A sharp beam of light filtered through the golden haze, stinging Satoru's closed eyelids until they fluttered open. The air was thick with heat, and the sky above gleamed a soft amber. Slowly, he rose from the hard, cracked earth. The field that stretched before him seemed infinite, painted in hues of golden wheat swaying rhythmically in a phantom wind.
Satoru blinked against the brightness, his sharp blue eyes adjusting quickly. A faint pulse of awareness surged through him. Information flooded in, sensory data aligning with pinpoint accuracy. "I should check my appearance. Haven't seen what form I took in this world," he thought, flicking open his Pocket.
Reflected on the digital surface was a young boy—no older than fourteen. Snow-white hair framed his angular face, and beneath a fringe of silver strands glowed his renowned azure eyes. His black t-shirt, torn at the shoulder and frayed along the spine from his encounter with the Divine Fish, hung loosely over black pants and combat boots caked with dust. Though outwardly calm, his heart throbbed with silent energy.Unkownst to anyone above his chest glimmered the faintest outline of a dragon's face, etched like a whisper into his skin. Above his head, the infinity symbol blinked softly, pulsing once before vanishing.
He turned his gaze across the horizon, absorbing the layout—crumbling ruins in the far west, forested gorges to the north, and a distant lake boiling with steam to the south. This was Evankhell's Floor.
"Looks like the Second Floor," he murmured. "Time to ascend."Tying his eyes with the patch of his shirt,
He moved deliberately, guided by an instinctive awareness of spiritual signatures. Life pulsed faintly in the distance.
Then, a shrill buzz cracked through the air.
Whrrr. Whrrr. Buzz.
"[Mic test! Mic test! One, two, three! Hello everyone!]"
He looked skyward. A golden Lighthouse hovered above, its lens aimed down at the terrain like the eye of a god.
"[Welcome to Evankhell's Floor! This is your first true test. The rules are simple: Out of 400 Regulars, only 200 may remain. Eliminate others by any means necessary. The clock starts now!]"
No sooner had the words finished echoing than the field erupted into chaos.
Satoru stood still for a moment as the cries of battle surged around him. Figures dashed in the tall wheat, blood sprayed in arcs, and explosions rocked the earth beneath his feet. A sudden spike of killing intent flared behind him.
He didn't turn. His hand flicked casually behind him.
"Dismantle."
A blur of motion—a man lunging with a barbed spear—was halted mid-air. In an instant, his torso was sheared in half, cleaved through by an invisible force. The body fell in silence, evaporating into particles.
Satoru exhaled. The weight of reality sank into his bones. This world wasn't one for hesitation.
With a hardened expression, he moved.
The first enemy was a beast. Six-legged and covered in emerald chitin, it burst from the underbrush, mandibles screeching. Satoru leapt, twisting mid-air. A sharp strike of his heel shattered its forelimb. As it screamed, he landed, ducked a swipe, and swept his palm across its underbelly.
"Dismantle."
A horizontal gash tore across its thorax. The creature screeched before collapsing, gurgling acidic ichor.
No time to rest.
A human with glowing gauntlets barreled toward him, fists like meteorites. The first punch missed by inches. The second grazed his cheek, but Satoru grinned. Twisting beneath the follow-up, he delivered a bone-crushing uppercut. As the enemy stumbled back, Satoru's hand flicked forward.
"Dismantle."
The gauntlets exploded off the man's arms, the recoil sending him flying into a nearby boulder. He didn't rise.
And so the slaughter continued.
Creatures lunged, fangs bared, claws slicing the air. Some looked stitched together from the corpses of other beasts, each limb mismatched but deadly. Vines with eyes, wolves of shadow, floating jellyfish-like constructs that fired plasma blasts. One scorched Satoru's sleeve; another grazed his ribs. He responded with fluid combinations of taijutsu and shinsu manipulation, every movement a work of brutal efficiency.
Blood—red, green, blue—coated his clothes.
He disarmed a plant-like humanoid with serrated vines by burning the flora mid-strike using a controlled kinetic burst. He elbowed a camouflaged snake-beast as it lunged from the wheat, stomping its skull into the soil. He dismantled a leaping chimera mid-air, reducing it to shimmering dust.
Time blurred.
By the time he took down a sniper positioned behind the ruins, Satoru paused, breathing steady but eyes sharp. The man's uniform fit his build. He swapped his bloodied outfit for a white shirt and black pants. His reflection in the sniper's broken scope revealed a predator cloaked in serenity.
Then came the second announcement.
"[Ahem! The first test is over! All remaining Regulars, stop immediately. Any fighting from this point will result in disqualification.]"
A lull fell.
"[Congratulations to the survivors. Your next task is to form a team of three. You have five minutes. To register a team, all members must be in physical contact when time ends. Good luck!]"
Satoru closed his eyes, steadying his breath. First time I've taken lives, he thought. But his mind was eerily quiet.
Opening his eyes, a grin spread across his blood-smeared face.
"Let's find some teammates."
He sprinted through the fields, moving with supernatural speed. His senses locked onto voices—an argument.
Two figures, one red-haired and volatile, the other pale and composed, were bickering near the edge of a rock face.
Satoru descended like a meteor.
Crash!Boom!Boom!
"Ouch!That hurt fucker! The fuck did you come from?!" the red-haired man cursed as they tumbled to the ground.
Satoru stood, brushing imaginary dust from his shirt. His grin returned.
One had dark some what spiky hair parted at the front through the middle with olive-green eyes. He radiated calm calculation, though suspicion lingered behind his gaze. The redhead was the opposite—brash, scowling, waving a blood-red spear with reckless flair.
They eyed him.
"Who the hell is this blind idiot?" thought, Sauron annoyed.
"I didn't even see him approach..." Chrollo noted warily.
With time ticking, Satoru broke the silence.
"We seem like a good team," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Gojo Satoru. What do you say?"
Sauron snorted. "You're too damn cheerful."
Chrollo raised a brow, then shrugged.
They each placed a hand over his.
"Chrollo Lucifer," the calm one said.
"Sauron". Remember it—I'll be the strongest in this tower!" the redhead declared, flourishing his spear.
Satoru laughed. "Now that sounds fun."
The timer struck zero.
A burst of light enveloped them, and the trio vanished from the field, their journey to the top just beginning.