — During Class]
Classes moved slower than usual.
Ren sat at his desk, eyes on the whiteboard, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The words the teacher scribbled in black marker didn't register. Neither did the soft murmur of students flipping pages or whispering behind their hands.
All he could think about was the warning.
Sin Residue Detected.
Class: WRATH.
Proximity: 34 meters.
Why thirty-four? Why so specific?
Why was the threat labeled "inactive"?
Was it a person? An object? Him?
He tapped his pen slowly against the desk, keeping his eyes forward, but letting them drift—just slightly—to the corners of the room.
And there it was.
A flicker.
Barely perceptible—just beyond the line of sight.
Something moving by the window.
When he turned his head, it was gone.
Ren clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze. He wasn't imagining it. He knew he wasn't.
The classroom buzzed faintly with the rustle of paper and the soft squeak of a marker across the whiteboard. Ren sat in his seat, staring ahead but clearly distant. His fingers tapped a slow, rhythmic pattern on the edge of his desk—steady, unthinking.
His mind was still tangled in what the System had shown him. That strange pulse in his wrist… the shadow in the hallway…
Why thirty-four meters? Was it getting closer?
"Mr. Kagatsuchi."
The voice cut through his thoughts.
Ren blinked.
The teacher, a woman in her late thirties with sharp glasses and tired eyes, looked directly at him. The rest of the class turned to follow her gaze.
"Would you mind telling us the answer to this question?"
There was a long pause.
Ren didn't flinch, didn't even look embarrassed. He just lifted his head slightly and met her eyes with that same unreadable calm.
"I was thinking of something else," he said, voice low but clear. "Could you repeat the question?"
The class shifted uncomfortably. The teacher's mouth opened, then closed again. She frowned—just slightly. Something about his eyes made her hesitate. Something cold, focused, but… not entirely present.
She looked away.
"It's fine," she said finally. "You're new. I'll let it slide this time. But starting tomorrow, pay attention in class."
Ren gave a small nod and sat back in his seat.
He didn't smile.
Didn't sigh.
Just leaned back against the chair and stared out the window again.
During the lunch break, he walked the hallway quietly, watching the light from the windows stretch across the floor. The building was as loud and chaotic as ever—students laughing, shouting, teachers scolding.
But it felt like all of that noise was behind a layer of static.
Faint. Distant. Wrong.
As he passed a bulletin board near the stairwell, he stopped. Something pulsed in his wrist—barely noticeable. A slow warmth. He tugged his uniform sleeve back just enough to check his arm.
And there it was.
A faint, glowing red mark—like a brand—curved into the skin just below his wrist. The shape wasn't complete, like an unfinished crest or seal. It glimmered with lines and symbols he didn't recognize. As soon as he noticed it, it faded into nothing.
Ren stared at his arm, fingers trembling just slightly.
"...Okay."
"So this is happening now."
He glanced around. No one had seen. No one had noticed. The hallway moved on like nothing had changed.
But something had.
He could feel it.
Like a wire stretching tighter inside his chest. Like something was watching him through glass.
Something that didn't blink.
In the Night—Dinner
The soft hum of the kitchen fan was the only sound breaking the silence.
Ren sat at the dining table, poking lazily at the last bits of rice in his bowl. Across from him, Miyuki sipped her tea, her eyes calmly scanning something on her tablet. The soft blue glow lit her face in a way that made her seem even colder than usual.
For a while, Ren just watched her.
No tension. No curiosity. Just a moment to study the woman who had decided to take in a kid from a juvenile center for no clear reason.
Eventually, he spoke.
"…Can I ask something?"
Miyuki didn't look up. "You just did."
Ren blinked, then gave a faint smirk. "Funny. But seriously."
She set the tablet aside, folding her hands neatly on the table.
"I'm listening."
He hesitated for a moment, tapping his chopsticks together, then said, "The System. I know the basics, but not everything. And… some weird things happened today. So I figured I should at least know what kind of world I'm in now."
There was a pause. Then Miyuki nodded once.
"The System, huh…" she said, her tone neutral. "Well, for starters, it's not something you're forced to use. When someone awakens a system, they receive a series of tasks. Some people take them. Most don't. Completing tasks can bring money, recognition, status… but failure usually brings nothing—unless your system is unstable."
Ren leaned forward slightly. "Unstable?"
Miyuki's gaze met his, steady and sharp. "Some systems evolve based on emotion. Trauma. Sin. If someone like that refuses tasks or loses control, the system starts acting on its own. That's when things become dangerous."
She stood and moved toward the sink, rinsing her teacup. "Those are the cases the world tries to prevent. That's why the Zone system exists."
Ren followed her movements, absorbing each word.
"Zones?"
"The world is divided into three categories now," she continued. "Green Zones—like this one—are considered safe. Blue Zones are dangerous. That's where most dungeon activity occurs. Red Zones…" She paused. "Are where all hell breaks loose. Abandoned cities, fragmented lands. Monster outbreaks. System anomalies. Fragments."
She said the last word like it tasted bitter.
Ren narrowed his eyes. "Fragments?"
She turned slightly, arms crossed now. "Sin Fragments. They're not monsters. Not systems. Not human, either. They're glitches… corrupted leftovers from failed awakenings. Born from emotions people couldn't control."
Ren looked down at his hand.
Wrath… Proximity: 34 meters…
"Ever seen one?" he asked.
Miyuki's expression didn't change. But her answer was sharp.
"Yes. Once. It killed a Tier 3 executor in front of me before it vanished into the shadows."
A cold silence settled between them.
Then Miyuki added, "You don't want to get involved with things like that, Ren. If your system ever acts strangely—anything you can't explain—you report it immediately."
Ren didn't reply right away. He just gave a half-smile and looked away.
Report it, huh…?!
[After Some Time]
The apartment was silent.
Dinner had passed quietly, and Ren had said little before slipping into his room. He lay on the bed with his arms folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun in slow circles.
Sleep wouldn't come.
His chest felt heavy — like something was sitting on it. Every time he closed his eyes, that damned red glow from earlier kept flashing in the dark. His wrist still tingled faintly where the mark had appeared.
"Maybe I just need air."
Ren slipped out of bed, tossed on a jacket, and quietly left the apartment. The hallway was dark. The elevator hummed as it descended.
Outside, the night air slapped against his skin — cold, damp, and oppressively still. No cars. No breeze. Not even the hum of vending machines or the flicker of distant neon signs.
He walked.
One block. Then another. Then ten.
The narrow streets of Osaka blurred past him as he moved without aim, drawn forward by some need to breathe — or maybe to escape something crawling beneath his skin.
Before long, he found himself on the edge of the city, where concrete faded into gravel paths and sparse grass. The river ran silent nearby, reflecting faint starlight across its still surface. The world felt distant here — almost fake.
He stared out at the water for a moment, the silence swallowing everything.
And then—
[System Alert: Sin Fragment Detected]
[Classification: WRATH]
[Distance: 0.2 meters]
[Engagement: IMMINENT]
Ren didn't move.
The air behind him had gone cold — not wind, but absence.
Then… he turned.
There it was.
Something — no, someone — stood at the edge of the riverbank behind him, half in shadow. It flickered at the edges like corrupted pixels in a game, humanoid but wrong. As it stepped forward, Ren saw glowing cracks across its skin, like burning magma crawling under charcoal. Two molten red eyes stared straight into him.
And it smiled.
Ren's chest clenched.
"Nope—nope, not dealing with that!"
He turned and ran.
His feet pounded against the river path. He didn't care where it led. He just needed to get away. But the sound behind him warped — like time skipping, like footsteps that didn't belong to legs.
Then—
FWOOOSH
A sudden burst of flame tore past him, lighting up the night in a flash of orange and red. It scorched the gravel path just inches ahead, the heat licking his legs.
Not enough to burn.
But enough to trip him.
Ren hit the ground hard — a violent thud that knocked the air from his lungs. His body bounced against the pavement, pain exploding across his knees, elbows, ribs.
He coughed, gasped, and tried to scramble away, his breath coming in ragged bursts.
"Move… come on, move—!"
His hands clawed at the gravel. Fingernails cracked.
His legs kicked weakly behind him, but they didn't respond like they should. The fall had stunned him. His limbs felt heavy, sluggish. Like they weren't his.
Then he felt it.
That pressure.
Hot. Crushing. Unstoppable.
A burning foot came down on his back, pinning him like an insect. He screamed — a raw, panicked cry that barely made it past his throat.
Another foot followed.
Right on his leg.
A sickening crack echoed through the night as something sharp ground into bone. Ren howled, eyes wide, face twisted in pain. His leg lit up in white-hot agony, like fire eating away from the inside out.
He tried to kick, to twist his body — anything — but he couldn't move.
Not an inch.
He was pinned, like an animal, like prey.
The fragment didn't say a word.
Didn't make a sound.
It just leaned in closer — slowly — as though savoring his pain.
Like it had all the time in the world.
Ren's hands shook violently as he tried to push himself up, but his arms buckled uselessly.
"Stop—please—just stop—"
His voice cracked. He wasn't shouting anymore.
He was begging.
His cheek pressed to the dirt, his eyes blurry with tears he refused to let fall. And in that moment, with the fragment's molten eyes staring down at him like judgment itself…
His thoughts turned inward.
"Is this it…?"
"Is this how I go out?"
"Was all of this just waiting to catch up to me…?"
He thought of everything.
The blood.
The fire.
The cold way he'd stared down his parents' final screams.
"Maybe I really am just getting what I deserve."
The pain in his leg flared again as the monster ground its heel deeper into the shattered bone. He couldn't scream
anymore — his throat was hoarse, lungs too weak.
He gasped once.
Twice.
Then shut his eyes.
"…I guess no one really escapes their sins."
His voice was barely a whisper — more breath than words.
Defeated. Honest. Human.
He stopped struggling.
He stopped hoping.
And in that final second before everything went dark—
He closed his eyes, prepared for the end.