--December 1995--

"Shit! Not this again! Every damn time…" I spat out a mouthful of blood, struggling to get to my feet. Two Arakawa punks had me pinned good; one twisting my arm behind my back until I thought it'd snap, the other's knee digging into my spine. My vision swam. They'd worked me over pretty good.

"Man, you picked a shit day to piss off the Arakawa family," a gruff voice growled. Wasn't my fault some hopped-up errand boy couldn't handle a fistfight. Figured I'd teach him a lesson about respect, the hard way. Guess that backfired, huh?

My head spun, vision blurring at the edges. I tasted iron. Fuck, they really did a number on me this time. Panic welled up, cold and clammy, but I shoved it down. Gotta stay tough, gotta find an out. There had to be a way out of this mess.

Then one of the fuckers pulled out a gun! How the hell did he get a piece?!

He put it up against my forehead like a goddamn gangster, holding it wrong and everything.

"Any last words?!" The punk, with his stupid grin asked me.

Think, Ichiban, think! Whose name would scare these punks shitless?

Kiryu. Yeah, Kiryu. That dude was the real deal. Scary as hell.

Or maybe...Arakawa? Nah, that's crazy, right? They'd see right through that. But Masumi Arakawa was ruthless, a stone-cold killer. Maybe that's what these guys respected. Fear.

Shit, it was a gamble either way. My gut twisted. Go with the familiar, stick with Kiryu. Yeah, that's it.

"Man, I know you're dumb! But you wanna kill the buddy of Kazuma Kiryu as a member of his enemy family? Do you have a death wish or something?" I spat, trying to sound confident, but my voice cracked.

The punks hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing their faces. For a split second, I thought maybe, just maybe, I'd bought myself another day.

A harsh laugh cut through the air. "Ha! That would be intimidating if the dragon of Dojima didn't just end up in fucking prison! Have fun in hell, you fucking poser!"

A muzzle flash. A roar. Everything went white.

Then, nothing.

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I jolted awake, gasping. My head throbbed, a dull ache behind my eyes. My vision swam, unfocused. Where the hell...?

"OH MY GOD! NOT ANOTHER ONE OF MY FATE-CHOSEN! At least your soul is in one piece! What am I going to do?! Everything is ruined!"

A woman's voice, high-pitched and frantic, sliced through the haze. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. I was lying on something soft and fluffy, like a goddamn cloud. And hovering above me, a woman – no, a girl, really – with wild purple hair and a shimmering dress that looked like it cost more than my entire life savings. She was freaking out, waving her arms like a conductor leading a symphony orchestra that's about to fall apart.

What the- What the hell happened? Was I dead? Was this heaven? It sure as hell didn't look like the happy-go-lucky Buddha statues my pops used to collect.

"What. The. Fuck." I gritted out, each word a struggle. My head throbbed in time with the woman's frantic pacing. This technicolor cloud land, the weird shimmering desk, this whole crazy situation — it was too much. Too much for a guy who just wanted to forget another shitty year.

"That bastard!" the woman shrieked, her voice high-pitched and frantic, "He just raided the blessing vault, ate the narrative weight and plot armor of all my fate-chosen, and then fucked off to another one of my colleges multiverse clusters! I get that black mana is addictive and warps people bad, but did this fucking foreigner class asshole have to take EVERYTHING EXCEPT RETURN BY DEATH AND MY WORLD-CIRCUIT?!"

She slammed her fist on the desk, making the whole cloud-thing bounce. I winced, my head pounding. What the hell was she talking about? And why was she speaking like some kind of hopped-up fantasy nerd?

"Yes, because I totally know what any of that is," I shot back, my voice a mix of pain and annoyance, "And I totally didn't just get shot in the head! Lady! Fucking English or Japanese! Please! Standard sensemaking!"

I gestured wildly with my hands, trying to emphasize my point. This had to be some messed-up dream. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought back there. Yeah, that was it. This was all some whacked-out concussion dream.

"No time!" the goddess declared, cutting me off mid-sentence. Before I could even process what the hell that meant, she was shoving me towards a swirling vortex of light that materialized out of thin air.

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"Whoa, hey!" I yelled, but my words were swallowed by the rushing wind that suddenly surrounded me.

"The World Circuit will allow you to see how strong you are and allow you to move to a different one of my worlds upon death via the nexus connected to the World Circuit! Return by Death resets all the universes to the beginning and sends you to the nexus where the worlds are frozen in time while you're picking your destination! I'm rooting for you! You're literally the only one left!"

Her words, a jumbled mess of nonsense, echoed in my ears as I was sucked through the portal. My vision went white, then everything dissolved into a chaotic kaleidoscope of colors and shapes.

My stomach lurched. My head spun.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, it was over.

–IKSTM–

I opened my eyes, a groan escaping my lips. My head throbbed, a dull ache behind my eyes. Sitting up, I took in my surroundings. I was in a long, sterile-looking hallway, white walls stretching as far as the eye could see. A row of doors lined either side, each one identical except for a small, glowing label above the handle.

"Naruto," I muttered, reading the label on the door closest to me. "What the..."

I pushed myself to my feet, my legs wobbly beneath me. As I made my way down the hallway, I read each label aloud, each one more bizarre than the last.

"Bleach... Re:Zero... Kengan Ashura/Kenichi/Baki…"

The names meant nothing to me. I stopped in front of one door, a strange chill crawling up my spine as I read the label.

"Berserk."

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. "I have no idea what any of these are," I muttered to myself. My voice echoed in the empty hallway, a hollow reminder of my solitude.

What kind of messed-up dream was this?

I stared at the doors, each label a nonsensical word in some foreign language. Frustration gnawed at me. What the hell was I supposed to do here? Which one led back to… well, not back exactly. There was no going back from getting your brains blown out. But maybe one of these doors led to something that made sense.

My eyes drifted towards the one marked "Berserk." I didn't know why, but something about that word… it set my teeth on edge. Like a bad feeling you get in your gut, telling you to walk away. So, I did.

"Re:Zero" it was, then. I didn't feel anything from behind this one. Just a weird kinda coldness. But hell, it was winter back home. A little chill never hurt anybody.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and stepped through.

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My eyes stung as I adjusted to the bright sunlight. I found myself in a narrow alleyway, the air thick with the smells of garbage and something vaguely floral. Strange, unfamiliar buildings towered overhead, casting long shadows that stretched towards the bustling street at the end of the alley.

I was definitely not in Kansas anymore. Or Kamurocho, for that matter.

Before I could process any of it, three figures emerged from the shadows, blocking the exit. Posers, the lot of them. Two guys and a tiny guy. One of the guys – skinny, with greasy hair – flashed a cocky grin, revealing a mouth full of straight and clean teeth, despite the surroundings having a medieval feel. The other guy was built like a tank, arms crossed over his chest, his face a mask of boredom. The midget, he was tiny, practically bouncing on his toes, with a bright pink hat and a nose piercing. Also the biggest dopey look that I'd ever seen on a human being.

"Look what we have here!" Skinny piped up, his voice a nasal whine, "A big guy, but he looks rich! Look at those nice clothes! Leather shoes! How bout you give me those shoes and whatever you got that's valuable and we'll get out of your hair. You also won't die."

I glanced down at my worn leather jacket and scuffed shoes. Rich? These punks wouldn't know real money if it bit 'em.

I could tell from the way they held themselves, these guys were all bark and no bite. The one with a couple of knives at his waist was practically begging to get disarmed. The big guy looked like he'd rather take a nap than throw a punch. And the little one, he was practically vibrating with nervous energy.

"Yeah, no," I said, shaking my head. "Midget, big dumb, and silver-hair-collar-dumbass. I don't got time for your shit, so just, you know, go away."

The silver-haired one, Skinny, I guess, frowned. He whipped out two arm-length knives, twirling them theatrically. I almost laughed. his goddamn thumbs were in the wrong place.

I sighed. "Yeah, we're doing this."