[ Flashback: Eight Years Prior ]
Eight-year-old Satoru sat on the floor of Kamar-Taj's main library, surrounded by stacks of ancient books. To his Six Eyes, the room was a mess of different energy that he was still getting used to.
He was currently leafing through a book called the 'Codex Imperium'.
In his past life, he just used CE to warp space. Here, the books said he had to 'borrow' the energy from other dimensions and requires the use of a Sling Ring. It felt unnecessarily complicated.
"If I have to draw a circle in the air just to cross the room, I'm going to lose it." Satoru muttered, tossing the book onto a nearby pile.
Although he complained, Satoru wasn't blind to the perks. His own teleportation was almost instantaneous, but it was limited by his perception. The Sling Ring on the other hand, was different.
Despite the annoyance of waving his hands like he was cleaning a window, the device was a bridge. If he mastered it, he could literally step from a snowy mountain in Nepal to a sun-drenched beach in Brazil without breaking a sweat.
Still, for someone who used to be a living law of physics, having to rely on a brass trinket felt like a step backward.
He stared at his small hands. It had been eight years since he'd been reincarnated into this world. Eight years of living and learning was enough for him to spot the differences between the source of power and the mechanics of how magic worked over here. In his old life, Cursed Energy was personal, a byproduct of the soul's friction with the world. Here, the energy was a vast, external ocean. You didn't generate it, you channeled it.
It was all about debt. Borrowing power from beings like the Vishanti or the Dark Dimension and paying it back with complex gestures and mental focus.
Satoru closed his eyes, held out a palm facing upwards and manifested a small orb of Blue. A marble-sized sphere of crushing blue light appeared, distorting the air around his fingertips.
But Satoru didn't stop there. He reached out with his other hand, forming the Karana Mudra—his index and pinky fingers extended like horns, his thumb pinning down the middle and ring fingers.
In this world, the Six Eyes didn't just see energy, they saw the 'permissions' required to access it.
Using the mudra as a hook, he reached into the ambient space of the library and through a microscopic tear in the fabric of reality to grab a handful of energy from the Dimension of Balthakk.
The spell he had just read about in 'The Book of the Five' was meant to create a discharge of mystical lightning. Instead, Satoru forced that jagged electric energy into the center of his Blue.
He wasn't just pulling space together anymore; he was electrifying the very concept of 'space'.
The sphere of blue light didn't just stay a sphere. It began to spark similar colored arcs and because it formed into a different technique entirely as it isn't just Blue and not just a spell of Balthakk, two rings made of runic symbols began to rotate and intertwine around it.
The logic was simple to him: if Blue was the 'negative' space that pulled the world in, the Bolts of Balthakk acted as a corrosive agent within that pull. By incorporating borrowed energy, he didn't have to burn through his own limited physical stamina to achieve massive output. He was essentially using his Cursed Technique as a refined engine, but fueling it with the infinite gasoline of a dimension.
The bookshelves around him began to rattle. The concentrated gravity and the mystical lightning started to eat at the air, creating a small, localized storm in his palms.
"I see you've achieved mixing oil and water, Satoru."
The Ancient One stood in the archway, her hands tucked into her sleeves. She wasn't looking at the book he'd thrown; she was looking at the product of his own doing in amazement.
"Oil and water can mix if you stir them fast enough," Satoru replied, not breaking his focus. "The magic here is too… reliant on the concept of 'borrowing'. I'm merely adding my own flavor into it."
"And in doing so, you are rewriting the technique," she noted, stepping closer. She didn't look worried about the library collapsing. "Most spend their lives trying to master the 'Arts' as they were written. You are treating the fundamental laws of the multiverse as a nuance."
Satoru let the energy dissipate, the ringing in the room fading instantly. He looked up at her with his baby blue eyes uncovered.
"Everything's a nuance," Satoru said. "The books say the universe is a temple. I think it's more like a puzzle. If I don't like where a piece fits, I'll just shave the edges off."
The Ancient One sat down on a low wooden stool. She didn't scold him for his arrogance; she had lived long enough to know that for Satoru, it wasn't arrogance, he was simply Satoru.
"The danger of shaving those edges, Satoru, is that eventually, the picture no longer makes sense," she said softly. "You are not just a student of the Mystic Arts. You are a bridge between two sets of laws. One that belongs to your soul, and one that belongs to this soil."
"Is that why you let me stay?" Satoru asked, tilting his head. "Because I'm a 'bridge'? Or because you're curious to see how my existence will turn out?"
"Both," she admitted with a faint smile. "But mostly because I see a man who is trying to find a home in a world that operates on debt. You do not like to owe, do you?"
Satoru let out a huff, looking back at his hands. "I spent my last life being a pillar of strength. Everyone owed me their lives, and I owed them my existence, it was exhausting. If I'm going to use this... magic... I want it to be mine. Not the Vishanti's, not yours. Mine."
"Then you must understand the 'why' before the 'how,'" she said, gesturing to the 'Codex Imperium' he had tossed aside. "You can fuel your engine with the Multiverse, Satoru. But without a destination, you are just walking the same path as your last life. Tell me, in all your 'hacking' of our laws, have you found what you are looking for?"
Satoru remained silent for a moment, his eyes drifting to the window where the snowy peaks of the Himalayas were visible.
"No, I haven't." he muttered such simple words, but the Ancient One could feel the sadness and emptiness within them.
The Ancient One reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. "In this world, Satoru, strength is boundless, it is not a seat you sit on alone. There are others, there are stones, and gods, and men who play at being both. If you want to find that peace, you must first learn to be a part of the world, not just a witness to it."
She stood up, her robes rustling. "Keep your 'flavor,' Satoru. But try not to burn the library down. Master Hamir is very fond of those shelves."
"Hmm," Satoru simply nodded in response.
As she walked away, Satoru looked back at his palm. He watched the way the sunlight caught the motes of dust in the air, thinking about what she said.
'A part of the world, huh?'
...
[Author's Notes]: This chapter might be boring to some, but it was necessary. I wanted to show that Satoru isn't just learning the Mystic Arts the normal way, he's trying to fuse the laws of his old world with this one while still figuring out where he belongs in all of it. This particular chapter is less about action and more about the foundation of the whole fic to establish a more solid foundation moving forward.
If you know, you know. Hope you don't mind.
If it's any comfort to those who felt disappointed, I'll be dropping chapter 9 in a few hours as well.