Five in the morning after a night shift. Kenji Sato was rearranging the convenience store shelves again. "...There's the sale rice balls again today." With deep brown eyes, he picked up a two-pack of silken tofu. He checked the price and nodded. His black short hair still had bedhead. At forty years old, even these pointless movements accumulated small amounts of fatigue in his body. The buttons on his white shirt were undone down to the second from the bottom, and his sleeves were rolled up. The burn scar on his right hand—from the convenience store's fried food—was still a pale purple color. The shadows of sleep deprivation from nightly shifts hung thick under his eyes. Sometimes when he looked in the mirror, he felt as if he were gradually becoming transparent. Carrying plastic bags in both hands, he closed the final door. The cold morning air brushed against his face. The walk to the station was about 800 meters. As he walked, he tried to remember yesterday's sales, but immediately forgot. (How many years have I been here?) He didn't even feel like counting. Over twenty years since high school. Employment, job changes, unemployment. Somewhere, the gears had gone wrong. Or maybe they were broken from the start. Now he stood in this station-front convenience store for eight hours every night. His salary was 180,000 yen a month. It was manageable living alone. Nothing more, nothing less. His apartment was on the opposite side of the station. A wooden two-story building, thirty-five years old. The landlord was a good person, and the rent was cheap. Kenji, returning home in the morning, climbed the familiar stairs out of habit. The stairs to the second floor were dim. It was because the window was small. He grabbed the railing and took one step, then another. His shoes were light and made no sound. "...Ah." On the fourth step, his foot slipped. The reason was simple. The rain that had fallen last night had turned into morning dew seeping through the window. His foot suddenly flew through the air. The plastic bags in his hand were heavy. His body, losing its balance, was swallowed by blinding light. --- Consciousness returned when his face plunged into a grassy area. "Cough, cough!" The smell of soil. The acrid scent of grass. Sand in his ears. The ground where his body fell was soft and soaking wet. It might not have been morning dew, but night dew. Or perhaps it had rained. Kenji supported himself with both hands and lifted his face. A deep breath. He opened his eyes. "...Where is this?" Spreading around him was a dense primeval forest. Giant trees nearly fifty meters tall stood in rows. Their trunks were thick, their roots crawled across the ground, and at their clustered bases lay a small separate world. Light entered only through gaps in the canopy, and the forest floor was dim. The air was humid, and breathing alone made it feel like he was inhaling water into his lungs. (What is this......) Kenji pushed himself up. The plastic bag in his hand— It was there. Thirty centimeters in front of him, a single block of tofu lay fallen. The convenience store bag was torn, its contents scattered. Two rice balls, a 1.5-liter water bottle, bread for breakfast. Everything lay on the ground. Among them, only the tofu, miraculously unharmed, sat on the grass. Kenji stared at that tofu for thirty seconds without moving. (...Tofu?) A primeval forest. Tofu. His foot slipped on the stairs. Blinding light. Nothing connected. "Ah, you there!" Suddenly, a voice called out. Kenji's gaze rose. A figure emerged from the base of a tree. Young. Male. Probably in his twenties. He was wearing armor. Steel plating reflected in the morning sun. More figures appeared behind him. A woman. Also in her twenties. A sword hung at her waist. More figures beyond her. Three, four, five people. All of them were armored and armed. "Are you alright! Are you injured!" The first man came running. Kenji instinctively pulled back. "Uh, ah......" Words wouldn't come. What was this situation? Cosplay? Could this be a filming location for an anime about otherworld reincarnation or something......? "A transferee." One of the women murmured. Her tone carried something complex. "A transferee......?" "Yes, those who have been transferred from other worlds to this one. We too, just like you, once appeared suddenly in this world." The first man explained politely. His name was Theodore. He had apparently been a graduate student in engineering at a Japanese university. Now, as one of the transferees at a place called "the Fortress of Dawn," he was undergoing combat training. "Uh, um......" Kenji tried to digest the explanation. Another world. Transfer. Fortress. He understood each word individually. But when combined, his comprehension couldn't keep up. "Um, wait a second. So... does that mean monsters or something are trying to destroy the world?" According to Theodore's explanation, something called "the Void" was appearing through dimensional rifts. It was creating spaces called "erosion zones" that were rewriting the laws of the surrounding world. Various strongholds had been established as countermeasures, and the Fortress of Dawn was one of them. But almost none of it entered Kenji's head. "Uh, um... sorry." Kenji suddenly spoke up. "I'm hungry. Is there any food?" The faces of Theodore and the young warriors froze solid. "...Right after transfer, and that's what you ask about." One of the women murmured. Her voice carried exasperation. However, Theodore responded fairly straightforwardly with "Ah, I understand." He said they would prepare a meal once they reached the fortress. For now, Kenji, who didn't really understand the situation or the explanation, decided to just follow along. They walked deeper into the primeval forest. The ground beneath their feet was damp soil, and his shoes sank with each step. Theodore and the others moved with swift footsteps. The movements of experienced people. Kenji followed behind them, stumbling along. "Oh, that's right." Theodore suddenly turned back. "If I may ask, what is your name?" "Ah, Kenji. Kenji Sato." "Sato-san, I see. At our stronghold, transferees must always undergo a medical examination at the medical wing when they arrive, so..." That explanation too was something Kenji couldn't quite understand. He could only gather that these young people were apparently not dangerous entities. After walking for a while, the light in the primeval forest changed slightly. An open area came into view. --- At the outer edge of the primeval forest stood the Fortress of Dawn. A fortress surrounded by stone walls. A circular stone fortress perhaps two hundred meters in diameter. In its center stood a tower exceeding twenty meters in height. On top of it, something that looked like observation equipment was installed. From inside came the sound of smithing. Intense and rhythmic. Clanging sounds. And the shouts of training. Mixed male and female voices, "Ha!" "Ha!" echoing out. Sentries stood on the fortress walls. Two men. When they saw Theodore's group, they raised their hands. Then a thick wooden door opened. Wow, it's real. Kenji couldn't help but think so. (This... is real.) Not an anime. Not a movie. An actual structure existed before his eyes. The interior of the fortress was more lively than he'd imagined. Young warriors swung swords in the training grounds. In the smithy, an elderly craftsman struck glowing red iron. From the dining hall wafted a savory aroma. There were probably over a hundred people. Everyone was moving with purpose. Living. Alive. Kenji, seeing that sight, finally felt it. (This... isn't a dream.) He felt faint. "Sato-san. This way." Theodore guided him deeper into the fortress. They passed through several buildings and headed toward a tall tower. Inside was someone of elder status in the fortress, apparently. The interior of the tower was composed of stairs. Round and round, up and up. Twenty steps, thirty steps. Kenji's legs were already heavy. The fatigue from the night shift and this incomprehensible situation were eating away at both his body and mind. They reached the top floor. There stood an old man. "A transferee has appeared?" His voice was deep and heavy. Theodore introduced Kenji. During the process, the matter of age came up. "Forty years old?" Theodore's voice rose in confirmation. At that moment, the old man's eyebrows rose slightly. "Hmm. That's a rare age among transferees. The possibility of being a gift-bearer is..." The rest of the explanation was almost completely lost on Kenji. What was a "gift"? Why might he have some kind of power? He had no idea about the reasons or basis. He could only sense from the old man's words that something was being expected of him in this place. (Expectation... huh.) Kenji felt the weight of that expectation while wearing a forced smile. What could an old man like him expect from someone like me... what could I possibly do? --- Evening came. The fortress dining hall "Susugarado." This was the communal dining facility used by all fortress personnel. The tables were long, capable of seating over thirty people at once. Now, Kenji sat alone at a corner table. Before him was a ceramic bowl filled with forest mushroom stew. It had a rich color and gave off an appetizing aroma. He picked up the black bread as a side and took a bite. Several of the young warriors nearby approached and asked things like "Are you a transferee?" and "Where are you from?" with keen interest. Kenji gave short replies each time: "Japan," "I'm forty years old." Then he immediately returned to eating. The conversation didn't continue. Of course it didn't. They had lived in different worlds. Different experiences. Different ages. He couldn't think of any common topics. Eventually, the young warriors lost interest in Kenji and turned their attention elsewhere. Kenji continued eating the forest mushroom stew alone. The broth was rich, the mushroom flavor deep. It was delicious. Yet even that deliciousness felt like someone else's experience. The energy of the young people around him and his own loneliness. That gap quietly pierced his heart. --- Night. The transferee residential building. A wooden two-story structure. Individual rooms were about four tatami mats. A bed, a desk, a window. That was all. The walls were thin, and sometimes he could hear sounds from the adjacent room. Kenji lay on that modest bed, staring up at the ceiling. He gazed at the wooden grain marks, barely visible. (What is this situation?) This morning, he'd been doing the night shift accounting at the convenience store. He'd slipped on the stairs. Blinding light. A primeval forest. Another world. A fortress. Expectant gazes. He couldn't precisely understand what had happened. But it was certainly real. Kenji slowly closed his eyes. In his mind, he quietly reflected on his life. After high school graduation, employment. The company he'd joined as a new graduate, he'd quit after six months. The reason was that he didn't get along with his boss. After that, he'd changed jobs repeatedly. Sales, manufacturing, clerical work, food service. None of them lasted long. Something was always missing. Something never quite fit. Eventually, even job hunting itself became tedious. Convenience store work was fine—minimal human relationships, a fixed monthly salary. He'd convinced himself that was enough. But really, something was different. Something about his life wasn't what it should be. He'd never been expected by anyone. He'd never been needed by anyone. He'd carried that sense of lack his entire life. Now, transferred to this other world, he'd finally been bathed in the word "expectation." A gift-bearer transferee. Potential to be active in the fortress. Those words were pleasant to hear. But (What could I possibly do?) That question echoed in the depths of