I was caught in one of those wild, lucid dreams, where reality bends like a streetlight reflection in a rain puddle. I remembered a dream where I was throwing hot pepper at a snake, fighting it off like it was the baddest thing around. Now, this dream felt like an isekai adventure, surreal yet inviting.
I found myself standing in a space that was part ancient castle, part modern hangout. Shadows flickered against stone walls, mixed with unexpected neon hints that made everything feel alive. And then I saw her—a woman so pale she looked like she'd stepped right outghost story, with hair flowing down past her feet and eyes that shimmered with a mysterious light reminiscent of the Byakugan from Naruto.
"Hey, David. How are you?" she greeted me, her tone casual but with an undeniable aura of mystery. There was a softness to her words that didn't quite mask the weight of her presence.
"I'm good, thanks," I replied, still a bit dazed. "And you?"
"I'm good too," she said, nodding slowly. Her eyes held a spark that made me wonder if she was hiding some big secret.
Taking a step closer, I asked, "So how can I help you? I mean, if I'm already here in this dream, I might as well see what happens."
She paused, her gaze sharpening as if weighing her next words. "I need you to come into my world," she said quietly.
My curiosity piqued. "Come into your world? What's so special about it?"
She leaned in, lowering her voice. "My world is built on delicate timelines, each thread interwoven with care. Any new element—someone from a different time—can send shockwaves through the fabric of history."
I couldn't help but smirk a little. "So, you're asking me to be that change? Like, tip the balance?"
"Exactly," she replied, the seriousness in her tone mixed with a hint of mischief.
"And if I go over there, do I get some cool power or something epic like in those isekai stories?" I teased, half-expecting an elaborate explanation of mystical abilities.
Her lips curved into a subtle, knowing smile. "Nothing that dramatic," she said, almost as if laughing softly at the thought. "Just the simple fact of your presence is enough to ripple through the timeline."
Before I could come up with another question, something unexpected happened—a neon-lit gacha machine appeared right beside her, humming with energy. It seemed almost out of place in the ancient, shadowy corridor, yet somehow it fit perfectly into this bizarre, layered reality.
The machine blinked invitingly, its flashing lights reflecting off her pale skin. "Gacha time," she said casually, as if it were the most ordinary part of the conversation. "Take a chance. Who knows what you might get in this world?"
I stared at it for a moment, caught between incredulity and excitement. Here I was, in a lucid dream, being offered a ride into a mysterious world with a gacha machine that promised unexpected twists and turns—all without any dramatic fanfare. It was absurd, it was cool, and it was exactly the kind of adventure I'd been dreaming about.
Reasoned about lucid dream adventure for a couple of seconds
Smiling, I looked at the lady. "How many tries do I get?"
"You get three—the magic number," she replied with a hint of amusement.
"Alright," I said, grinning. "This dream is epic."
I took a step forward and pressed a button that felt real under my fingers, though I didn't think too much about it at the time. When I clicked it, a small piece of paper popped out. On it was written: the memory of the 3rd Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi.
I looked back at the pale lady and asked, "So, is that all I get? Just the memory?"
She just shrugged and said, "Bad roll, I guess. Wanna try again?"
I nodded and went for the second button. This time, the paper that emerged read: The bloodline of a Hyūga. I paused, my mind racing—Hyūga? I thought, "Why not Uchiha?" But before I could say anything, she surged again.
Determined, I spun the last button. The final paper read: the ability to fuse elemental chakra—use elements without needing a bloodline limit. I couldn't help but laugh. "Now this one's pretty cool," I admitted to her. "But honestly, since all these powers are tied to Naruto, does that mean I'm heading into the Naruto world or something?"
Her smile faded into a more serious look as she said, "Nope. I'm sending you to the Type-Moon world." In that instant, her face lost its color. A gaping hole formed beneath me, and before I could react, I plummeted about 20 feet from a building's roof.
I hit the ground with a loud thud, and suddenly, someone with red hair was hovering above me, muttering in Japanese. I couldn't help but think: I thought this was just a dream—why does everything hurt so damn much?
Waking up, I found myself lying on a narrow bed that screamed "school nurse's office." You know the type—those weirdly stiff sheets, the way-too-bright ceiling lights, and that sterile smell that somehow mixes with cheap floor cleaner and despair. Even the way the pillow was, just a folded towel, had me convinced I was back in middle school detention.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes. The room was plain—like, aggressively plain. Off-white walls, a single window that looked like it hadn't been opened since the Meiji era, and a desk with a stack of dusty papers on it. Nothing here felt like it belonged to anyone. It was like I woke up inside a forgotten save file.
I stepped out and immediately got hit in the face by a smell I recognized all too well—cigarette smoke. That sharp, bitter stench that clings to everything like it's got abandonment issues. I pulled my shirt over my nose and followed the trail, wondering who was still out here chain-smoking like it's the early 2000s.
The hall I walked through was long, wide, and, not gonna lie, a little grimy. The place was huge, but no one seemed to take care of it. The floor was scuffed, the ceiling tiles had that sad yellow tint, and the fluorescent lights flickered like they were on their last breath.
I found the door where the smoke was leaking, and knocked.
"Come in," a voice called out, cool and casual.
I opened the door and stepped into what looked like a cluttered office/lab hybrid. Standing there was a red-haired woman wearing glasses, a white button-up shirt, and pants that didn't follow any dress code. She looked halfway between a scientist and someone who hadn't slept in three days.
"So, you're awake," she said, pushing her glasses up and flashing a grin. "You had me worried there for a sec—I thought you died. Haha."
I blinked at her, still half-processing. "Uh... thanks?"
She walked over and held out her hand. "Name's Touko Aozaki."
"I'm David," I replied automatically, shaking her hand.
She raised an eyebrow. "Ah, you speak English."
That caught me off guard. Wait... what? I froze for a second, replaying her words in my head. They hadn't sounded like English—at least not to my ears. But I understood her. Like, perfectly.
And that's when it hit me. She hadn't been speaking English. She was talking in Japanese... and I understood every word.
Which was wild, considering I never studied Japanese a day in my life.
My brain felt like someone had left it on the loading screen. Everything was hazy, like I was stuck halfway between waking up and blacking out again. I rubbed my temples and tried to piece things together.
Touko Aozaki.
The name hit me like a slap to the back of the head. Not just because it was familiar, but because it was terrifyingly familiar.
I looked at her again—red hair, glasses, that smug calm like she owned every room she walked into. It was her. The Touko Aozaki. One of the most dangerous mages in the entire Type-Moon world. The woman who casually made doll copies of herself so perfect that they could cheat death. Pseudo-immortality, just because she felt like it. Girlboss moves, but also terrifying.
My whole body tensed up. This wasn't just a dream anymore. This wasn't just some cool little lucid fantasy.
This was real.
I instinctively took a step back, heart racing. "Nope," I whispered to myself, panic bubbling up.
Then I turned and bolted for the door like my life depended on it—which, let's be honest, it probably did. I didn't know what she wanted with me, but I did know that Touko Aozaki doesn't just help people out of the kindness of her heart.
She's a genius. A killer. A woman who's just as likely to dissect you for fun as she is to hand you a sandwich.
I needed to get out of here. Fast.
When I reached the door, I grabbed the handle—but it wouldn't budge. A faint blue glow pulsed from a rune etched into the wood.
Great. A magic seal.
"Oh? Now, why would you try to run?" the redhead called out behind me, her voice way too casual for how serious this was.
But I didn't care. Something inside me clicked—some kind of power sparked to life. Energy surged through my body like adrenaline mixed with lightning. I didn't stop to question it. I pulled my arm back and punched the door.
Boom. The rune cracked, the wood splintered, and the door burst open.
Didn't wait around to see her reaction—I just ran. Full-on panic mode. Dashing through the halls like a chicken with its head cut off, if that chicken was hopped up on chakra and had no idea where the hell it was.
After a few wrong turns and a near slide into a broom closet, I finally found the exit. I slammed the door open and ran outside, only to slam straight into something invisible.
Thud.
I hit the ground hard.
"Ugh—what the—?"
I reached up and felt around. It was like a wall, but made of solid air. My fingers sparked as I traced it. A barrier. A freaking dome-shaped magical barrier surrounding the entire compound. I could see the runes now, glowing faintly in the air, circling above and around like a magical spiderweb.
I focused my chakra and pressed a hand to the barrier.
"Release."
Sparks flew. The barrier flickered for a moment, revealing the full dome—layers of glowing glyphs, swirling like a living spell.
"Oooh," a voice said behind me, teasing. "So you are a mage."
I turned fast. Touko stood there, hands in her pockets like she had all the time in the world.
"What do you want with me?" I asked, trying to sound braver than I felt. "And how the hell did I even get here?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I was about to ask you that. You're the one who crashed through my roof like an idiot. But it seems...You know who I am."
"Who doesn't?" I muttered, eyeing her warily.
She laughed. Not a creepy villain laugh, more like she was amused. "Fair enough. But here's the thing—I've searched every record, every magical database. There's nothing on you. Not a single trace. As far as the world is concerned, you don't exist."
A chill ran down my spine.
"You being interested in me is not exactly comforting," I said. "Most people you take an interest in end up dead. Or worse."
"Alright, how about this?" She pulled a scroll from thin air—it shimmered with magical energy. "I'm offering a geas. A binding contract. You talk, I listen. I won't harm you. You've got my word—and the magic to prove it."
She paused, looking at me seriously for the first time.
"You're not escaping this place. That much should be obvious. So... why not talk?"