The Sanctum's trainee residential wing had gone quiet by the time Null returned. Evening light came through the tall arched window at a low angle, spreading across the stone floor in long pale bars.
His quarters were spartan. Bed, desk, bookshelf, narrow wardrobe, a small kitchenette that most trainees used to boil water and nothing else.
He removed his outer-wear, washed his hands, and tied his long white hair back loosely.
Tonight's ingredients sat neatly on the counter: mana-infused grain, bitter riverleaf greens, and a lean cut of firehorn stag— faintly marbled with red mana veins that shimmered if the light caught them right. Ember-pepper. Salt.
He lit the rune-stove with a flick of mana. It caught with a soft, steady hum.
His knife began slicing the venison into thin strips, an unbidden memory surfaced
— a cramped apartment kitchen, a flickering blue gas flame, and the sharp, comforting aroma of garlic hitting hot oil. Late at night. Some video game playing quietly in the background.
The knife paused mid-slice. A soft, unexpected chuckle escaped him. It was a rare, nostalgic sound. Then, the blade resumed its steady rhythm.
[Curious] The voice bloomed lightly within his mind. [You've done that twice.]
Null didn't look up. "Done what, Fantasy Omniscience-san."
[Smiled. While cutting meat.]
Null smirked, tossing the meat into a bowl with a pinch of coarse salt. "Ah. That."
[Is the ingredient quality of this world unsatisfactory?]
[Humor me.]
"Far from it, I was thinking about my last kitchen." Null said, reaching for a vial of crushed ember-pepper. "These ingredients are better, for what it's worth. My home didn't have magic. Vegetables grew from sunlight and dirt, untouched by supernatural interference. Here, the grain hums in your palm. That stag spent its life grazing on mana-saturated terrain."
He dropped the seasoned meat into the hot pan. It sizzled violently. "Back home, we had to coax flavor out of chemistry. Maillard reaction. Controlled caramelization. Fermentation. Entire industries dedicated to the science of making things taste good."
[And here?]
"Here the ingredients do half the work on their own." He flipped a strip midair with a deft flick of his wrist. "Objectively more powerful. Nutrient-dense. Mana-rich. Probably extends your lifespan if you eat the right cut."
[But?]
Null plated the seared meat alongside a scoop of grain. He picked up his fork, took a thoughtful bite. "But no one's thought to properly season any of it." He added the greens. "The Sanctum's food is medicine. It's recovery fuel. Flavor variance is treated as a secondary afterthought." He looked down at his plate. "This grain has more mystical potential than any rice I've ever eaten, yet no one has bothered to season it properly or fry it in high heat."
"Back home, someone spent twenty years perfecting one regional noodle dish. People traveled to eat it. That kind of obsession doesn't exist here yet."
[That you've found.]
"That I've found," Null leaned back against the counter,. "To be fair, my data pool is limited to field rations and cafeteria food. Hardly comprehensive."
[There are regions renowned for culinary mastery. The Atlantis Empire possesses advanced traditions that combine magical infusion with high aesthetic presentation. Particularly among the nobility.]
Null paused, fork halfway to his mouth. "Oh? Interesting. I'll have to evaluate future research opportunities."
[You mean dining.]
"Terminology varies."
He continued eating, his pace slowing as he enjoyed the quiet. The water ran softly as he eventually rinsed his plate, the mundane task anchoring him.
[Master,] the voice murmured gently. [You appear lighter when discussing food.]
Null stared into the sink for a moment. "Food is one of the few universal comforts across worlds," he said quietly. Then, he shook his head and dried his hands. "Besides, if I survive this trainee arc, I might as well revolutionize the culinary arts while I'm at it."
[...You intend to conquer battlefields and kitchens simultaneously?]
"Why limit my ambitions? Efficiency is key."
[Understood. I will begin compiling comparative seasoning matrices between Earth-based and mana-based ingredients.]
Null smiled, walking over to his desk. "Of course you will."
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He stepped away from the desk and flopped backward onto the bed with a soft thud. Draping one arm over his eyes while the other hung loosely off the edge, he let the silence settle.
When he finally turned his head toward the window, the sight made him pause.
This world's moon was climbing slowly above the Sanctum's towers. It was a colossal silver disc, easily a hundred times the size of Earth's moon, dominating the sky with an aggressive, unmissable brilliance. Its light poured across the stone floor like spilled milk, casting harsh, pale shadows.
Null stared at the glowing titan. "That thing still feels illegal."
[Its gravitational equilibrium is maintained through layered celestial mana currents,] Fantasy Omniscience replied.
"I know. It's still absurd."
He watched the moon climb, his thoughts drifting back to the afternoon—the casual banter with Sora and Illiana. His mind snagged on a passing detail. Illiana's teasing comment about a boy under pressure, a cultist raid, and a saved Saintess.
Null lowered his arm from his face. "Fantasy Omniscience-san."
[Yes, Master.]
"That boy Illiana mentioned. The one with the cultists."
[The one who overcame under duress and assisted the Saintess?]
"That one." He stared at the ceiling. "Why does that sound like a cliché trope straight out of an academy light novel?"
[It is a highly recognizable narrative pattern.]
Null's eyes narrowed. "So it's not just me."
[No.]
He exhaled. "Does that mean the guy is a protagonist? Do actual protagonists exist in this world?"
[Yes. They do.]
Null blinked, shifting to sit halfway up. "Seriously?"
[Affirmative.]
He ran a hand through his white hair, a mix of incredulity and dark amusement settling in his chest. "So it's that kind of setting. Am I trapped in a 'Fated Villain' scenario where those fortunate bastards known as 'heavenly children' roam around like rare commodities?"
Fantasy Omniscience went quiet. [Analyzing the mortal plane designated 'Earth.' Acquiring narrative data regarding 'I Am the Fated Villain.']
"Go on. I'll wait."
[...Acquisition complete. Cross-referencing cosmological patterns,] she reported. [These two fictions are incomparable, the parallels are non-existent.]
"Did you just use a fictional story to measure reality?"
The voice chose silence.
"Fantasy Omniscience-san. Don't avoid the question."
[Moving forward.]
He snorted. "Classic."
[In our cosmology,] she continued, [a world possesses only one protagonist per era.]
"Only one? So no endless swarm of golden luck parasites running around collecting cheat skills like festival prizes?"
[Negative.]
"A shame. I was already drafting anti-protagonist contingency plans."
[Unnecessary. They do not possess the exaggerated fortune of Earth-based web fiction. Treasures will not trip over themselves to land in their pockets, nor will events always unfold in their favor.]
"Reasonable," Null murmured.
[However, they possess an exceptional degree of narrative resilience.]
"Plot armor."
[To an extent. The label of 'protagonist' is not born of convenience. They bear a Supreme Destiny, interwoven with the world's survival. When a world faces internal decay, existential erosion or world-ending disaster, these individuals emerge as the fulcrum axis.]
Null listened intently now, the humor draining from his expression.
[They possess the unique potential to anchor turbulent chaos, preserving their realm and potentially elevating it. But victory is never guaranteed. They can fail.]
"And if they fail?"
[The world suffers consequences in accordance with the scale of their destiny. They are not blessed for comfort, Master. They are burdened for continuity.]
[They are often thrust into situations where they must confront overwhelming odds, yet they possess the intrinsic qualities that allow them to surmount those challenges. This makes them figures of admiration and hope in their realms.]
The room seemed quieter after that. "So Supreme Destiny doesn't mean personal glory."
[No. It means responsibility.]
A faint, sharp smile touched his lips. "That sounds significantly less glamorous than the web novels advertise. So what separates them from any other prodigy?"
[Trajectory. A standard genius alters local outcomes. A bearer of Supreme Destiny alters epochs. Wars, ideologies, and entire civilizations bend around their choices. They possess a literal gravitational pull within the narrative flow of the world.]
Null's gaze drifted back to the window. "And this boy Illiana brought up."
[Data is insufficient for a definitive match,] she conceded. [However, the parameters align perfectly with traditional awakening triggers: extreme psychological pressure, a symbolic target in peril, and a sudden manifestation of hidden power.]
"How troublesome," He lay back fully again.
[Do you feel threatened, Master?]
"Not particularly," he smirked. "I'm just trying to figure whether I'm about to be cast as the rival, background character, or the tragic early casualty."
[You assume you must fit a predetermined role.]
"Everything fits somewhere."
[Not everything.]
Null quieted, his dark red irises reflecting the harsh silver moonlight. "Tell me, Fantasy Omniscience-san. If each world only has one protagonist... what happens when an anomaly appears?"
The silence stretched long and heavy. [Define anomaly.]
"Someone who wasn't born into that world," Null said softly, the room turning faintly cooler. "Someone who was never part of its original design."
[Such an existence is categorized as a Variable.]
"Meaning?"
[They are unbound by the pre-established destiny threads. They can interfere.]
"With the protagonist?"
[With the world itself. Supreme Destiny ensures survival, but Variables introduces
uncertainty.]
Null let out a soft, low chuckle. His dark-red eyes flashed in the pale light. "Perfect. Chaos has always been more entertaining than order."
[Master,] the voice murmured, a subtle layer of complexity bleeding through her usual calm. [Your emotional state has shifted. I detect elevated amusement and curiosity.]
"How inconvenient," he shifted his weight. "Tell me one last thing. If this world already has its protagonist... what does that make me?"
Silence. Longer than any pause before it.
[Undetermined.]
Null laughed quietly, "Fair enough."
Abruptly, Null blinked rapidly. "Wait a minute—why am I lying here speculating when I literally have the ultimate cheat code for knowledge right in my head?"
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