(alternative title: cursed seals and absent coffee)
You know what's worse than being dead?Being half-dead.With back pain.No coffee.No savings.And holding a cursed notebook that basically screams you're the missing piece in a cosmic puzzle even the gods are afraid to finish.
Hi.My name is Renji Kurogane.And if you're reading this expecting prophecies, noble heroes, or sparkles on my face like some hormonal superhero movie…Close the book. Throw it in the fire. Now.
This is not a pretty tale.It's not epic in the classic sense.It's more like a classified file stained with coffee, dried blood, and frantic notes scribbled by someone who knows tomorrow might be a functional corpse.
I used to be a cop.And yeah, one of the good ones. The kind that reads between the lines, sniffs around where they shouldn't, and ends up discovering things that scream:"DO NOT TOUCH – PROPERTY OF THE ABYSS."
One day I saw what I wasn't supposed to.Archaic symbols carved into a corpse.Dead languages written in blood that even Google Translate refused to touch.And men in suits who didn't show up on any cameras.
What did I do?What any idiot with a moral compass would do:I reported it.I documented it.Wrote 67 pages. With footnotes. And annexes.
And what did they do?They suspended me.Politely invited me to "resign with dignity."Then erased me from the system like I'd never worn a badge.
So I became an archaeologist.Because if you're going to chase bodies with cursed symbols, you might as well do it legally.I studied symbology, ancient history, dead languages, and collected more degrees than an Instagram life coach.
But not even a million diplomas could erase what I'd seen.Civilization after civilization.Myth after myth.All of them repeating the same 12 symbols.
And among them, hidden like a typo... one name always showed up:Senku.
Everything changed on a Tuesday.At 3:33 a.m.Because of course, if destiny is going to knock, it'll do it when even insomnia is afraid.
I went down for coffee.My mailbox was open.Inside: an envelope with no sender, wrapped in old leather, sealed with black wax.
I opened it. Obviously.Inside: a notebook so ancient it creaked when it breathed.Brown ink. Pages that seemed to have their own respiratory system.
And on the first page, written in the handwriting of a stylish sociopath:"Don't open this if you want to keep believing in official history."
Naturally, I opened it.Obviously.
What I found wasn't just strange.It was too coherent to be legal.
Drawings that didn't fit any historical period.Symbols I had personally documented…...on three corpses....on three continents....in three different decades.
At the center of the notebook: a map.Not of continents.Of constellations.
Lines that sliced through time like badly stitched fabric.And in the middle of those lines…A single name, underlined in red:Senku.
Since I opened that notebook, the world began to glitch.
My phone died.Lights flickered.My reflection in the mirror moved with delay.(Worse: it had the face of someone who "knows something you don't.")
And the dreams…I dreamed of eyes floating in darkness.Pyramids buried on alien planets.A red heart trapped in black crystal.
And a voice.Not loud.Not demonic.Just… inevitable.
"Renji…"
I woke up with a dry throat,hands stained,and the feeling that something inside me was waking up too.
The notebook included a plane ticket.Destination: Cairo.And on the last page, written in what looked like ink……or an existential warning from the universe itself:
"It all begins in Egypt.What you're looking for… is already looking for you."
Should I have said no?Obviously.Did I say no?Of course not.
Because there's something stronger than fear:The need to understand why the hell my name appears in rituals from ten thousand years ago.
And that's how it started.With a notebook.A symbol.And a name that keeps echoing in my nightmares like an apocalyptic chorus:
Senku.
I didn't know what it was.Or who.Or why it was following me even in dreams.
I only knew one thing:Something ancient has awakened…and it wants to find me.