Dawn had not yet fully broken over Hoshinaka Village when Souta Minakawa slipped from the silent halls of Classroom 2-B. The eastern sky was a band of deep indigo and pale gray, the promise of sunrise held in its wash. In the humble homes clustered below, only a handful of lanterns flickered in windows, where parents stirred their children awake. Beyond their rooftops, the pine forest stood dark and still, its depths hiding the two halves of an ancient puzzle.
Souta paused on the courtyard's stone edge, raising a hand to check the sigil glowing faintly in his palm. The glyph's soft, steady pulse assured him that Node 1—awakened months ago at the forgotten shrine—remained secure within him. His HUD flared for a moment in his mind before receding, confirming the core stats he'd learned to trust:
[Host: Minakawa Souta]
• Age: 39
• Biological Cap: 53 Years
• Brain Processing Power: 1.1×
• Life Points: 2.8
Below, another line caught his breath:
[Environment: Node 2 Signal Strength: 82 % → 85 %]
[Resonance Field: Low; Follower's Link: Near Critical]
He closed his fist, absorbing the information. Today, he would confront Node 2—the unstable counterpart buried beneath the pines above the village. Until now, only he and a few flickering system notes knew that a second fragment existed. This morning, everything would change.
A soft footstep pulled his attention. Ryoko Shibata emerged from shadow, her coat pulled tight against the lingering chill. Her satchel strap cut across her chest, and in one hand she carried three sealed envelopes. She walked close, voice hushed.
"I've delivered your notes to their families," she said, nodding toward the village rooftops. "Yamada, Kana, and Takeshi each found an envelope on the breakfast table. They know to eat, do chores, and then remain at home until you return."
Souta's lips curved briefly in relief. "Good. They mustn't drift toward the ridge. Node 2's pull is nearly at the point where they'll sense it."
Ryoko's gaze flicked to the sigil in his palm. "Node 1 still resonates?" she asked.
He flexed his fingers. "Strong as ever. Without it, I wouldn't have the clarity I need." He paused, meeting her eyes. "Thank you for watching over them."
She exhaled, tension in her shoulders easing. "Just come back safely. If anything goes wrong, send me a signal. I'll be there instantly."
He gave a nod, appreciating her steadfast courage. No dormitory shuttles, no students gathered in uniform—just a teacher relying on a vice principal and three trusting families. That simple arrangement felt both fragile and precious.
With a final, silent farewell, Ryoko slipped away toward the first house on the village lane. Souta watched her headlamp vanish among the wooden eaves and cobblestones. Then he turned, stepping down the narrow stone steps that led into the forest's shadow.
The path into the pines rose steeply, bordered by trunks that soared overhead, their needles forming a soft carpet underfoot. Souta's sandals left near‐silent impressions as he climbed, mindful to keep pace slow and steady. The last hints of lantern-light faded behind him; only the faint blush of dawn guided his way.
A hush settled over the forest, deeper than the absence of wind. Here, at the edge of daylight, the pines seemed to lean closer, their silhouettes reaching into the dim. Souta let the rising tension in his chest match the hum under his boots—a vibration that grew stronger with every step. That hum was Node 2 calling him, its fragmented code stirring the earth beneath the roots.
He rounded a bend and entered a small clearing. There, half-submerged in moss and lichen, stood the fragmented stone marker of Node 2: a circular crest scored with deep fractures, veins of cobalt light tracing each crack. The lower half had crumbled into the earth, its glyphs barely visible against the roots that knotted around it.
For a heartbeat, Souta's breath caught in his throat. The forest's hush broke as he knelt beside the marker. He brushed away needles and wet moss to expose the jagged edges, then placed a gloved palm on the cold stone.
Immediately, the clearing's silence fractured.
First came the distant chime of a wind catcher in the village—its glass tubes spinning though no breeze stirred. Then a faint static whisper crackled from a radio left on in a nearby home. A dog's low growl echoed off the pines before cutting abruptly to silence.
Souta inhaled, awaiting the next anomaly. None came, and for a moment the world suspended between two breaths. He closed his eyes, grounding himself in the sigil's glow.
He summoned the HUD again:
[Node 2 Signal: 88 % – Fragmented, Unstable]
[Environmental Node Interference: High]
[Warning: Data Corruption Imminent]
The compass in his pocket began to spin, needles dancing as if freed from north. Souta's heart thudded in his chest; he pressed a gloved thumb to the marker and tapped a mental command.
Activate Stabilization Protocol—Node 2
A surge of cobalt light flared along the cracks, illuminating the clearing with a harsh brilliance. A cold fire ran through Souta's palm, forcing a gasp from his lips. His HUD flickered:
[Stabilization Progress: 20 % → 40 % → 60 %]
[Error: Data Fragmentation—Rebound]
Fragments of code—half‐written biosphere schematics, glimmers of distant star charts, the echo of half-spoken translations—flirted at the edges of his vision. They pulled at his mind, dissonant strands of an ancient system that refused to cohere. Souta clenched his teeth and endured the shock, determined to see the protocol through. Slowly, the fissures' glow dimmed, and the marker's hum fell away entirely.
A final hush descended—the forest's exhale marking the end of Node 2's thrumming. Souta's chest heaved as he let the shock recede. His HUD refreshed in his mind:
[Observer Signal—Terminated]
[Last Echo Received: 2025-06-11 04:23:07 JST]
[Node 2 Status: Fragmented—Awaiting Integration]
No "absorb" prompt appeared—only the termination notice. He opened his eyes and stared at the broken glyphs, realizing in that moment that the system had drawn Node 2's code out of the world, fragmenting it one final time before sleeping. There would be no direct merge here—instead, he would have to bring these fragments into the Growth Matrix itself.
He drew a steadying breath, letting the cleanness of the forest's hush settle around him. The anomalies had vanished: wind chimes were silent once more, the compass still, the dog's wary growl replaced by morning birdsong. Node 2 had returned to dormancy—its code snuffed out in the world but preserved for the next step.
Souta rose to his feet, brushing moss from his knees. He glanced at his palm-sigil, which glowed with the same steady light he had seen each morning. Node 1 waited within him, ready for the fusion that would complete the observer node.
"It begins in the Matrix," he thought, voice silent. "Not here."
He turned from the broken marker and began the descent, each step echoing against the rising dawn. The path back to Hoshinaka Village felt…the same, yet profoundly changed. In his mind, the gears clicked: next, he would enter the Growth Matrix Space, integrate Node 2's fragments with the code he carried, and awaken a fully realized observer form. Until then, the world around him remained ordinary—its mysteries confined to his palm and the hidden vaults of the system.