At Tokyo. Kasumigaseki.

  In a conference room buried deep underground, sealed behind steel blast doors thick enough to stop a tank shell, the air was stagnant. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a sickly, pallor wash over the faces of everyone present. They looked less like the leaders of a nation and more like patients in a terminal ward. On the wall-to-wall monitors, a single feed played on a loop.

  [Live: Higher Being From Isekai World]

  In the cold glow of the screens, a man in a trench coat was laughing. His lips curled, revealing teeth that seemed too white, too sharp. His eyes didn't look at the camera lens; they seemed to look through the glass, directly at the men sitting in their expensive suits.

  He is mocking us. Everyone was silent. The ticking of the analog clock on the wall sounded unnaturally loud. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Like a countdown. The low hum of the industrial air conditioning drifted heavily through the room, a deep vibration that felt like the breathing of the earth itself.

  Only three hours had passed since the stream began. It had already gone viral. "Viral" was too small a word. It is like a pandemic of information. Social media trends were burning up worldwide. The server was on the verge of crashing.

  "Live Commentary from an Otherworldly God." Just that phrase was enough to shake the foundations of communication networks across the globe.

  “…So, about this… what was it? Ex…pecto Patro…num?” The Minister, seated at the center of the long table, broke the silence abruptly. He pushed up his glasses with a hand that trembled slightly. He let out a sound that was half-sigh, half-bitter laugh.

  “Time Patrol, Minister.” The bureaucrat next to him corrected with a sigh mixed with high-tension irritation. He didn't look up from his tablet.

  “Right. Time Patrol. How credible is the content this guy is streaming on EWS?” The Minister asked.

  “It aligns perfectly with the concerns we had during the initial development of EWS, and matches the worst-case simulations.” A calm voice responded from the end of the table. Mamiya Kaori. The woman from the EWS development team. One of the original members. Her back was straight, rigid. She showed no sign of fatigue, only the steely resolve of someone who had been carrying a ticking bomb in her pocket for years.

  “Hmm. Can you explain it one more time?” At the Minister's question, Mamiya nodded quietly.

  “Until now, there has been an entity appearing frequently on the other side. We call it the ‘Threat’. Unlike magical beasts, we recognized it not as an organism, but as the will of the other world—or rather, a manifestation of the world's automated defense mechanism. Like an antibody.” She stood up, her shadow stretching across the table. Pointing at the monitor with a laser pointer, she spoke in a controlled, measured tone.

  The air in the conference room wavered slightly. At the word “defense mechanism,” several bureaucrats glanced at each other, unease rippling through them.

  “Was that a result of our observation?” The bureaucrat asked.

  “No. It was knowledge brought by the Returnee. That is why we established a method of ‘peeking’ into the other world remotely, rather than physically crossing over.” Mamiya answered, they carried the weight of history. She knew the dangers of “crossing” all too well.

  “Are you saying that as a result of repelling that Threat multiple times in some form… an individual capable of communication has evolved?” Another official asked a question from across the table.

  “Yes. However, it is unprecedented for them to hijack EWS and start streaming back at us.” Mamiya's voice trembled slightly. The “thing” laughing on the other side of the screen was no longer just a monster or a storm. It was an intelligence, looking here, recognizing Earth.

  “Were there secret streams or contacts in the form of warnings in the past?” A bureaucrat pulled out a chair, the screech of legs on linoleum sounding like a scream. He flipped through a stack of gathered documents.

  “No such records could be confirmed. This is the first contact.” She answered while looking over the documents.

  “…So, the hypothesis is that there is a person from this world who crossed over to the other side in some way.” The Minister crossed his arms again, sinking deeper into his chair. He laughed cynically and muttered low.

  “Yes. As a result of that person—and Claval—crossing boundaries repeatedly, the connection has strengthened. The two worlds have approached each other spatiotemporally. Like two planets drifting into the same orbit.”

  Everyone was beginning to step into a realm that politics and physics could not explain.

  “Is it credible? Isn't it a fake? Anyone can say anything on a screen, right? Deepfakes, AI…” The bureaucrat said with a laugh, but it was dry as dust.

  “It is not impossible to fake. But if the ‘point of impact’ between the two worlds is bad…” Mamiya lowered her gaze slightly. “A head-on collision will occur. It means a release of energy equivalent to pair annihilation.” She looked up, staring directly at the Minister.

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  Everyone understood the word, disaster, the End.

  “So you are claiming that even if we do something about those two individuals… the collision won't stop anymore?” Another official asked.

  Quiet despair drifted through the room. Not even the sound of turning pages echoed among the bureaucrats anymore.

  “It is no longer a problem that politics can solve.” They were just men in suits, realizing their power meant nothing against the mechanics of the universe.

  “Isn't it the job of politics to prevent panic?” Irritation seeped into the Minister's voice. But in his eyes, raw, primal fear was visible.

  “Perhaps… he might be streaming to the people or organizations that can do something about it. A plea. Or a challenge.” Mamiya paused for a breath before speaking.

  “What do you mean?” The bureaucrat frowned.

  “…That sounds occult.” The Minister interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. The fact that such a word came out of his mouth was proof that logic had already collapsed.

  “Then, Minister… how should we handle the regular press conference in an hour?” The bureaucrat's voice trembled.

  “Cut it off. Deny everything. That is all.” The Minister narrowed his eyes slightly. He spat out the words like poison.

  At that moment— The light from the monitor flickered violently.Zzzzt. On the screen, the man in the trench coat stopped laughing. He leaned forward. And for a split second, he seemed to look right at them.

  ?

  At The Residential Area.

  Night had fallen. The neighborhood was silent, as if the bustle of the day had been a lie. The TV in the living room was airing a special news program. The volume was muted, but the chyron scrolled endlessly in bold red letters. The newscaster’s face was pale, a slight tremor visible at the edge of his jaw.

  [Concurrent Viewers for the Otherworldly Higher Being Channel Have Surpassed 100 Million]

  In Yu's house, the fluorescent light seeped softly into the beige wallpaper. Father. Mother. And Yu. The three of them sat in a triangle. The dinner dishes had been cleared away. Three cups of tea sat on the table, the steam long gone, the liquid lukewarm.

  In the outside world, emergency meetings were being held in every country. Governments were scrambling. Generals were shouting. But here—behind the scenes where the fate of the world was being discussed—a single "Family Meeting" was quietly about to begin.

  A subtle silence hung between the three of them. The only sounds were the hum of the refrigerator motor and the friction of tires from a car passing outside. Whoosh. His mother's fingertips traced the rim of her teacup. Round and round. Yu watched the movement blankly, hypnotized.

  “I heard most of it from mom.” His father slowly opened his mouth.

  “I didn't think you were running with a bad crowd… but I never imagined you were getting into trouble in another world.” His father's voice was heavy, but calm.

  Yu looked up involuntarily. There was no scolding in his father's voice. No anger. It was closer to a bitter smile. A complex tone, hovering between fatherly exasperation and sheer disbelief.

  “Getting into trouble…” Yu protested weakly. But his voice was faint. It sounded more like embarrassment than a rebuttal. Put that way, it sounded like he’d broken a school window, not the laws of physics.

  “I saw the EWS stream too. That crazy guy in the coat. Is what he's saying true? About the worlds colliding?” His father leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “He told me the same thing. I think it's true.” Yu answered with his head down. His eyes looked somewhere far away—past the table, past the wall. The sensation of being over there—the smell of the air, the weight of the mana—still lingered deep in his body.

  “…Hmm.” His father groaned shortly. His expression wasn't stern. It was purely the face of someone thinking. A man who had lived as a salaryman for years, measuring the world only in sales numbers and quarterly reports, was facing an "inexplicable event in reality" for the first time. And he wasn't rejecting it. He was processing it.

  In the silence, his mother interjected softly.

  “Darling?” Her voice was mixed with anxiety and kindness.

  “…Judging by his tone, even if it is true, the limit isn't right now. It's not today or tomorrow.” His father exhaled a small breath and looked up. As if trying to regain his composure.

  “What do you mean?” His mother's voice trembled.

  “Yu. You have something in mind, don't you? Say it.” His father looked slowly at Yu. In the depths of his tired eyes, a faint light of resolve ignited. It was the look of a man who had solved a difficult equation.

  “If I'm over there… I think I can tell when ‘that time’ comes. I can feel the connection.” Yu hesitated for a moment. “So, when it happens…” He licked his dry lips. Then he answered. “I'll dodge it with [Bind.]” Yu looked straight into his father's eyes.

  “Yu? Can you explain that so your mother can understand? Dodge… the world?” At those words, his mother's eyes widened.

  “It’s hard to explain. It’s like… grabbing the space and moving it before it hits.” Yu looked down, intertwining his fingers. Even if he tried to explain, the logic wouldn't translate into real words.

  “I see… You're shifting the coordinates for an instant before the concept of mass exists.” His father who broke the silence.

  “Hey, wait a minute, Darling??” His mother looked at her husband, exasperated. His tone wasn't a father's anymore; it was a researcher's. Yu had heard that his father was originally from a science background before entering the corporate world, but Yu himself couldn't keep up with the speed of his understanding.

  His father closed his eyes for a few seconds. He ran the simulation in his head. He calculated the odds. He realized his own helplessness.

  “Alright! I understand perfectly that there's absolutely nothing I can do from here! Mother, get ready! We're going out!” Then, he stood up abruptly. The chair scraped loudly against the floor.

  “Darling!?” “Dad!?” Yu and his mother raised their voices at the same time. His father grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the chair, throwing it over his shoulder like a cape.

  “Yu. There's someone you want us to meet, right?” He raised his voice, a grin spreading across his face.

  “…Huh?” At the sudden words, Yu blanked out for a moment.

  “Come on, Mom! Pack your bags! It's a family trip!” His father laughed. “Destination another World!” It was a bright, fearless sound that blew away the heavy atmosphere of the room.