Honkai impact 3rd: [The Mission - System]

Ayin sat alone on one of the benches, the weight of the night pressing down on him. The beach was quieter now, the waves crashing softly against the shore, a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded earlier. His body ached with every small movement, the pain from the dump truck's impact still fresh, lingering in every muscle and bone.

Moments ago, the group of guys had insisted on helping him get to the hospital, worried about the state he was in. But Ayin had refused, managing a weak smile as he lied through his teeth.

"My house isn't far from here," he had said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I left my wallet at home."

The lie was obvious, and he could see it in their eyes, they knew he wasn't telling the truth about the wallet. Still, they were uncertain if his house really was near, and after a moment of hesitation, they decided to leave him be.

"Take care of yourself, man," one of them had said, his tone still laced with concern before they walked off into the distance, leaving Ayin alone with nothing but the quiet hum of the night.

Now, sitting there, Ayin let out a long, slow breath. The pain was sharper now that he had the time to actually feel it. Every part of his body felt like it was on fire, especially his right side, where the impact had been most brutal.

He shifted slightly, wincing as the ache in his ribs and shoulder flared up again. The truck had hit him hard, but as he carefully ran his fingers over his side, he found a small bit of relief.

Luckily, the damage to his right side wasn't as severe as it had felt. There were bruises, yes, and his shoulder was sore, but nothing felt like it was broken. No deep cuts or fractures that would leave him immobile for too long. His ribs ached, but nothing was cracked, at least from what he could tell.

He sighed in relief, though his mind still raced with the shock of everything.

As Ayin sat still on the bench, trying to ignore the constant ache in his body. The sand was cool against the back of his legs, the breeze ruffling his hair, and the sound of the waves crashing seemed to steady his thoughts. His body, stiff and sore from the impact, urged him to relax. Slowly, he did, easing into the bench, his mind now trying to process everything.

He was in Nagazora, of all places.

The name kept echoing in his mind, but it felt impossible. How could he be here, in a city from the game Honkai Impact 3rd? His fingers ran over his bruised arm as his mind drifted back to the game. He'd only recently started playing, barely scratching the surface of Chapter 2. He remembered the first few missions, the introduction to the characters.

A small sigh escaped him as he turned his head to the horizon, staring at the night sky now lit up with city lights. "I shouldn't even be alive after that hit… Maybe this is some kind of dream," he thought, but deep down, it didn't feel like one.

He just couldn't shake the feeling that, somehow, he was exactly where he needed to be.

Ayin continued to sit on the bench, his body sore but still functioning, as his mind raced with thoughts.

"Chapter 2," he muttered, reflecting on his progress in the game. "Only just getting to know the characters... Still haven't unlocked half of them yet. And there's still so much I don't know about the Honkai."

His gaze drifted out toward the ocean, the quiet waves lapping against the shore. The cool night air made his skin prickle, but his thoughts were far from the calm scenery before him.

"But how am I even alive right now?" he thought to himself, his brow furrowing. The truck had hit him with full force, and yet here he was. No way he should have made it out of that alive. Was it luck? Or was there something else at play?

A sudden thought crossed his mind. What if he was… meant to be here? What if everything, every step leading up to this, had been set in motion long before he even realized? But that seemed like a ridiculous conclusion, didn't it?

He shook his head, trying to shake off the growing sense of unease. Then another thought popped into his mind.

He'd read plenty of fanfics in the past, stories about characters getting thrown into new worlds, sometimes with cheats, sometimes without. Some got powerful abilities right off the bat, while others had to rely on their wit and strength to survive.

He'd always wondered what it'd be like to have cheats.... the sort of power that could make everything easier, the ones that let the protagonist skip all the hard parts.

But then there were those stories where the main character had nothing to rely on but their own determination. They had to work for everything, fight for every inch. Sometimes they were ordinary, sometimes they were flawed, and that's what made them feel more real.

"I'd probably prefer the first one," he muttered to himself, the thought lingering. "I'm not sure how I'd handle the whole thing with just 'being determined' as a thing in a whole run… would just be too much."

But then, as if to reassure himself, he couldn't help but feel a suspicion about his situation. Everything was too strange. It was too convenient.

He was in Nagazora, a place that wasn't even supposed to exist outside a game, and somehow he survived the impossible. Could it really be this simple? Could he really just accept that this was happening?

He groaned, running a hand over his face. "No, don't overthink it," he said aloud, almost to himself. He didn't need to drive himself crazy.

"Maybe I just need some time. If I think about this any longer, I'll probably lose my mind." He sighed deeply. "I just need to figure out what happens next."

As the cool sea breeze continued to brush against Ayin's skin, offering a small bit of comfort as he sat, staring into the distance. The rhythmic crash of the waves seemed to settle his thoughts, even if just for a moment. His mind, however, kept racing, unable to quiet the questions that plagued him.

He couldn't avoid thinking about the future. What would happen now? What was he supposed to do in a world that seemed so familiar, yet completely different? As a senior high school student, his life was supposed to be about classes, exams, maybe even preparing for university. But now...

_What am i even supposed to do here?_

_How would someone like me, suddenly thrown into a game world, make a living? How do i even start?_

He scratched the back of his neck, trying to push the thoughts together. "Maybe... I could get a job."

The idea seemed reasonable at first. _There were plenty of places hiring students like me, right? It wasn't as if the world was totally unfamiliar_ . But then, reality hit him. How would he even get a job? What kind of experience or requirements would he need to even start?

Ayin leaned back slightly, thinking about the most straightforward option that popped into his head.

"Maybe I could work at a convenience store. It's easy enough, right?"

But as soon as the thought came to him, his mind shot it down. "Wait… I don't even have any proper identification. Not even an ID for this world. Only my student ID, and that's barely worth anything here."

He sighed, rubbing his temples as frustration built up. He wasn't even sure where to get a proper ID. How did he even prove who he was in a place like this?

The more he thought about it, the more complicated it seemed. How was he supposed to integrate into this world, with no documents, no clear answers, and no way of knowing what was real and what wasn't?

He relaxed his back, but the pain in his left abdomen only intensified, a sharp ache spreading deeper. His face twisted in panic. "What the hell?" he muttered under his breath, his hand instinctively reaching to press against the spot on his chest where the pain seemed to radiate, his heart echoing the same discomfort. He looked down at his shirt, pulling it up slightly to inspect the area, trying to understand what was going on.

He cursed quietly, frustration mixing with fear. "Why now? It didn't hurt this much just a moment ago."

His mind raced as he tried to piece things together, wondering what had triggered this sudden shift. He racked his brain, thinking back to his classes back on Earth, where he'd learned about the human body and its systems. "Could it be... something with my organs?" he muttered to himself, his thoughts swirling as he attempted to make sense of the unfamiliar pain.

He clenched his teeth, forcing himself not to scream, but a low, strained groan escaped him.

"Ugh!"

The pain in his chest burned like fire, each breath feeling heavier than the last. His body shifted uncomfortably on the bench, the old wood creaking beneath him with every movement.

No one was around. It was already well past midnight, or maybe even later, he couldn't tell. Time had slipped away while he sat on the bench, lost in the haze of his pain, unaware of the hours passing by. His mind was a blur, the only clarity coming from the steady, growing pressure building within him.

He groaned louder this time, unable to suppress the sound of his suffering.

"Ahh!" Unknown to him, the injuries he had sustained were regenerating, each moment intensifying the pain. His arms gripped the edge of the bench, his knuckles turning white as he tried to anchor himself.

Crack! snap!

It sounded as though something inside was healing, but the process was excruciating.

Then, the pain shifted. It moved from his arms to his chest, spreading deeper. Ayin's breath caught in his throat as his body twisted. He instinctively pressed a hand against his chest, but it only intensified the sensation.

Thud, thud, thud.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears, matching the rhythm of his growing discomfort. He collapsed onto the cold floor, the impact sending a dull, heavy thud through his body. His face flushed red, sweat pouring down his face.

Drip, drip.

The sweat hitting the floor echoed in the quiet night.

In his mind, Ayin felt as though his heart was being pierced repeatedly.

Stab, stab, stab.

The sharp, relentless pain echoed in his thoughts, each strike more unbearable than the last. "Stop!" he screamed silently in his mind, frustration building with every passing second. But nothing eased the agony. His body trembled, and he gritted his teeth, trying to control the overwhelming pain.

Grit, grind—

His teeth ground together as he fought to stay conscious.

Every part of his body felt as if it were being pierced from the inside. The sensation was relentless, tearing at his insides.

Screech—

The sound of his clenched fists against the floor reverberated in the air. Finally, unable to hold it back any longer, Ayin screamed out loud, his voice raw and desperate.

"Aaaaah!" His body tensed uncontrollably as the pain consumed him entirely.

Honkai impact 3rd: [The Mission - System]

The air felt heavier as the figure's boots hit the pavement, the sound echoing against the quiet streets. A scream shattered the stillness, a cry filled with pain and desperation. Without a pause, the figure halted, head snapping to the left where the sound had pierced the air. Another scream. There was no time for hesitation. The figure sprinted, muscles tense, feet moving faster with every heartbeat.

The wind whipped past, a blur of the familiar scenery, as the figure ran through the park, its motion fluid—just a shadow darting through the trees, unfazed by the flickering lights of the streetlamps. The park was a momentary blur, nothing but the ground beneath the figure's feet. Then, as it exited the park, the figure's gaze locked onto the looming structure ahead: a building, half-completed and reaching for the sky.

Without breaking stride, the figure launched itself, every fiber of its body working in perfect harmony. It leaped with an unearthly grace, fingers catching the edge of a ledge high above. The sheer power of the jump left a momentary echo in the night, a testament to the strength behind it. Scaling the side of the building, the figure's movements were a seamless blend of agility and speed, each motion calculated with deadly precision.

As the figure reached the construction level, a labyrinth of steel beams and unfinished floors sprawled out before it. There was no hesitation now, just instinct. The figure used the beams as launch points, jumping from one to the next with fluidity, each leap accompanied by the creak of the metal and the sound of the wind whipping past. The figure's hands gripped the edges of concrete slabs and girders, pulling itself higher with every motion. Each move seemed to defy the very laws of gravity.

Jumping from a metal frame, the figure twisted mid-air, landing on a narrow scaffold. The momentum carried it forward, slamming into a steel pipe, then springing off into another series of aerial flips. The building's skeletal framework provided a perfect playground—every surface a new opportunity to propel forward, climbing higher, moving faster, never slowing down.

There was a fleeting moment of silence, just the wind and the sound of the figure's breath as it surveyed the next obstacle. With a swift leap, it soared towards the roof, its body slicing through the air like an arrow. The figure's form moved with the rhythm of a practiced dancer, a machine built for one purpose: to chase the scream that had echoed through the night.

As the night continueus it's silent song from above, save for the ragged breaths that cut through the air. Ayin lay on the ground, his back pressed against the cold pavement, eyes wide in agony. His body trembled, hands gripping his chest as if to contain the fiery pain that radiated from his heart.

Each pulse felt like a knife carving into his chest, the sharp, steady rhythm of agony pulling at his very soul.

Thud, thud, thud —

Each beat echoed in his ears, his heart refusing to relent. His breath came in quick, shallow gasps, desperate to find relief.

A scream tore from his throat, raw and guttural. He clenched his chest tighter, as if trying to hold the pain back, but it only grew worse.

Creak, crack —

the sensation was spreading, creeping from his heart, curling into his mind. The pain seeped upward, infiltrating the very fibers of his thoughts.

Thud... thud... thud —

It was no longer just his chest; it was his head now, a tightening sensation, like something was pressing against his skull.

Ayin gasped, eyes widening as he felt it. _No... not this. Not ...this... f*ck!..._ His mind raced as the intensity grew, the pulse turning into a sharp, searing headache that threatened to consume him. He gritted his teeth, muttering through clenched lips, "I'm.. not letting it happen... this time."

The words spilled out, the curse almost like a mantra. "I won't... I won't let it take me," he spat, struggling to focus, to fight it. But the pain, relentless and cruel, gnawed at him. He could feel the heat of it spreading into his brain, searing through his thoughts.

_F-Focus. Bre..athe._ His breath hitched, but he tried to steady it, drawing in slow, deliberate breaths. In, out.

The agony was still there, a throb in his chest, but he could push through it. He had before. His mind churned with every technique he'd ever learned, every method he'd used to deal with pain.

_Breathe, control it... don't let ..it spiral. Focus on the sensation... don't let it... control you._

He closed his eyes, shutting out the world, as he delved into his past experiences. Focus on the breath, slow the heart rate, he thought. He could feel the air enter his lungs, expanding his chest.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to pull him back from the brink. His heart pounded still, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind, grounding himself. _Breathe, steady. Breathe._

He gritted his teeth harder, pulling on the techniques he'd long since perfected, the breathing, mental control, self-talk. His grip on his chest tightened, trying to stave off the pain with every ounce of willpower he had left. But still, the pressure grew, like a vice closing in on his skull. _Don't... give in!_ he repeated to himself.

As if answering his call, the pain lessened, just for a moment. Ayin took the brief opportunity to relax his tense body, letting out a shaky breath as a small trickle of energy returned.

_Just.. a little more, just a little... longer_ he thought, willing the relief to last. But before he could gather himself, the pain spiked again. But sudden, cruel, and overwhelming. It surged through his skull, a relentless wave that threatened to tear him apart.

His scream tore through the night, raw and desperate. His hands gripped his head, trying in vain to push back against the agony. _No... no.. f*ck not again._

Ayin tried to stand, to force his body into some kind of action, but it betrayed him. His legs refused to cooperate, crumpling beneath him. His body fell back to the ground with a sickening thud. His head pulsed, the pressure mounting with each heartbeat, and the scream erupted again, louder, filled with the desperation of a soul teetering on the edge.

A figure landed nearby, its boots hitting the ground with a soft thud as it dashed through the alley exit. The figure moved with unrelenting speed, the sound of footfalls echoing against the empty streets. With every stride, the air seemed to grow thicker, the scream becoming louder and clearer. The figure's focus was to a singular goal. To reach the source, to find the one who cried out.

The figure reached the beach sidewalk, the sounds of waves crashing against the shore mixing with Ayin's agonized cries. It didn't hesitate, moving swiftly toward the form on the ground. Ayin, still in the grip of his pain, writhed and rocked side to side. His hands were clenched tightly to his head, as if trying to hold his mind together. The figure stopped just in front of him, staring down at the struggling man with a mix of confusion and concern.

"Hey! Are you okay?" The figure shouted, their voice carrying over the sound of the waves. "What's happening to you? Talk to me!"

Ayin's body continued to convulse, but his ears registered the voice. He could hear a woman's voice calling to him, though the pain in his head drowned out everything else. His lips moved, but no words came. His body just couldn't respond, couldn't do anything but scream and writhe in agony.

The figure reached forward, hands outstretched, and in an instant, grabbed Ayin's wrists. The moment they made contact, Ayin's hands were forced away from his head, his body still shaking, but now held in place. The figure's grip was firm, stopping Ayin from clutching at his skull any longer.

Ayin's scream faltered, but the pain remained, gnawing at him, relentless and uncaring.

His eyes snapped open, momentarily forgetting the searing pain as he locked gazes with a figure standing above him. It was a girl, with white twin tails cascading around her shoulders and piercing blue eyes that seemed to shine with concern.

His breath caught in his throat, his mind slowing as he took in her features. For a fleeting moment, everything else. The pain and his screams faded away.

But before he could gather himself, the girl's attention shifted. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing as she noticed something. The sound of approaching sirens grew louder.

"The police are coming," she murmured to herself, her voice barely audible above the growing noise. _It must have been the screams_ she thought, realizing someone must have reported it.

Her gaze quickly returned to Ayin, her brows furrowing in concern as she noticed something that made her expression harden. The look on her face shifted, becoming even more serious. Her eyes drifted to Ayin's neck, and the once calm, concerned air around her now carried an edge of worry.

She leaned closer, her voice gentle but firm, "What happened to you? There's something wrong... with your neck.... wait–"

The girl moved closer, her face now just inches from Ayin's. Her breath was steady, her blue eyes locked onto his. The sudden proximity shattered the remnants of his shock, snapping him back into reality. Before he could fully process what was happening, her voice came softly, yet firm, "I'm sorry."

Ayin blinked. His mind, still hazy from pain and confusion, struggled to make sense of her words. _Sorry?_ His lips parted as he tried to ask something but before the words could leave his mouth, he felt her hands grip his shoulders. With surprising strength, she pulled him up into a sitting position, his body still trembling from the fading but persistent pain.

More questions surged into his mind. _Why is she here? What is she going to do? Wait. more importantly, what does she mean by Sorry?_

But before he could voice any of them, the pain in his head started creeping back, crawling through his skull like a relentless parasite. A dull groan built in his throat as the sensation became sharper, threatening to consume him again.

Crack!

A sharp impact struck his jaw. The force sent a jolt through his head, and the world around him seemed to slow. His vision blurred as the pain in his body mixed with the sudden dizziness from the punch. His mind struggled to keep up as the sensation of falling washed over him.

His thoughts drifted, fragmented, yet one thing stood out in his mind.

_Déjà vu… i think... I've been this through before…_

The colors around him faded, and everything turned to black.

After knocking Ayin out, the girl wasted no time. With practiced ease, she lifted him onto her back, adjusting his weight before breaking into a sprint. Her movements were swift as they slipping through the dimly lit streets as she headed toward the city.

Meanwhile, two police officers patrolled the sidewalk, their eyes scanning the area where the scream had originated. One of them let out an annoyed grunt, rubbing the back of his neck. "Damn it, tricked again," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Frustration laced his voice as he turned to his partner. "I swear, I'm filing another complaint. If this keeps up, the higher-ups need to take this kind of thing seriously. We can't keep running around chasing false alarms."

His partner, however, remained silent, his eyes scanning the area with a sharp focus. _Something felt off._ As they walked, he slowed his pace, his gaze falling to the pavement. A faint glimmer caught his attention, and he narrowed his eyes, kneeling slightly to take a closer look.

The ground was wet. Not just from the usual moisture of the night air, but in an irregular pattern and was still fresh, like it was still new. He ran a gloved hand lightly over it, frowning.

"Hey… something's not right," he said to his partner, his instincts kicking in.