Shinji stood in this familiar yet unfamiliar "home," staring at the faces in the photos that were both familiar and strange to him.
Suddenly, a strong sense of detachment washed over him.
He was both Shinji, the Studio boss, carrying the past, debts, and interpersonal relationships of this world;
and he was also that office worker Shinji, bearing the Remembrance and knowledge of another world.
And the story of Honkai was about to become the fulcrum connecting these two identities, a lever to shape this world.
He walked to the window and pushed open the dusty casement.
The night breeze, carrying faint sounds of the city from below, swept away the stale air in the room.
Tomorrow, the work would officially begin.
He needed to flesh out more detailed plot points and plan the framework for the next game.
He also had to deal with… those "old acquaintances" who had suddenly appeared, and the subtly shifting emotions of his companions.
After tidying up in a rush—though there wasn't much to tidy, only some dusting—he dug out a clean set of bed sheets and a quilt cover from the depths of the wardrobe and replaced the old ones.
He then took a quick shower to wash away his exhaustion and lay down on the long-lost, slightly stiff single bed.
The dual fatigue of body and mind submerged Shinji like a rising tide.
The distant clamor of the city drifted faintly through the window, yet it felt far away, almost unreal.
His consciousness sank, slipping into darkness.
Then, without warning, the dream descended.
It was not fragmented, nor were the images jumping about—it was an incredibly clear, immersive experience.
He felt himself floating in an endless, phantasmagorical void.
Around him, it was not darkness but an "ocean" flowing with countless colors.
Sometimes, the colors gathered into a brilliance like a galaxy; sometimes, they shattered into pixel-like dust.
Massive shadows slowly cruised through the depths of this "Sea," sending out ripples that made his heart race.
The Sea of Quanta.
The term naturally surfaced in his consciousness within the dream.
Was he currently on a… warship?
No—it felt more like the interior of some enormous construct.
He couldn't understand it, yet it felt inexplicably familiar. The bridge was vast, and he himself was "standing" there.
He was neither that office worker Shinji nor the Studio boss stressed over bankruptcy.
Shinji wore a crisp captain's uniform, with insignia on his epaulets that he didn't recognize.
His posture was upright, his gaze sharp and scanning the front.
He was… the Captain of the Hyperion.
Remembrance surged in like a tide—not the Remembrance of this world,
but fragments of the memories of that Captain who traversed countless World Bubbles, leading companions to explore the unknown and seek answers.
Adventure. An endless adventure.
To save the World Bubbles that were sinking into the Sea of Quanta, being eroded, or falling into other crises.
And also… to understand why he repeatedly stepped into the Sea of Quanta, why he had to shoulder this immense responsibility.
Consciousness mapping appeared in Shinji's Remembrance.
He projected his consciousness into different World Bubbles, experiencing different identities and lives.
He "saw"…
A young girl in robes, holding a feather fan, leaning against a railing.
Stargazer—she seemed to be waiting for something.
And a figure dancing alone.
Her movements were light; every leap carried lethal elegance and a lingering, inescapable loneliness.
Luna. Why was she dancing?
And for whom was she dancing?
More blurred figures flickered at the edges of light and shadow.
Some familiar, some unfamiliar—all carrying profound emotional imprints.
He was not a bystander. He was the person projecting his consciousness repeatedly—the "Captain" who met them, fought alongside them, or brushed past them.
He could feel the tearing sensation when passing through the barrier of a World Bubble.
He could also experience the chaos of switching between different identities.
But to save the worlds in the Sea, and to understand why he wandered,
this thought illuminated the path forward for him—the Captain in the dream.
It also illuminated the depths of Shinji's consciousness, immersed in the dream at this moment.
Who was he?
Was he that office worker Shinji?
Was he the game Studio boss struggling to survive?
Or was he this Hyperion Captain wandering in the Sea of Quanta?
Or perhaps… all three at once?
The dream began to shake violently.
"Ring-ring—!!!"
The jarring sound of his alarm clock from the real world violently dragged Shinji back to reality.
He opened his eyes, heart pounding wildly, cold sweat on his forehead.
Before him was the familiar low ceiling; morning light filtered in through the gap in the curtains.
The figures from the dream, whether clear or blurred… everything faded rapidly.
Leaving only a strong sense of exhaustion, as if he had just returned from a long journey.
Shinji sat up and rubbed his throbbing temples.
Regardless of which identity it was, that dream—and the perspective and experiences of that "Captain"—left him with a strange sensation.
Especially the part about saving worlds in the Sea, and understanding why he wandered—
that thought, like a seed, had fallen into the soil of Shinji's reality.
To save this Studio on the verge of bankruptcy, to give birth to the story of Honkai in this world,
and to figure out why he transmigrated, why he must recreate these stories here…
Shinji shook his head, temporarily suppressing these thoughts.
The most urgent task was reality.
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