Inside the Herta Space Station...
Within the Supply Zone, a young man with tousled black hair, yellow eyes and thin-rimmed glasses sat alone on a bench. His name was Eidan.
He yawned, one hand lazily rubbing his eye as he stared blankly ahead. To the casual observer, it looked as though he was simply zoning out—but from Eidan's perspective, a translucent screen hovered in front of him, filled with data streams and system prompts.
At least, that's how it should have been.
In reality, there was nothing. No system. No stats. No missions. Just empty air.
Still, Eidan stared.
Eventually, he sighed and leaned back against the bench, adjusting his glasses with the practiced motion of someone who'd done it far too often. He tilted his head, eyes wandering across the vast ceiling above, lost in thought.
Once, he had wondered if he was meant to be the protagonist of a grand tale—a chosen one armed with a powerful system, or a a mc who destined to die and resurrect through endless arcs. But now?
Now, he was just Eidan. Normal. Terminally normal.
When he first woke up on this world, he wasn't aligned with any Path—no Hunt, no Destruction, not even the more obscure ones. A blank slate. A civilian.
Still, he tried. For months, he chased those Paths, hoping to stumble into some cosmic plotline. But life had other plans.
Now, he worked under Asta.
His official role? That was... complicated.
Unofficially, he was her "professional opinion." Whenever Asta couldn't decide between two things—be it equipment, decorations, or snacks—she'd turn to him, eyes full of hope, and ask: "Which one should I pick?"
And with all the wisdom in the universe, Eidan would reply: "Why not both?"
If you're wondering who Asta is, well—she's not your typical heiress. Not like the cartoonishly rich aristocrats from Earth.
She's rich. Galactically rich.
He still remembered the day she came to him, distraught after being scammed on a purchase. Curious, Eidan asked how much she'd lost.
She thinking for a moment before showing him the transaction. His eyes widened.10,800,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 credits.
So many zeros. So much absurdity.
Naturally, he asked what she had tried to buy.
Her answer?
A discounted planet that supposedly contained extinct animals.
Eidan almost choked. "Discounted?! That's not a discount—that's an astronomical ransom with a 'SALE' tag slapped on it!"
In that moment, he realized something vital.
Asta wasn't upset about losing the money. No—she didn't even care about the sum. What irked her was that she had been scammed. And so, Aiden vowed to support her, if only to prevent another galactic-scale impulse buy.
She was, without question, a genuine ojou-sama.
And Eidan? Well, he might not be a system-blessed protagonist... but at least he had a job.
Yes Job....
Eidan leaned back on the bench, sighing. The metal creaked slightly under his weight as he slouched further, eyes half-lidded and mind drifting into another day of cosmic monotony.
Suddenly, something poked his cheek.
He blinked, slowly turning his head.
It was Peppy—Asta's energetic dog—staring up at him with wide, curious eyes and his tail already wagging.
"Oh, Peppy. What's the matter?" Eidan asked, lifting a hand to pat the little creature.
"Woof," came the reply.
"Yeah… I know. My life's decent," Eidan muttered with a tired smile, gently ruffling Peppy's fur. He wasn't sure what Peppy had really said, but it sounded comforting. Or at least, he wanted to believe it was.
"Woof," Peppy barked again, more insistently this time.
"You hungry?" Eidan asked, scooping the dog up into his arms.
"Woof!" Peppy barked—then promptly shook his head.
"Huh? So... not hungry?" Eidan frowned, setting him back down. He stood and stretched, arms rising above his head with a groan.
"Woof woof!" Peppy barked, tail wagging faster now.
"You want to play?"
"Woof woof!" Peppy hopped excitedly in place, confirming the guess.
Eidan smiled faintly. "Alright... so you want to play."
He glanced around the Supply Zone, scanning for something—anything—they could use. Then he noticed it: a small rubber ball clutched in Peppy's mouth.
Peppy dropped it at Eidan's feet, tail wagging in anticipation.
Eidan stared at the ball... then at the dog... then back at the ball.
"Wait a second... why do I get the feeling I'm the one being played here?"
Still, with a resigned chuckle, he bent down and picked it up. The open space nearby gave him plenty of room, so he casually tossed the ball—not too hard, just enough for Peppy to chase.
The ball bounced once... then rolled forward...
...just as one of Herta's autonomous dolls stepped into its path.
Bonk.
The ball smacked the doll right on the head.
Herta's voice—clear, annoyed, and utterly unimpressed—came from the doll's speaker. "Hey! Who's trying to damage my doll?"
Before the doll could react, Peppy shot forward, tackling her legs. The collision knocked the Herta doll to the ground with a mechanical thud.
Eidan stood frozen for a moment, wide-eyed. Then—very, very slowly—he began backing away.
With the utmost nonchalance, he turned and walked in the opposite direction.
A few minutes later...
Eidan stepped out of the elevator into the Master Control Zone, his expression calm and composed, as though nothing unusual had happened mere moments ago.
He spotted Asta not far off—standing near one of the consoles, dressed as elegantly as always. Her pink hair shimmered under the artificial lighting.
She turned as he approached and greeted him with a warm smile.
"Good morning, Eidan."
"Good morning, Miss Asta," he said with a polite nod.
Asta frowned slightly, arms crossing. "Didn't I already tell you to stop with the formal talk? Aren't we friends?"
"…Yes… Asta," he replied, hesitating just slightly. But she was still technically his boss.
Asta nodded, satisfied. "Much better."
Then, her expression shifted into mild concern. "By the way, have you seen Peppy? I couldn't find him this morning when I went looking."
Eidan blinked. The scene from earlier flashed vividly in his mind—the doll getting beaned in the head, the ball, Peppy tackling it…
If he admitted he'd seen Peppy, Herta might find out. And if she knew, she'd absolutely use this as an excuse to experiment on him again.
He shivered.
Why did she do that? Well… technically, when they first discovered him, he was drifting in space, they found him unconscious—floating like cosmic trash.
And yet somehow, inexplicably, alive.
Herta had been fascinated ever since. "How are you alive with no oxygen and no suit?" she'd asked while holding a scalpel.
He didn't know. Maybe it was beginner's luck. Or… some kind of cosmic newbie spawn protection.
Lost in anxious thought, he didn't notice Asta staring at him until she spoke again.
"Eidan?"
He snapped back to reality. "Ah—sorry, I was just trying to recall something."
"Is that so?" Asta tilted her head, but didn't press.
"Well... I did see Peppy earlier. He should still be in the Supply Zone," Eidan said, forcing a casual tone.
"Ah, thank you!" Asta beamed. "I'll go check."
And with that, she turned and walked away.
Eidan glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Asta vanish behind the closing doors of the elevator.
"Well, time to head back to my room," he muttered.
Turning on his back, he walked toward the other elevator at the far end of the corridor. A quiet hum greeted him as the doors opened, and moments later, he arrived at a different floor—one of the quieter residential wings.
Stepping out, he let out a yawn and stretched.
Wait... wasn't the Astral Express supposed to arrive today?
He stopped in his tracks, arms folding across his chest as he frowned thoughtfully.
Yeah, it should be today. That'd make it the third time they've stopped here since I arrived.
So far, nothing catastrophic had happened—no Antimatter Legion incursions, no Stellaron corruption, not even a stray Warp Trotter crashing into a vending machine.
Maybe I just arrived early in the story, he thought with a shrug.
But just as he took his next step—
BWOOP! BWOOP!
The emergency alarm blared through the hallway, and the floor rumbled violently beneath him. Lights flickered. The station trembled.
Eidan froze. His expression went flat.
"…Oh. My mouth," he muttered, realizing the terrible truth. "I jinxed it."
He immediately spun on his back and bolted back toward the elevator.
"Come on, come on—" he mashed the call button repeatedly. Nothing. No response.
"…Seriously? That fast?" He backed away as sparks crackled from a nearby light fixture.
With the elevators disabled, there was only one option left: Run. Find cover. Survive.
He sprinted down the corridor, heart pounding.
I don't even have a weapon! he thought bitterly. What am I gonna do? Punch a Voidranger with my glasses?!
He rounded a corner at full speed—only to freeze as a Voidranger materialized just ahead of him, emerging from a shimmer in the air like a nightmare made solid.
"Fff—My mouth again!" Eidan shouted, already turning and running the other way.
He glanced over his shoulder. The Voidranger had noticed him. Its eyes—glowing with a cold, merciless light—locked onto his form. Its long, bladed arm gleamed under the flickering hallway lights as it broke into a sprint.
This is not fair. Who said anything about RNG difficulty spikes?!
Eidan's lungs burned as he ran. Where's a Warp Trotter when I need one to trip over and distract this thing?!
Eventually, he skidded to a stop.
Dead end.
No exit. No cover. No miracle.
Just steel walls and one very serious mistake.
"…Damn it."
His breathing slowed.
The air grew heavy.
Behind him, the Voidranger advanced, blade-arm raised. But Eidan didn't move.
Instead, he slowly turned around to face the enemy.
He clenched his fists.
His gaze sharpened.
He took a deep breath.
And said, with deadly sincerity:
"May I join the Antimatter Legion?"
The Voidranger froze mid-step.
A long silence settled between them. Eidan didn't blink.
If I can't beat them… maybe I can job-switch into them, he reasoned. Better to become the danger than get stomped by it, right?
The Voidranger tilted its head, clearly baffled.
This human... had been terrified moments ago. Now, he stood his ground, asking to join them? Was this a strategy? A trap? Or just pure idiocy?
Neither moved.
Only silence.
And the very faint sound of another alarm bell chiming somewhere above.
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(A/n: nothing)