Chapter 1:The Reincarnated One and the Maiden of the Crystal

Chapter 1: The Reincarnated One and the Maiden of the Crystal Sanctuary

The 30th century is not the future that 20th-century optimists dreamed of. There are no colonies on thousands of exoplanets in the Milky Way, nor a utopia of universal peace filled with people made immortal by nanotechnology or perfect virtual realities. 

What exists is an Earth that—after the opening of the Lemegeton Gate a thousand years ago by reckless sorcerers and corporations—was forced to share its space with what was once considered impossible. 

Reality became malleable with the public revelation of witchcraft, once myths supposedly disproven by science.

The once scarce mana thickened rapidly shortly after the birth of the Mirror World, and after a few centuries of chaos, the planet's geopolitics were redrawn by the will of entities that previously only existed in myths.

New races were born and the old ones revealed themselves to existence.

In this setting of technology and sorcery; where even Elves and Dwarves have appeared, the Federation of Nippon stands as a bastion of artificial harmony, and its most precious jewel is the Floating Island of Sakura.

Seen from afar, Sakura; the ancient Japanese archipelago fused into a huge island held up by a network of gravitational engines and ancient runic seals, was the perfect fusion of technology, nature and spirituality.

It is a forest-city where skyscrapers are wrapped in bioluminescent vines and sandalwood temples house data servers that buzz with digital prayers.

In a secluded corner of this island, where the noise of electric bicycles is replaced by the whisper of cherry blossoms, lies the residence of Emma's family.

The morning at Emma's grandparents' house always began with the same ritual: the rhythmic sound of a bamboo broom sweeping the patio and the aroma of miso boiling in the kitchen.

Emma woke up—not to the sound of a deafening alarm clock or the faint sunlight filtering through the shoji paper, bathing her face—but to the sensation of a speck of dust dancing on her nose. 

She slowly opened her eyes with golden irises and looked at the wooden ceiling of her room. 

For a few seconds, he remained motionless, listening to the distant murmur of the island. To anyone else, he was simply a young man with an absurd physical talent and a questionable taste in antiques. But in the silence of her mind, Emma knew the truth.

“Another beautiful day in this world of techno-magic, classic fantasy races and gods,” he thought, sitting up with a yawn.

Emma was a reincarnated being. 

He didn't remember exactly how he died in his previous life, he only remembered the brightness of LED screens, the smell of instant ramen from a convenience store and the feeling that the world, back then, was much more boring. 

He was born into this new world with the consciousness of a 21st-century man, which explained why, while other children played with magic drones, he sought nothing more than to buy remnants of what he called "Classical Culture" when he had time.

Emma stood up and walked toward her bookshelf, which took up three of the four walls of her room. It was her most sacred treasure.

In a world where history was erased by the chaos of Lemegeton, objects from the "Old World" were archaeological rarities. But for Emma, ​​they were pieces of her soul.

There, protected by static fields to prevent dust from damaging them, lay faded plastic action figures whose names history had forgotten: warriors with spiky hair, transforming robots, and magical heroines with short skirts. 

He had posters restored with alchemical resin of series that no one could watch anymore, and a collection of "Optical Storage Discs" (DVDs) that he treated with more care than the relics of the Church of Westphalia.

To the residents of Sakura, Emma was a collector of historical junk. To him, those objects were his anchor to sanity. 

In a world where gods existed and where Demons and Ghosts were a real Tuesday afternoon threat, reading a manga volume from 2005 was the only thing that reminded him that he was still "him."

I take one of the slightly yellowed figures—which represented a beautiful young woman with blue hair in pigtails and exaggeratedly large eyes—with an affection and fervor that some might mistake for fanaticism.

He murmured in an affectionate voice that made him look like a madman, "Good morning, Miku-chan. Even today, you're beautiful."

—Emma, ​​if you keep religiously staring at that piece of plastic 'Hatsune something-or-other', your breakfast is going to turn into a living organism—his grandfather Goro's voice boomed from the hallway, startling him and almost making him drop his Miku.

"I'm coming!" Emma replied quickly while cursing under her breath, gently putting Miku back in her place.

Then he dressed in a simple black T-shirt and gray linen trousers. He didn't need fancy clothes; his body was his true attire. Looking in the mirror, he saw a seventeen-year-old with a gaze that sometimes seemed to be older than his body. 

His golden eyes, a trait awakened by the mana saturation of this world, shone with an intensity that he tried to extinguish by relaxing his eyelids.

He slowly slid the door open and stepped out of the room, immediately greeted by the aroma of miso soup and grilled fish. The traditionally designed wooden hallway creaked beneath his feet, a sound his grandfather had never bothered to fix, saying that "a warrior must know when his home speaks to him."

In the dining room, the low table was set with military precision. Her grandfather, a man who looked as if he had been carved from a mountain rock, sat on the floor with his back straight, reading a holographic newspaper. 

He didn't look up when Emma came in, but the air in the room became noticeably heavier.

"You're three minutes late," the old man said. His voice was like the clash of two tectonic stones. "Your sense of time is as poor as your left guard was during yesterday's exchange."

Emma sat down, crossing her legs, and picked up the chopsticks.

"Grandpa is always so optimistic in the morning," Emma replied playfully, though she didn't dare start eating until Grandma appeared with the tea.

Emma's grandmother entered with silent steps. She was a woman of a beauty that defied the logic of aging. Her hair was like threads of golden silk that shimmered faintly in the light. 

He placed the teapot on the table and looked at Emma with a tenderness that concealed a dangerous intelligence.

"Stop pressuring the boy, Goro-chan," she said, sitting down. "Emma-chan did a good job yesterday in the Valley of Cursed Ashes. The Abyssal Monarch she defeated wasn't just any demonic beast. Cleaning up the remnants of that energy level will take the Solomon Foundation at least three months of confusing research."

"He won by brute force," Grandpa Goro grumbled. "If he'd used the 'Force Filtering' technique I taught him last month, he wouldn't have had to take the full force of that final swipe. Now his clothes are in tatters. He's a waste of fabric."

Emma ate in silence, used to these reprimands. His grandparents were an enigma he had decided not to try to solve for his own sanity. He knew they weren't normal people. 

In a world where strength was measured by ranks and licenses, they lived outside of all records, something abnormal that was better left unquestioned.

"By the way, Emma-chan," Aoi said, changing the subject, "Keiko-chan says she wants to go to the festival after she finishes her morning prayers. She had a rough night. The island's barrier is vibrating at a frequency only she can feel. She's exhausted."

Emma stopped chewing. Kimiyo Keiko's situation was always the weak point of her patience.

Keiko was the heir to the Crystal Sanctuary, which in modern terms meant that she was the biological "Purification Console" of the entire island. 

If Keiko did not perform her daily rituals, the island's mana became chaotic due to the accumulated miasma; plants withered and crystal-based technology began to fail. 

It was an inhuman burden for a sixteen-year-old girl, one that she accepted with a serene smile that broke Emma's heart.

Although what she was doing could be solved with technology, it was extremely expensive and inefficient, as well as not traditional at all, so the state chose the cheapest option that fit with the religious desires of the citizens of Japan.

"Is the Council of the Nine Families still forcing you to double your purification shifts?" Emma asked, her voice slightly cold.

“It’s the price of peace, Emma,” Grandpa Goro replied, finally closing his newspaper. “She’s a tool for them. That’s why your departure for Academy City in Atlantis isn’t a vacation. The Council allowed her to go because they believe that in Academy City she’ll be able to ‘attune’ to the Radiant Metal of the Solomon Foundation and gain greater power. They want to turn her into a far-reaching, more powerful purifier by the time she returns.”

Emma squeezed the chopsticks until the wood creaked.

—I'm not going to let them use it like that.

"Then make sure you're strong enough that no one can ask your permission," Grandpa declared. "And speaking of Atlantis... remember, you won't be going alone with her. The little cat is joining the journey too. Her 'awakening' has been... noisy."

Emma sighed, imagining the chaos. Kaguya Hanako, her other childhood friend, had just awakened as a cat-type Therian. 

But this was no ordinary transformation; Hanako was a computer genius, and her newfound instincts were clashing violently with her logical brain, creating a mixture of antisocial hacker and territorial feline that promised to make the trip to Atlantis either a living hell or a comedy of errors.

"Hanako sent me a message last night," Emma said, regaining her composure. "She says that if anyone tries to put a bell on her again 'for aesthetic reasons,' she'll hack into the Mayor's office life support system."

Aoi let out a small laugh.

"That girl's got a temper. Emma-chan, after you eat, go to the shrine. Keiko-chan needs to see you. The calm your presence brings is the only thing that truly helps her rest."

Emma nodded. She finished her breakfast quickly, got up, and went to her room to pick up a small gift she had been preparing for Keiko. 

It was an old music player he'd managed to repair from scrap parts, filled with melodies from its previous life. Quiet music, without mana, without intentions, just pure art.

♦♦♦♦

Emma now walked along the stone paths of Sakura Island, expressionless. Around her, life flowed with a normalcy that, deep down, still seemed abnormal to her. 

The priests checked the flow of mana from the sacred trees, some children floated a few meters above the air inside bubbles twice their size, and the girls ran chasing illusory butterflies projected by toys.

As he reached the gates of the Crystal Sanctuary, the air changed. It became colder, purer. There, in the center of the pavilion, he saw Keiko. 

She was kneeling, dressed in her red and white hakama that could not completely hide her two "breast globes", surrounded by crystals that floated in the air that absorbed the darkness she drew from the environment. 

His face was pale, almost translucent.

Emma stopped a few meters away. She didn't want to interrupt the ritual, but her mere presence made the crystals vibrate with a warm, golden light.

Keiko opened her eyes. They were eyes that had seen too much for her age, but upon seeing Emma, ​​they regained a human sparkle.

"You're late, Emma-kun," she said in a weak but sweet and charming voice; the kind that makes you feel very comfortable and even makes you wonder what it would be like to hear her sing.

"I know," he replied, gently approaching. "But I've brought something that doesn't need rituals to work."

Saying that, Emma sat on the polished wooden steps of the pavilion, right at the edge of the purification circle. 

Keiko let out a long sigh, and the crystals that floated around her slowly descended to rest on their stone pedestals. 

The violet glow that denoted the miasma contamination had faded, replaced by a pure white luminescence that emanated against the maiden's own skin.

"You shouldn't push yourself so hard before the trip," Emma said, extending her hand.

Keiko took it. Her fingers were ice cold, a physical consequence of channeling energies that reject biological life. 

However, at the touch of Emma's hand, a faint blush returned to her cheeks. Emma's body, saturated from her grandparents' training, emitted a "warmth" that wasn't thermal, but vital. 

For Keiko, touching Emma was like stepping out of a dark room into the midday sun.

“It’s my duty, Emma-kun. If I don’t filter the miasma residue in the network, Sakura Island will begin to sink in less than forty-eight hours,” she replied, letting her head tilt slightly to one side. “Besides, the Council of Nine is anxious. They say there will be ‘denser mana sources’ in Atlantis. They’re afraid my body won’t be able to withstand the attunement to the Solomon Foundation’s Mithril.”

Emma squeezed his hand gently, feeling a pang of anger. 

In her previous life, teenagers worried about exams or who they liked; here, Keiko was treated like a piece of hardware that shouldn't overheat.

"You're not an automatic purifier, Keiko. Don't let them convince you otherwise." Emma pulled out the small music player she'd repaired. "Here. My grandfather says old music has no 'intention,' so it won't interfere with your spiritual circuits. They're songs from a time when people just sang for the sake of singing."

Keiko handled the device as if it were a legendary diamond.

"Thank you... You always bring me things that seem to come from another world," she said with a sad smile. "Sometimes I think you don't quite belong here either, Emma-kun. You have a way of looking at things... as if you already know how all stories end."

Emma felt a flutter in her heart. Keiko's intuition was sharp.

"I'm just a guy who's read too many old comics," he lied matter-of-factly. "Speaking of strange stories... Have you talked to Hanako today?"

Keiko let out a small laugh, the first genuine laugh of the morning.

—I spoke with her through the spiritual link an hour ago. She's still holed up. She says her ears are now picking up the hum of the city's transformers and that it's "60-hertz torture." But what bothers her most isn't that... it's the change.

Emma grimaced. Hanako's case was the hottest (and most forbidden) topic of conversation in town.

“I’m still having trouble processing it,” Emma admitted, gazing at the cherry blossoms. “Hanako was… well, he was my best friend. The guy I played online shooters with and argued about encryption algorithms with. For the Cat Archetype to suddenly rewrite him as a Therian girl is…”

“It’s the will of the world, Emma-kun,” Keiko interrupted, though her eyes held compassion. “The awakening of an Archetype doesn’t change who you are at your core, but it does adapt your body to the function your soul demands.” Hanako was always someone who preferred to observe from the shadows, someone with a mental agility that surpassed everyone else’s. The “Cat” Archetype simply… materialized that essence.

Suddenly, Keiko's tone turned playful, leaning forward slightly, causing her breasts to sag downwards — Although I understand that it might be a shock for you... after all, she's a very beautiful girl now.

Emma blushed immediately, scratching her cheek.

"That has nothing to do with it! It's just... it's weird. His instincts are now... aggressive. The last time I tried to go into his room to bring him food, he almost gouged my eye out because he said I 'invaded his territory without permission.'"

“Give her time,” Keiko said, rising gracefully. “Tomorrow, the three of us will go to the port for her final medical checkups. It might be the first time Hanako has left her room since the incident. You have to be patient with her, Emma. She’s dealing with a new biology, hormones she doesn’t understand, and a male ego that refuses to accept that he now has to buy lacy underwear.”

Emma imagined the scene and felt a chill.

—This is going to be a disaster in Atlantis, isn't it?

"Probably," Keiko said, walking toward the sanctuary exit, her red hakama billowing in the breeze. "But at least we won't be bored. Get ready, Emma-kun. The transport ship arrives in six days. And I've been told the Princess of Westphalia will be on board as well."

The Princess of Westphalia.

Upon hearing that title, Emma frowned slightly.

There was no one who didn't know that person's nation, one of the 8 superpowers of the New World.

The Westphalian Empire—once of Germanic origin—is not merely a nation; it is a military order of continental scale. Its culture is a reflection of its history: the steel tempered under the Dragon's fury and the faith that kept them united in the face of Lemegeton's chaos.

His worldview was "Order over chaos."

For a citizen of Westphalia, the universe is a battleground between Divine Order (reality) and Chaos (the Underworld, the Mirror World, and the 72 Pillars of the Underworld).

They see their Empire as humanity's shield against evil. Their motto is "We stand so the world does not fall."

They were a religious nation that described other nations like the Solomon Foundation as "dangerous merchants" who make pacts with the enemy and Columbus's Latin Confederation as "mutation beasts" who play with creation. 

They only respect the Goryeo Kingdom because of its similar code of honor. As for Japan... Let's just say there's a certain respect for its harmonious techno-spiritual integration with the Kami of their religion; although they don't like that this country creates androids with human rights and reproductive capabilities.

But what is truly problematic about Westphalia is its distaste for the non-human, such as Elves and Dwarves, and Hanako was now non-human; a Therian.

In Westphalia, ancient races, nascent races, and Therians are viewed with theological suspicion. 

Regarding the latter, the Great Western Church classifies them as "Deviant Humans" or "Sub-humans" who damaged God's divine design. 

Although they are not openly persecuted due to diplomatic treaties, the Therians of their nation are prohibited from accessing the high ranks of the Order of Paladins.

That did not mean that the third princess, Philia von Westfalia, was going to cause trouble. 

Because of those beautiful treaties that protect non-humans, such as the Rising Races and the Elves and Dwarves, your nation can only act with disapproval towards them, viewing them as second-class citizens at best.

Even so, the fact that the princess of a racist nation was in the same boat as them...was, at the very least, not ideal.

"How troublesome," Emma grumbled, to which Keiko nodded as she watched him leave.