In a certain location, hidden away from the rest of the world, an elderly man sat in a room, surrounded by lavish furniture. It was hardly grand, like one would expect to see if they knew the man, but it was luxurious enough. Soft red walls decorated the background, filled with portraits of various scenes: the battle between King Arthur and Mordred, Gilgamesh of Urk battling Enkidu for the first time, Asterious battling Theseus—there were many. A lofty couch was seated in front of a round table, which held but one item: a crystal ball that seemingly floated above it. Within this ball was a myriad of swirling colors.
"Hm...seems like the young Haru is doing nicely." the room's occupant chuckled, stroking his beard. "Though I didn't think he'd summon Altera of all people. Hoh, the boy's got his work cut out for him! Especially with what he's gotten himself into." A curious smile formed across his face as he waved a hand over the ball. Inside, the colors twisted about, swirling and shifting into new, more darker and vibrant shades. "Now, what about this world...?"
He leaned in to inspect the sight shown in the ball. His expression reflected his sparked intrigue. "Oho… what's this now? He doesn't have Boosted Gear...but something else entirely." One could hear the mirth in his voice. "And to think it is THAT of all things..."
Slowly, a wide grin spread across his face. "Hehehe… how interesting." The man dug into his robes, shifting through it before pulling out a black slate, bound in leather. "Well, if his fate is to meet with Devils… I suppose I can change it just this once." A chuckle escaped his old throat, eyes curious about what was to come. "I can't help but wonder who Haru calls on first. If I were a betting man..."
In Haru's dreams, he thought naught of erotic sights as he believed. Instead, he dreamed of a single space. A platform with stained glass below him, depicting a stylized sigil resembling the snarling head of a dragon. Pristine white steps, which hovered in the air, spread out towards somewhere unseen—far away from his field of vision.
"What?" Haru questioned, confused as he looked around. "Where is this?"
This was weird. It was like he was in some sort of pocket dimension like in anime. As a matter of fact, this one reminded him of the Kingdom Hearts series with a person's Heart. But somehow… it was really different. He looked around and saw no other pathway aside from the steps.
"So weird… wait, why am I even dreaming of something like this?" Haru frowned and folded his arms. "Ugh, and after all the crap I went through with Kaichou..."
A cool, gentle breeze danced past him. From behind, a white shape danced past him. "Eh?" Blinking, his eyes trailed on the shape as it danced around. It was hard to tell what it looked like. At first, it looked like a bird of some kind. Then, as he looked more closely, it resembled some kind of wolf. However, the brightness of the light that cloaked it made it hard to determine what he was seeing. "What is that thing?" The shape craned what might have been its head, looking at him before taking high into the air, heading in the same direction the steps lead to. "Is it… asking me to follow?"
With nothing better to do, and wanting to get this dream done and over with, Haru followed. The platform beneath his feet let out soft cracks. Bits and pieces of the surface broke apart, dissolving into light while leaving behind the shape of his footprints. However, they soon expanded and began to break away the rest of the platform's surface—wiping away the image.
The red head didn't notice it, however. He continued to walk forward, soft echoes dancing in the air each time his foot fell gently on the steps. As he made his way up to wherever it led him, he found faint, glowing streams flowing around him. Some were blue, others were red. The rest were of different colors: purple, green, violet, aqua, cyan, orange, white, burgundy… it was an endless spectrum.
"So weird..." Haru mumbled to himself. "Am I seriously that tired to dream up something like this?"
Despite his questioning, he did not dislike the view he was seeing. Rather, it was quite mesmerizing and brought a sense of peace to him. Before he realized it, he already made it to the top of the steps. Another platform spread out before him. Like the previous platform, it depicted an image. More specifically, it showed nine individuals, each held by what appeared to be some kind of card.
The first showed a warrior clad in armor, sword in hand.
The second showed a woman in a red skirt, a hand knocking back an arrow ready to be set free.
The third showed a man wearing a wide-brim hat with a feather, a spear at his side.
The fourth showed an armored man, pulling the reins to the chariot he rode upon.
The fifth showed an old hermit, garbed in robes with a book in one hand, and a staff in the other.
The sixth showed a pale-skimmed man wearing a skull for a mask, wielding a sharp dagger.
The seventh showed a mad creature of some sort, wielding a giant sword.
The eighth showed a figure bound in chains with a piercing eye glaring out beneath their long hair.
The ninth showed a beautiful holy maiden with long hair, carrying both a sword and a scale.
In the very center of this platform stood a gate. It held no single color—instead, it constantly shifted between different colors. It was as if the door itself was made of color, yet never remaining the same for long. The gate stood as large as Kuoh Academy itself in terms of height, yet remained as narrow as a standard double-door. Standing guard on either side of the gate were sentinels of sorts—each bearing a resemblance to the individuals depicted in the cards on the platform.
The saber held a hand against the frame of the door while the hand wielding its sword was sheathed in the ground. The lancer stood behind him, leaning against it with the spear against his shoulder and arms folded. The archer sat atop the gate, one knee at her chest with her bow at her back. The caster faced the gate's frame while his hood obscured his face. The berserker's head rested against it, towering over the robed magician. The assassin sat together with the archer, cradling his knife in his palm. The rider, like the saber, kneeled before the gate with a palm against its frame.
On the gate's doors were the last two—the avenger carved on the left door, bound to the frame while their hand touched together with that of the ruler's own, who smiled kindly while weighing her scales.
"... whoa..." It was the only thing that could escape Haru's mouth as he took in the grand sight before him. He had no idea what he was dreaming… but for some reason… he wanted to engrave this into his memory.
"Dunno how I dreamed this up...but damn is it awesome." He then found the white shape, which sat in front of the gate. "Hey, you. Uh… white thing. Did you bring me here to see this?"
The shape gave no sound. It merely tilted what he assumed was its head. He swore he saw what might have been a "smile" beneath the light covering it before it faded away into motes of white light, dissipating and leaving him where he stood. Haru was thoroughly confused, but as it was a dream, perhaps it was fine.
Even still… the gate was so strange. It could have been his imagination, but he felt something about it calling to him. Gulping down a nervous lump, he stepped forward. Slowly, his hand touched its doors.
Then, suddenly, he felt it.
*babump*
*babump*
Are these… heartbeats? he wondered, recognizing the sounds echoing in his ears. He closed his eyes, hearing the same sounds play over and over again like drum beats. Each pulsing beat was different than the last, which created an even grander symphony. So weird… are they all from inside?
Leaning in, he pressed his ear against the gate to find an answer. A moment later, he did. The sounds of the heart beats became even louder than they were previously, meaning they originated past these doors.
Of course, that brought about a question:
How could he be hearing so many heartbeats from those inside it? Just as he was about to open the door, a voice echoed in the air.
"Silver and gemstone line the path. They forge the circle of the pact—calling to spirits of myth and legend to partake in the communion of battle."
Stepping back in shock, Haru looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. "Hello?" he called. "Is anyone there?!"
"Desires, ideals, ambitions… they become the core of the chant. The heroes of yore answer the call, vacating their thrones."
"H-hey... Who are you?!"
"Fill and shut. Fill and shut. Fill and shut. Fill and shut. Fill and shut. The filling of thy cup continues until it breaks. The cycle repeats until power is made manifest."
Haru was starting to grow more and more unnerved. "O-okay, me… you can wake up anytime now!" he begged his real self, fast asleep on the couch in the living room. "Seriously! This dream is starting to turn bad!"
"Warriors of the sword, bow, and lance. Heroes of the chariot, tome and dagger. Legends of vengeance, madness and forgiveness. Together, they swirl at the center. O soul who weaves together the arcane—holder of all that creates and destroys… answer."
Suddenly, Haru's chest tightened. His heart rammed against his chest. His lungs strained for oxygen. His body felt as if it were on fire.
"Wh...i...t...u...eek...obt...w...h...e...w...o...eg...s?"
The pain increased tenfold. He reared his head back, opening his mouth to scream.