(Narrator POV)
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Darkness.
It was cold and infinite, yet not empty. No ground beneath his feet. No ceiling above his head. Just a void without meaning, like the space between thoughts or the pause between dying breaths.
Ritsuka Fujimaru floated there, suspended in the void, his body weightless and his mind dissolving. There was no past, no future. ..only the alluring pull of nothingness.
He didn't resist it.
'Let me sleep…'
The trials of a hundred Singularities, the screams of the Lostbelts, the battle against gods and beasts...his burden...melted away in the silence.
He forgot Chaldea.
He forgot Da Vinci.
He forgot Mash.
He forgot Hakuno.
He even forgot his name.
Then—
A tiny hand reached through the black.
Small fingers brushed against his own and clasped them firmly, glowing faintly against the formless dark.
"Tch. That was a close call."
A girl's voice echoed, not through sound, but directly into what remained of Ritsuka's unraveling consciousness.
"I never thought you'd end up in another world. A completely different plane..one even I didn't imagine. No wonder we're all taken an interest in you."
The girl stepped forward, her form like a glimmering outline of reality itself...impossible to fully see, as if light refused to reflect her true shape. But she felt young. Ancient. Kind… and terrifying.
"You're drifting because she's watching. That's why your dreams are never your own. Because you're hers but at same time it's yours."
She spoke calmly, even playfully, yet the weight of her words threatened to crush reason.
"Azathoth's gaze drifts through dreams… and you, Fujimaru, are her vessel. That's why your soul always dreams in your sleep. That's why the gods outside like us the stars whisper your name. We know you're tied to her. That you're her property."
A flash of something terrible flickered behind her voice—one word, unspoken, that Ritsuka couldn't hear in this state but would someday remember.
Azathoth.
"Your old world had a barrier. A layered protection built by root will and multiverse wall. But here? This world of Marvel and the old man creator is carefree guy, who gave full freedom to our kind here? There's no such shield. No Chaldeas. No Romani. No Foreigners needed anymore. Now any of us can reach you."
Her fingers tightened on his fading hand.
"But I won't let them break you. Not yet. Until your journey is over. And also Unlike the others, I don't want Her to awaken. If she does… this universe, and all the ones next to it, will collapse into a single screaming dream."
"That's why I'll leave someone behind. Someone to protect you, until you remember. Until you summon the real one… through your bond. Yes I will bring my vessel to watch you."
A delicate light bloomed in the void...gentle, warm. From the girl's other hand, she conjured a soft shape. Blonde hair. A doll-like figure in a black dress. Eyes wide with ancient wisdom masked by childish innocence.
It was Abigail Williams. A copy...constructed not from the Throne of Heroes, but directly from the will of the Outer God who now guided Ritsuka's soul.
"She'll live in your dreams for now. A guardian between you and Her. The rest is up to you."
The girl stepped back, her form dissolving like fog. Only her voice remained, barely above a whisper.
"You won't remember this. Not yet. But we'll meet again, my little Stargazer."
"Sleep well, vessel of the void."
And then.
Light.
---
Morning
Ritsuka's eyes opened sharply. He was sweating, breath shallow, heart pounding.
Hakuno stirred beside him, half-asleep. "You okay?"
He blinked slowly. The ceiling fan spun above, casting circular shadows across the room.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Just a weird dream…"
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(Few hours later)
Narrator POV
The waves lapped softly against the golden shore, sunlight glinting on the water like scattered gems. Ritsuka Fujimaru sat cross-legged under the shade of a coconut tree, staring at the road like it held the secrets of the universe.
James leaned against a jagged piece of driftwood, eyes scanning the road as if expecting an Uber. Karna stood nearby, arms crossed, regal as ever, but still watching every passing vehicle with sharp eyes.
Hakuno Kishinami was the only one who looked calm. She had pulled out a tiny magical charm and was using it to ward off Charles Xavier's telepathy not that she entirely trusted it, but it was the best she could manage with energy, Ritsuka given to her.
"The Blackbird will be here soon," she said again, her voice even.
James let out a huff. "You mean the car, right? Like a slick spy ride or something?"
Even Karna turned slightly. "The name suggests an avian origin. Perhaps it's black in color and silent in movement."
Ritsuka tapped his foot and glanced at a passing sedan. "Maybe it's invisible and we already missed it."
Hakuno closed her eyes and sighed. "It's not invisible. Just… wait for it."
James rubbed the back of his neck. "You sure your barrier will block that bald guy's telepathy? I don't want my head turning into a radio."
"James, for the tenth time, yes," Hakuno said flatly. "Xavier won't be reading our minds. I've already coded enough mana patterns to scramble even a Moon Cell scan."
"But I've failed missions because of bad luck before. I'm just—"
"Being careful," she finished. "I know. You've said that too."
Karna nodded. "I agree with him. We are not in our world anymore. Precaution is wise."
Ritsuka muttered, "We've had worse than telepaths."
Still, they kept watching the road. A truck went by. Then a motorbike. A bus.
"Shouldn't it be here by now?" Ritsuka asked.
Hakuno was about to answer—then her eyes widened.
"Guys," she said, pointing upward. "Look."
They followed her finger toward the blue sky.
There, slicing through the clouds like a silent predator, came a sleek black jet....its wings wide and menacing, its body gleaming like a shadow forged into metal. It made no thunder, no roar, only a low hum that grew louder as it descended from the heavens.
"...That's the Blackbird?" James whispered.
"It's a bird that flies," Karna said, completely straight-faced.
"...Not a car," Ritsuka blinked.
The jet glided downward like a falling blade, stirring up wind and sand as it hovered above the beach before gracefully lowering onto a flat patch of cleared sand.
James held up a hand against the wind. "Alright, I take it back. This is actually pretty damn cool."
Ritsuka nodded, squinting. "Yeah. Unexpected… but cool."
The hatch on the side of the jet hissed open, revealing a lowered platform ramp. Out walked Charles Xavier, rolling forward with his ever-serene expression. Behind him came Scott Summers, poker-faced and rigid, wearing a black leather coat and his signature red-tinted visor. Jean Grey followed beside him, wearing a soft expression and keeping her gaze carefully neutral.
Charles gave them a polite smile. "Good afternoon, my friends. I hope we weren't too late."
"Not at all," Ritsuka replied, still watching the jet like it might fly off without warning. "So this thing flies… but do you actually have a license for it?"
Charles chuckled lightly. "Indeed we do. The Blackbird is fully sanctioned. I assure you, no legal corners were cut."
James leaned toward Ritsuka and whispered, "He answered that too fast."
Karna said nothing.
As they all stepped aboard, Ritsuka glanced one last time at the beach behind him. The waves continued to roll in, unbothered by gods, mutants, or cosmic schemes.
Inside the jet, the doors sealed shut with a hiss. The engines pulsed with energy.
Their next destination: Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
The interior of the Blackbird hummed with restrained energy as the jet soared through the sky, cutting through clouds like a blade through silk. Inside, tension mingled with curiosity.
Charles, ever the gentleman, turned to Ritsuka with an inviting smile. "I believe introductions are in order."
Ritsuka stood slightly, offering a hand in gesture. "Sure. This is James. He's… well, he's a lawyer and a mathematics professor. Weird combo, but he's good at both."
James gave a polite wave. "And I also specialize in yelling at corrupt judges and making tea without sugar."
Ritsuka gestured next to Karna. "And this is Karna. He's good at cricket."
There was a pause. Scott's brow quirked.
"Cricket?" he repeated.
Ritsuka nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, he has insane reflexes. I think he could go pro if we stayed long enough in one timeline."
Scott leaned back, crossing his arms with that permanent neutral-scowl expression he wore like second skin. "So you brought a cricket player and a lawyer for free food?"
The room tensed slightly.
"Seriously, dude," Scott went on, tone dry. "Do you just bring all your buddies to eat at our expense? You starting a sports team or a debate club?"
There was a brief silence—just long enough for the temperature in the cabin to drop.
Hakuno blinked once, then exhaled.
"That's it," she said coldly. "You'll regret not wearing your special glasses today."
Scott blinked, confused. "What?"
To everyone's shock, she reached into her jacket and pulled out—
"Is that pepper spray?" Scott barked, instantly on alert.
Ritsuka's eyes widened. 'Where the hell did she get pepper spray? I don't remember buying it! Did she… enchant it?!'
Hakuno shook the small canister with menace. "PEPPER SPRAY ATTACK—DEALT CRITICAL DAMAGE. Wanna test the effect modifier, Mr. Summers?"
Scott took a full step back, hands up like Hakuno was holding Excalibur. "Okay, okay! I get it!"
Jean immediately stepped in with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about him. He's… difficult sometimes. Don't take him too seriously."
Ritsuka laughed lightly, brushing it off. "It's fine. He actually reminded me of a close friend. Same kind of sarcasm. Just means he's alive. I don't mind it."
Charles, however, frowned. "Scott, we've talked about this."
Scott looked conflicted. "It's not that… I just don't like how he's using us—"
Before he could finish, James cut in with a smirk. "Need I remind you, you guys came knocking at my friend's door. You should be honored I'm teaching freely."
The weight of silence settled hard in the cabin.
Scott opened his mouth, closed it again, then sighed and slouched slightly in his seat.
Sensing the rising awkwardness, Ritsuka did what he always did best...change the subject, bridge the gap.
"So," he said cheerfully, "you into cars, Scott?"
Scott blinked. "Huh?"
Ritsuka smiled. "Yeah. I mean, the Blackbird is cool and all, but I miss seeing old-fashioned cars. You like any particular models?"
Scott paused… then a small, reluctant grin tugged at his face. "Well… the Dodge Viper SRT-10 is coming out this year. That thing's a beast. V10, six-speed manual. Pure American muscle."
Ritsuka's eyes lit up. "No way, that's the one with the crazy torque, right? I read about that—600 horsepower or something nuts like that."
"500, but close enough," Scott said, finally loosening up. "You'd love the Nissan 350Z too—Japanese design, perfect balance, and looks aggressive."
Soon, the two were leaning forward in their seats, listing off car specs, comparing classics like the Ford Mustang Cobra, and laughing over the impracticality of the Chevy SSR. Their bro-energy was immediate and shockingly natural.
Jean sat watching them, speechless. It was like watching a storm cloud turn into sunshine mid-sentence.
Hakuno, arms folded beside her, looked pleased. She leaned slightly toward Jean.
"Ritsuka's special ability," she said softly, "is being friendly. He accepts people. He's sociable, earnest, and reckless to a fault… but he'll always find a way to connect."
Jean smiled, tilting her head. "I see, but You two are really cute together. A girlfriend who clearly loves him and can handle his chaos and a boyfriend who'd probably fight a god if you were in danger."
Hakuno's smile faltered just slightly, her eyes lowering.
"Thanks," she said quietly. "But sometimes… I feel like I can't reach him, you know? He carries things—guilt, pain—that I can't touch. But I don't run from that helplessness. I… turn it into something real. Maybe even something strong."
Jean's expression softened as she caught the emotion in Hakuno's eyes.
She didn't press, didn't intrude.
Instead, she just placed a gentle hand on Hakuno's shoulder.
Behind them, Ritsuka and Scott were now arguing about the merits of the Mazda RX-8's rotary engine, like they'd been childhood friends for years.
The Blackbird soared on—carrying warriors, mutants, friends, and the unseen weight of coming revelations.
And somewhere in its steel belly… bonds were quietly being forged.
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[Note: This is short chapter, but I will upload long chapter tomorrow.]