LUCK, AN UNKNOWN SPACE.

My eyes cannot focus on the setting around them because of the unwavering glory of the luminescent colors covering the space around us. Roshia—my former self—holds my hand and guides me as we walk through the colorful terrain of emptiness.

"Welcome to The Between. It's barren right now, but that's only because we haven't started walking yet." Roshia's words somehow make me realize my inability to move inside of this space. Restricted by an unseen force, twisting my head is even an impossible task. "See?" Confirming the restrictions to me, Roshia turns to face me.

Seeing her turn around makes me confused about why she can move freely but I cannot. 'Is it because she's dead? No, wait. Aren't I dead too?'

"You're not dead yet, but you will be if you don't snap out of it. You, Yuri, and Malison are all going to be eviscerated by that little dragon thing." Reading my thoughts, Roshia brushes my concerns about death aside. Bearing on the brink of death and dying are both the same thing in my eyes. They'll eventually lead to me coming back in a new body.

Roshia's brows furrow.

'How am I going to find this power you were talking about if I can't move?' Changing her demeanor, Roshia nonchalantly shrugs. "I don't know, I can move around freely, though."

I try to gather the strength to break through this paralysis and drive my fist straight into Roshia's teeth, and thankfully for her, I'm not able to.

"Hitting me isn't going to make this any less complex." Her words are undeniably true. Hitting her will only make me feel better.

"I can't help you do something that I don't know how to do myself. I can walk freely for some reason, so you're going to figure out why that is. If you desperately need help, ask the other guy." Roshia rolls her eyes. She turns around and steps out of my view, leaving me with the symphony of colors that overwhelmed the world around me.

Her words stick in my mind. 'The other guy?' Without the ability to move myself, I can't see if there is anyone else in the space with me. Outside of my field of view, I cannot confirm if Roshia still exists. This may all be a strong hallucination cast on me by another powerful enemy. 'Could something this intricate really be possible? There is no one alive who should still remember Roshia Qinlen...'

An unfamiliar voice in the distance replies to my thoughts.

"You're wrong about that part. There's a couple of people I can name who remember you." From the person's voice, I can tell that they are a young male. Making out their physical features is impossible, but I imagine that they have brown hair and a chiseled body.

"You're a little too hopeful." In response to my mental depiction of the person, they quickly shut me down. Deflating, I mentally frown. "If you want to know what I look like, why don't you take a step forward and find out yourself?" The voice is poking fun at me, showing awareness of my situation.

'How long have you been there?' I question. This person has supposedly been present for a while or at least can understand my helplessness.

"Little ole' me? I've been here... don't know how long, but I've been here." Answering the question sounds like it might've sullied the man's moods if he had been in a good one before. His response is miffed, his words coming out pained. "I was here alone for a while, and then the smug one showed up, and she made things a little interesting while trying to get past the walls of this place."

'There are walls?' Because I couldn't move I was not able to wander and test the boundaries of the space like Roshia. If there are any walls, surely they aren't here to keep me contained right now. Instead, they are meant to keep the inhabitants of this space captive.

The man snaps his finger behind me, amused by my curiosity. "You have a pretty unique appearance. You're a feline, unlike the two of us. You've got a nice tail and pointy ears just barely sticking past your hair." From his description, the man might be a normal humanoid without the unusual characteristics that this body was bestowed.

"With all of these unique things you've got going, you'd never believe me if I told you just how deeper that unique goes," his words briefly stagger, "or how painful it is to watch you not see it." Compared to his monotonous speech before, he now sounds disheartened.

"To answer your question, there are walls keeping the two of us locked in here, yes." Delayed, I received the answer to my question. "I'd like to ask you a question. Other than the people in the living world, who are the most unusual people you've met?"

"That victim, Ascelin, he doesn't count. An entity you've never seen in the physical world, so Anaphiel doesn't quite count either..." Cutting off any of the other paths I can follow, the man openly puts down a trail for me to follow. It might be partially puzzling but I can tell where he is going with this, and deliver the answer to him.

'Historia, she came out of nowhere and invaded the other space.' I hadn't gotten time to acquaint myself with Ascelin before Historia appeared inside the vast space. At the time, I'd begun to accept my role as a passenger to everything playing out. I cannot say that I understand the point that the man is trying to make. However, he has shown that he's aware of the things unfolding outside of this area, just like Roshia.

He snaps his finger again. "You're spot on, good. Historia appeared and suddenly took over, giving you instructions and illuding to things that you have not even the slightest clue about. Confidently, you can call her your ally, just for how long?" The last phrase leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

"Let's evaluate everything. Shall we?"

He doesn't let me finish before he begins.

"After a tragic 'accident', a monster unfit for this world emerged through the thousands of dimensional gates opening across the world to begin this game-esque setting we're living in now. You were locked in stasis until someone—that being Anaphiel—'fixed' your system, allowing you to be free from your stasis in a form that you'd never seen before. Your system showcased a skill that allows you to return to life in a new body after every instance you die."

"This brought about the question of whether this was some form of possession or if a new body was being generated to hold you. Memories invade your mind in each body, even if this is only your second. There will undoubtedly be a third and fourth, eventually."

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"Shaped like a game, you continuously went around killing monsters, being dragged about from level to level, and having your life shaped in the image of a spectator. I mean, there hasn't been a single instance where you've done something for yourself, has it?" A single conflicting thought is unable to form in my mind. The things this man is saying are true, somehow.

During my journey, I was not able to create a single path for myself. From the moment I entered the Awakener's Association building—the day I crossed paths with Toy Cesta—my life was set to follow a direction that seemed predetermined. I wasted no time getting involved with the 'festivities' this new world had to offer since it was so much different from the one that I was exiting.

The voice continues. "You found allies and friends, as your mind changed after entering each body. You were lied to and deceived by someone whom you trusted, though your eyes could never see it. As the world around you changed shape, you eventually found yourself back in the Room Between Stories." This time, he speaks about something that has not happened yet.

"And as you listen and understand, you'll realize just how far you've come." Disbelief sprouts in my chest and blossoms across my figure, literally. A honey-colored lotus blooms from my suspended chest like a manifestation of the influx of emotions I experienced. "With every action you've taken up until this point, you've been supervised and guided to go somewhere. Even your own self led you here since you couldn't do that on your own."

The words of the voice could make any listener assume that he is being condescending and reviling me. Unlike any other listener, I do not hear it this way. Sincerity is laced with every one of the man's words as the lotus in my chest stretches and wraps around my torso.

"I should call you by your name, shouldn't I?" Rhetorically pondering, the man snaps his fingers, much like he's done in the last few moments. "Luck," I feel a surge of energy course through my back as my name is spoken by the person behind me. "I'll only ask you one time. What do you want to do with yourself?"

"Will you continue following this script, and entertaining viewers? Are you content with facing hardships over and over again, repeatedly dying without being able to do anything for yourself?" Feeling like I've heard talks like this many times, I'm prepared to meet disappointment even if I take all of his words into account.

He kept talking to me, explaining things that I'd been told many times before—how I'd seen things myself.

Outside of the walls of this space, I am certain that time is at a standstill. Suspended in a state where things cannot escalate, half of my conscience tries convincing me to remain in this world forever. If I do not leave it, then dying or having Yuri and Malison get incinerated won't be possible. That'd be the most helpful thing I've done in a long time.

The ideas springing to life in my head convinced me that if I stayed locked away in this realm, unable to move, then someone—or something—powerful enough to make a difference would appear. Just like how every step I took in the right direction led me to a more powerful opponent, my hope lies in the chance of a powerful enemy standing in front of the opposition in my way.

Alas, with the words they've spoken, I come to theorize that perhaps I am that enemy myself. As pathetic as I may be, the likelihood of someone strong enough to handle this beast arriving is slim.

Not even Ms. Tachibana should be able to reach us in time to do anything about the incoming attack. While I've not seen everything that her arsenal has to offer, I could never place all of my eggs in that basket. As my enemies grow, the title of 'S-Rank' becomes emptier.

I'm a damsel. In each encounter, I need the assistance of someone. Never am I capable of handling these issues on my own.

Claiming that I've become tired of these scenarios won't change my destiny. Crying, groaning, and moaning until something happens will never work either. "I—" Thoughts do not cross my mind adequately. Akin to a bad influx of water into a field's soil, my mind is practically overwhelmed by a depressing wave of information.

Flickering, my consciousness wavers under the intimacy shared with the information and my brain.

While my body is petrified, lifting a hand to my head is only a faraway hope. Nevertheless, the details crossing my mind at the pinnacle of my existential crisis were more rewarding than anything I could've hoped for.

At first, the thoughts came through my mind in the form of shapes and malformed crests. Running across the space of my mind, I'd imagine my brain becoming carved into it, if these things were physical in any way.

An ordinary person making contact with these symbols would assume that they meant nothing. Fairly, they'd assume that the shapes were illusions that solidified the evolution of their insanity. Should I have never been equipped with a mind that let me comprehend the meaning behind each shape in a fashion that displayed the words like 'closed captions', I'd challenge my sanity as well.

Across each of the symbols, I recognized words that explained chunks of things. Each symbol carried enough information to fill several pages of a book. Meanwhile, as my eyes unconsciously scan and decipher the information presented in front of them, all of the information that they rapidly decipher is flooded into my mind page-by-page.

If I can think of another way of explaining it; think of taking all of the clothes from your laundry basket and stuffing them all into your washer.

Following the information given to me, convulsions spring to life across my body. Spasming muscles create the first showcase of movement that my body has produced since I arrived in this lively space. Quickly, the spasming develops into a complete motion.

Rising above their suspended state, my arms stretch out in front of me, horribly unaligned. Moving my body feels like I am re-learning my basic motor functions. Even breathing—which isn't required in this space—has become a demanding task while getting my body to do as I command.

"Hoo-hooh!" An excited chime comes from the voice of the man behind me, who's been completely silent until now. Focusing on the movement of my muscles, I hardly take any time to acknowledge the confirmation of the man's presence behind me.

"You're actually moving, I can't believe it..." Closer to me than the man's voice, Roshia speaks next.

Just like with the unknown man, I block out the sounds of Roshia's praising. Through my laborious efforts, my legs start moving next. Just as the untenable information within my mind ushered, each movement of my body brought me closer to the wall in front of me.

After the first few steps, things begin flowing smoothly. I am stepping forward without needing to focus all of my effort or attention on the rudimentary task. However, a feeling of finality beckons me to answer the unknown man's question before I get too close to the wall in front of myself. "What I want to do with myself is—!"

The pressure on my back prevents me from finishing my answer to the man.

An unmistakable feeling of a hand printed itself against my back and sent me crashing forward into the massive wall. Defensively, my small hands wave frantically in front of me until they connect with the glowing, blank wall in front of them.

"Don't tell me. Just tell yourself, then I'll see what you've got to offer once the fruits of your efforts start to appear." The unknown man's voice confirms my underlying suspicion that he is the one who pushed me. My vessel, acting on its own according to the information generated in my mind, doesn't warrant me any time to protest or complain. Immediately, the wall in front of me shines an impossibly brighter color than before.

From the wall, the oppressive aura that I'd felt from many of the powerful figures I've crossed paths with resonates. Like this wall is the manifestation of Mind Khussa, the first Red Witch I'd ever been unlucky enough to fight against. That parasol-wielding woman was the least of my concerns, after realizing just how convoluted the world outside of 'our world' truly is.

She'd no doubt be offended if she understood the simple step that I was taking to surpass her.

With a simple push, the wall shatters. The concept of weight did not matter in this space. What destroyed the wall was not my physical abilities or conditions—the perpetrator was none other than my existence. Simplifying the extraordinary process; I merely willed for the wall in front of me to no longer exist.

While it is only a single layer of the wall, my very existence feels paramount compared to before. New ideas and thoughts spring to life in my mind, like I'd removed a mental inhibitor from myself. An awesome feeling of superiority drowns out my senses the moment I come to terms with the energy coursing through my 'veins'.

It feels like I've unlocked a new part of myself—overcome by newly discovered strength.

"This is as much as I can do right now."

My presses against the second blank wall behind the one that I'd just deconstructed. Unlike the first wall, this one does not budge whatsoever. It doesn't react to my touch in the slightest, and this doesn't irritate me for some reason. Maybe it's because I've already taken a major step in the right direction simply by meeting some unwritten mental conditions.

Maybe I'd been lying to myself before when I kept insisting that I accepted my role. It wouldn't be wrong for me to try and find some solace in my autonomy.

I needn't think like the man who I used to be, nor need I think like Roshia Qinlen.

Right now, I am Luck, a feline-girl with luck outside of this world. Moreover, I am also the one who carries the power to change things. First to change things, just like the information flooding my mind told me, I will need to make a heavy sacrifice.

As the world around me comes to fade, marking the end of my journey in this mental landscape, I know that I will soon return to the world of the living.

In the world of the living, I will have no choice but to abandon the system that has helped me for so long. By becoming independent from the system, I will then unlock the potential that is not barred by the restrictions of the architects of this system meant to assist humanity.

Returning to the world of the living, I cannot help but chuckle to myself as I feel the familiar heat of an approaching death ray.

'Throw everything I've got into this one, system.'

While I was groaning and suffering from the invasion of information in The Between, I came to understand a way to rid myself of the system temporarily, granting my 'real' self time to develop without the influence of an outer source. By unleashing all of my abilities at one time, unhindered by any of the restrictions placed on the system—I can overload it by using it in a way that was not intended.

No one else should be able to accomplish a feat of this magnitude—no normal person. It may be because of the title I carry that such a profound idea even sprung to life in my mind. Releasing so much power from the system that I destroy it until it fixes itself—I never knew my own genius.

Truly, I am fit to carry the title of 'Anomaly'.