Extract from the -{ Tome of Light }- the divine scripture of the Church of Light.

"When the threads of fate converge in divine tapestry, recognize the prophecy that anoints me as the ultimate arbiter of cosmic order. Through my omnipotent will, I shall forge a new era where I alone hold sway over the realms of existence." (The Prophecy of the One - 5:5)

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The cinema screen flickered back to life, seamlessly transitioning from the closing credits to the next installment of Dragon Ball Z. As vibrant colors danced across the screen, Asher felt a chill run down his spine, acutely aware of the surreal situation he found himself in. The air seemed to crackle with an unseen energy, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"The films from your world are quite fascinating, especially the animated ones," the mysterious man remarked, his eyes never leaving the screen as he casually munched on popcorn. The buttery aroma wafted through the air, a jarring contrast to the tension Asher felt. "It's impressive how you let your imagination flow so freely and bring such vibrant stories to life on the screen."

The man's gaze suddenly snapped to Asher, his eyes sharp and calculating. The intensity of his stare made Asher feel as if he were being dissected, every weakness laid bare. "You're too stiff," the man said, his voice cutting through the animated sounds from the screen. "Just looking at you, I can see you're uncertain, anxious... weak. Don't let your thoughts show on your face. Every encounter can turn into a battle, and that battle starts long before the exchange of fists."

Asher's heart raced, the man's words cutting through him like a knife. He tried to school his features, but the effort only seemed to amuse his companion. The theater seemed to grow colder, the shadows in the corners deepening.

"People often chase strength blindly, but pure strength alone isn't enough if you aspire to reach the pinnacle," the man continued, his voice low and menacing despite the colorful anime playing in the background. "Study your opponents, read their expressions, their body language. Know their needs and grasp their weaknesses. Use all this to steer the situation in your favor. And if they rebel or threaten your goals, use everything at your disposal to eliminate them swiftly and completely."

Disgust and fear warred within Asher. The casual way the man spoke of elimination chilled him to the bone, yet he understood the underlying message. This ruthless approach was foreign to him, but it was the norm in the "realms." To survive, he would have to adapt. The weight of this realization settled on his shoulders like a physical burden.

Unintentionally, Asher reeled back all the expressions on his face. The man noticed this and smiled slightly before continuing, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"You see, it's a start. Concealing your emotions is the first step. But remember, true strength lies not just in physical power, but in the control of one's mind and the manipulation of the battlefield, both seen and unseen. This world rewards those who are cunning and decisive. Be prepared, Ash-boy. Every encounter can be a test, and every test can be your last if you're not careful."

As the man spoke, the air around them seemed to thicken, the colors of the movie screen bleeding into their surroundings. Asher blinked, trying to focus. The boundaries between reality and illusion blurred, making him question the nature of this strange encounter.

"Those truly powerful often battle with their minds, drawing swords only when necessary," he continued, his voice echoing strangely. "Some battles can be won without ever using fists. Isn't that remarkable? Always strive to manipulate information from your opponents. If you can't control your body language, facial expressions, or the tone of your voice to mislead them, then make them rigid and stoic, like a block of stone. Providing no information is better than clumsy attempts at deceit. You'll master this with more experience."

Asher nodded, his mouth dry. The room seemed to be shifting, the walls bending in impossible ways. The man seemed engrossed in his popcorn and soda, a stark contrast to the weight of his words. The dichotomy was unsettling, adding to the surreal atmosphere.

"If you have any questions, now's your chance to ask," the man said, taking a sip of his soda. The liquid seemed to shimmer unnaturally, swirling with colors that shouldn't exist.

Gathering his courage, Asher asked, "Who are you?" His voice sounded small in the vast, shifting space of the theater.

The man's eyes glinted, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I have many identities, though most are of little consequence to you. Relative to what's useful, you could say I manage the creation system, in a manner of speaking, you can just call me ‘Mr.Guide’."

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Asher gazed at the man, his voice slow as he responded, "Is that so..." He already had a hunch that the man had certain control over the system, so he wasn't entirely surprised. Then, settling back into his seat, Asher continued with his next question, fighting to keep his voice steady.

"Are you the one who sent me to the tutorial space?"

"No, the creation system's algorithm chose you," the Guide replied promptly. "I found out a bit later, and things by then had gotten beyond control, so I just let things go on." There was a hint of amusement in his tone, as if he found the whole situation entertaining.

Asher then followed with another one, his curiosity overriding his caution, "Why such special care of me?"

"Because of the contract, I can't have you dilly-dallying around. The sooner you complete it, the sooner you can get rid of me," the Guide replied with a shameless smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Asher was left speechless to hear the man admit so openly that he found him useful and had been keeping a close watch on his actions. On second thought, he realized it was only natural; people often focus on those who can help fulfill their desires. The cynicism of this realization left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Suddenly, a shrill ring cut through the air, shattering the tense atmosphere. The Guide pulled out an old pink flip phone from his sleeve, silencing the alarm. The incongruity of the device with the man's appearance was jarring.

"Aiii, unfortunately, looks like the time's up," he sighed, standing abruptly. Popcorn scattered across the floor, disappearing into swirling mists that had begun to form. He briefly looked heartbroken, staring at the spilled popcorn before collecting himself. "Ahem, since my break is over, let's get to business."

With a clap of his hands, the world twisted. Colors bled together, reality warped, and Asher felt a moment of vertigo. When everything settled, he found himself seated in an office chair, facing an imposing desk. The man settled into the seat behind it, propping his feet up on the corner. The sudden change in scenery left Asher disoriented, struggling to regain his composure.

"So, the thing is that there's a bit of trouble due to my previous interference. A butterfly effect, you can say," the Guide began, casually picking his ear with his little finger, the serious words contrasting with his nonchalant demeanor. The juxtaposition was unsettling, keeping Asher on edge.

"As you know already, the system tutorial you were undergoing is about to be completed. One of the successful completion criteria for Gabriel Crosswell, your caretaker, was that he was to help you successfully awaken by the end of the time."

The man pulled out his finger, blowing on it for whatever weird reason. "Due to outside interference on his side, he was unable to do that using the most common method of assisted awakening, which takes time, and had to resort to the natural awakening method due to time constraints. He gave you a consumable treasure which would naturally increase the sensitivity and open pneuma pathways in your body from its potency."

Asher was wary of how the man was aware of every detail, but he was more curious as to what point the man was getting at. He leaned forward slightly, his body tense with anticipation.

"So, what's the problem, you might be thinking," the Guide continued, taking his legs off the table and leaning over one of his arms on the desk. His eyes bore into Asher's, seeming to pierce through to his very soul. "The thing is, the treasure you have consumed is great, and it should work as intended, that is if it was not you consuming it. The system has calculated ahead based on the assumption that it would work due to the fabricated information it had. The problem is if things are left to proceed like this, the system will detect an error again and scan you once more. The error is that you would not awaken at the end like its predictions, as the fruit is useless to you."

The man flashed a smile as Asher recalled the distinct memory where he had read the system prompts where his information was altered to prevent the system from rejecting and trying to destroy his soul. The implications of this revelation sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"The reason behind the fruit not working is me?" Asher asked, his voice barely above a whisper, fear, and curiosity warring within him.

"Bingo," the Guide replied, leaning back in his chair once again as he slightly swung it around. "The problem is that the fruit is a bloodline fruit which is useless to your body as its grade is too low. After all, who would exchange gold for silver?"

Asher was struck silent as he tried his best to hold his expression. The gravity of what the Guide said was instantly understood by Asher. His mind raced with the implications, fear, and excitement, battling for dominance.

"Don't get proud, kid," the Guide warned, his voice cutting through Asher's thoughts like a blade. "This world always balances fortune with misfortune. It makes sure each of your blessings is paid in full. All you can do is try your best to control the damage and not die."

The words didn't fall on deaf ears. Asher understood loud and clear that he would have to face much misfortune and challenges due to whatever this gift of his was. What was worse was he had never even asked for it… it felt as if fate did whatever it pleased. Hints of anger crept up in his mind as he tried to suppress it.

His mind was in chaos, a tempest of emotions and thoughts threatening to overwhelm him.

*Plop*

Asher was distracted from his troubles by a file that was placed on the table in front of him by the man. The sound seemed to echo in the suddenly silent office, drawing Asher's attention like a moth to a flame.

"This over here is the solution to your troubles," the Guide said, pointing to the contract on the table as he leaned back on his chair. A devious grin spread across his face, his eyes glittering with an almost predatory light.

In this moment, for Asher, the man truly seemed like a devil in disguise. The weight of the contract before him felt impossibly heavy, promising both salvation and damnation. As he stared at the file, Asher couldn't help but wonder what price he would have to pay for this "solution," and whether it would be worth the cost.

The office seemed to darken around them, the shadows lengthening as if reaching out to claim Asher. He could feel the crossroads of fate stretching out before him, each path fraught with unseen dangers and hidden consequences. The air grew thick with tension, making it hard to breathe.

With cold steady hands, he reached for the contract, knowing that whatever choice he made would irrevocably change the course of his life in this strange and perilous new world. The paper felt unnaturally warm beneath his fingers, as if alive with potential energy.

As Asher's fingertips brushed the edge of the contract, the Guide leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. "Remember, Ash-boy," he said, his voice low and intense, "in this world, nothing comes without a price. Are you prepared to pay it?"

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with implications. Asher swallowed silently, his mouth dry as desert sand. He knew that his answer would set him on a path from which there was no return. With a deep breath, he steeled himself, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The die was cast, and the game of fate was truly about to begin.