The dirt roads leading to the labyrinth city of Orario are paved with the dreams of countless adventurers. Delta, the fourth node of the Architect, did not share that statistic.
He came from a remote agricultural village in the northern mountains. When the multiversal synchronization struck his mind at the biological age of fourteen—filling his head with the lethal equations of Ki, Haki, and Chakra—Delta did not proclaim that he would become a hero. His logic was purely structural: if he was going to be the vessel of a multiversal server constantly under threat, he needed the Falna of the gods to expand his organic hard drive, or his brain would collapse from overheating.
It was on that dirt road that he met Bell Cranel.
Bell was a white-haired, red-eyed boy from another rural village, traveling after the death of his grandfather. He talked endlessly about becoming a hero, rescuing girls in the dungeon, and living epic adventures. Delta had listened to him for three days of travel, maintaining his half-lidded expression and slouched posture, following the Latency Protocol.
"The mortality rate of heroes is statistically unacceptable, Bell," Delta had told him one evening beside the campfire. "If you save someone in the dungeon, make sure to charge them medical expenses. Heroism doesn't pay rent and consumes too many calories."
Bell laughed awkwardly, assuming Delta was simply cynical. But when bandits attempted to ambush them on the road, Bell froze in fear. Delta didn't shout or draw a weapon. He simply used a flicker of Beta's Jujutsu inertia to cause the three bandits to stumble into each other and tumble down a shallow ravine, breaking their legs. Afterward, Delta returned to his sleeping bag, complaining that the noise had woken him up.
They arrived in Orario together. Together they endured rejection from dozens of Familias that didn't want two novice farmers. And together, beneath the rain, they were accepted by Hestia, a penniless goddess who offered them a home in the basement of a ruined church.
Bell cried with gratitude, swearing eternal loyalty. Delta simply nodded, claimed the least damp corner of the church for his sleeping bag, and declared that from that moment on, the three-o'clock afternoon nap was sacred and non-negotiable.
Although they belonged to the same Familia and shared the scarce bread of breakfast, their paths inside the labyrinth diverged completely.
Bell chased excitement. After his near-death encounter with a Minotaur and being saved by Aiz Wallenstein, his growth exploded thanks to a skill born from his pure desire.
Delta, on the other hand, explored the dungeon under his own rules. Coordinating tactics with noisy novices felt like a logistical nightmare. While Bell raised his statistics by running for his life on the upper floors, Delta had descended to the 15th floor, forging a silent and lethal alliance with Ryuu Lion.
Three days had passed since the incident with the black-crystal Irregular Minotaur.
The Overclock Delta forced by combining the Doctrine of Instinct, the Black Syntax, and the internal discharge of Lightning had shattered his capillaries and nearly fried his nervous system. Ryuu had carried him out of the dungeon on her shoulders, her face pale with terror after seeing a Level 1 destroy himself from within just to protect her.
Now, in the basement of the ruined church, the dim light of an oil lamp illuminated the stone walls.
Bell was sleeping deeply on the sofa, completely exhausted after his own secret training.
Delta sat shirtless on a stool. His body still bore faint yellowish bruises from the internal friction of the Minotaur battle, although the shared regeneration of the multiversal network was erasing them at an unnatural speed. Behind him, Hestia, the small goddess with twin ponytails, sat on the bed, tracing lines across his back with a silver needle and a drop of her own blood to update his status.
Unlike Bell's soul, which shone with a pure white brilliance, Hestia always swallowed nervously when she looked at Delta's back. The information the Falna extracted from his body made no sense. It was like trying to read the source code of a divine anomaly. It registered impossible muscular tensions, evasions that defied time itself, and an accumulation of Excelia so dense the parchment seemed ready to catch fire.
Hestia finished updating the divine hieroglyphs and pressed the result onto a scroll. Her blue eyes widened.
She looked at Delta, who was nodding off, nearly falling asleep while sitting.
"Delta…" Hestia whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Your base statistics… Strength: SS1010. Endurance: SS1050. Dexterity: SSS1120. Agility: SSS1200. Magic: S980."
Delta opened one eye, lazily scratching his cheek.
"Acceptable numbers. Did the basal metabolism improve? It would help if I could process carbohydrates faster so I can sleep without feeling heavy."
Hestia smacked him lightly on the head with the scroll, exasperated by his complete lack of emotion.
"Don't be so indifferent, idiot! Reaching SSS rank before Level 2 is a myth! Not even the Sword Princess of the Loki Familia had these stats at your level! Killing that Irregular on the fifteenth floor broke the limits of your vessel!"
Delta sighed. He hated standing out. From the readings of the Sage, he knew that ever since the fifteenth floor, an oppressive divine gaze—Freya—had been scanning him from the top of Babel Tower. Standing out attracted the attention of gods, and gods were loud and troublesome.
"And there's more…" Hestia continued, her voice becoming serious and solemn. She looked directly into the tired dark eyes of her "child." She knew Delta never asked for anything, never demanded attention, but he always returned with high-value magic crystals so they wouldn't starve, and he always made sure Bell's knives were sharpened.
"You've gained enough high-quality Excelia by defeating a superior threat. Delta… you've fulfilled the prerequisite."
Delta slowly put his shirt back on, covering the remaining bruises.
"Level 2."
Hestia nodded vigorously, tears of pride forming in her eyes.
"I can initiate the Rank Up right now if you want. You'll gain a new development ability. Your body will be reborn at a higher level. You're about to stop being a rookie, Delta."
Any other adventurer would have shouted with joy. They would have gone drinking through Orario's taverns to celebrate their ascension to the realm of true warriors.
Delta buttoned his shirt, stretched until his back cracked softly, and walked toward his sleeping bag in the darkest corner of the basement.
"Great. Execute the Rank Up, Kami-sama," Delta said, dropping into the sleeping bag and closing his eyes instantly.
"A Level 2 body is better hardware. If my bone density and nerves upgrade, I'll be able to use Haki and Lightning with less internal friction. That means killing monsters will be less tiring and I can come home earlier."
Hestia stared at the lump on the floor, still holding the divine scroll. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly. She had a white-haired boy who attracted epic trouble for being too pure and heroic, and a dark-haired boy who was breaking the laws of physical reality simply because he wanted to optimize his sleeping hours.
The goddess sighed affectionately and stepped forward, beginning to weave the intricate magic of ascension over Delta's sleeping back.
The moment the Falna glowed, the seal broke.
Within the multiversal network of the Central Nexus, the base vessel had just expanded exponentially once again. Hardware restrictions collapsed.
In Japan, Gamma felt his sword grow lighter.
In Kuoh, Kappa felt his stamina reserves double.
In the dojo, Beta smiled in his sleep as he sensed his inertia limit shatter.
The Architect had taken his first certified step toward the summit of power—
and he had done it without losing a single minute of his sacred nap.