The room was so transparent, filled with light so intense it revealed the limitations of language itself.

  What was there was "existence" itself — no, it was a sensation, as though the boundary between existence and non-existence wavered, where eternity and the moment melted together.

  Time had not stopped; it had lost its meaning.

  What resonated through the silence was the reverberation of a question that had once only echoed at the dawn of the world.

  And then, the light faded gently, and he woke up.

  Under an unknown sky, he lay on a grassy field. The cool air flowed into his lungs, and he could feel the "self" that had been dormant somewhere within his body slowly taking shape once again. But it wasn’t the same as before. No, who was the "self" of before, to begin with?

  The grass swayed vibrantly, and two suns hung in the sky. One burned with golden flames, while the other emitted a cold silver light.

  It was as if this world were being simultaneously gazed upon by two different perspectives: "truth" and "fiction."

  Then, a voice descended.

  "You're awake."

  The voice carried the weight of time. It resonated with a nostalgia, as though it had touched the deepest recesses of memory — no, not memory, but the folds of the soul.

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  "…Where am I?"

  "On a different page of the universe. But even the concept of 'here' is ambiguous and fragile. Look at the sky. Reality is already being woven with a different logic."

  When he looked up at the sky, the two suns were undeniably there. Reality was a structure that only rose by being believed in, and now its foundation was quietly being rewritten.

  "Then, let’s first decide on a 'name.'"

  A name. It is a label for the world to recognize an individual’s existence, and at the same time, a weapon for the individual to confront the world.

  "I have... a name?"

  He began to speak, but then he realized. His memory had vanished, as if the tide had receded. His very foundation was wrapped in mist.

  "Then, your name is... Rat."

  The sound of "Rat" was poured into the empty vessel. It was not a name chosen, but one given. However, a name gains power not by meaning, but by being called.

  "Rat, you have a job."

  Rat smiled faintly. "I suppose it’s the usual story, 'Chosen One,' 'Savior,' that sort of thing?"

  The voice quietly laughed in return. "No, it’s a more troublesome and more interesting story. Become one who exposes the gods."

  "God?" Rat's voice mixed with both mockery and curiosity. "So, you’re the god, then?"

  "What is a god? — There are countless definitions. But one thing I can say is this: 'The entity that dragged you into this reality' is exactly that."

  Rat shrugged. "Is it alright to be half-skeptical?"

  "Truth always begins with doubt."

  That exchange felt almost like a Zen koan. But deep in his chest, a fire quietly ignited. It wasn’t fear, but a thirst for the question.

  "Open your status."

  In response to those words, a translucent light appeared in Rat’s vision. There, it read "Yatagarasu."

  "Raven, huh... A servant of the night."

  "Your eyes reflect the night. Only those who rule the darkness have the right to see through the lies of light."

  Rat nodded slightly. "Then, what I’ll expose is light itself."

  The two suns swayed behind him.

  ---

  And then—

  Time passed quietly.

  Whether it was one night or a hundred years, even that seemed unclear.

  A narrow space surrounded by stone and iron. The damp air carried a faint smell of moss.

  Rat opened his eyes once again on the cold floor.

  The ceiling was low, and the light was scarce. The only window was high up, and the faint light filtering through the iron bars fell onto the floor. The air was cold, and it was terribly damp, but Rat didn’t focus on this sensation. Instead, he surrendered himself to the quiet flow of time.

  Before him, there was nothing, only the sterile space enclosed by iron and stone. And within that space, the question floated: how long had he spent in this prison? Was it a single night, or had more time passed? It was impossible to tell.

  Everything was ambiguous, and only the silence reigned.

  But within Rat’s heart, something was changing. The reality surrounding him, its structure, seemed to be gradually and quietly shifting.

  In the midst of that stillness, everything was about to begin.