The large door of a technological room—lined with dozens of glowing keys—slammed open, and a young man rushed inside, clutching his injured arm. He shut the door behind him using a card.
Just as he was about to sit and catch his breath, a sound came from the console at the center of the room.
He fired toward the source of the noise, but nothing was actually there.
"Damn it… wasted a bullet," the young man muttered between breaths.
This time moving slower and calmer, he walked up to the console.
There was a corpse slumped in the chair. It wasn't human—more like some humanoid species with six insect-like eyes. Definitely not human.
He pushed the corpse aside and sat down.
The screen displayed dozens of cameras. Half were broken, and the rest showed corridors crowded with tens—maybe hundreds—of insectoid soldiers of the same race as the corpse.Only one camera showed the room he was currently in.
The young man smirked at his own reflection on the screen."Well… who's this handsome white-haired guy?"
He chuckled at his own joke, then closed the cameras and opened the main interface.
From the pouch attached to his belt, he pulled out a laser cutter and tossed it toward the screen. The tool spun midair and shot toward the screen's edge with uncanny precision. Impossible as it looked, he had grown used to such tech.
While the laser sliced through the screen frame, he grabbed one of the many keyboard consoles in the room and ripped it out. Some keys broke off, but it didn't matter. He preferred single-alphabet classical keyboards anyway—he didn't need a monstrous 250-key device. Thirty-something keys were more than enough.
He carefully placed the keyboard into his dimensional pouch, sighed, and leaned back. Removing the whole screen would take a while.
Long ago, he had lived peacefully and happily on the planet Earth. But when he realized that world wouldn't survive the apocalypse, he endured three years of chaos before stepping through a white portal into another world.
Ever since then, his ability had worked better than ever.Still, thinking about that now wouldn't help anything.
For years, he had wandered the apocalypse alone, searching for peace. And somehow—despite all odds—he had found it.Yes, saying that while hiding in a technological, apocalypse-ridden space fortress with an army hunting him sounded ridiculous… but he had found peace.
Temporary peace, but peace nonetheless. And that was enough.
Remembering old memories, he sighed and stood up.They reminded him of his family.His memories of them were terrible. He couldn't remember whether they had been awful people or whether they had died horribly.All he knew was that the memories were awful—because in his second year of the apocalypse, he had chosen to erase every memory he had of them.He trusted his past self's judgment; it had probably been the best choice.But… who could say?Sometimes the thought still gnawed at him.
Just like right now…
…
"Today wasn't supposed to be terrible…"
…
He sighed again.
He was bored.
He pulled a healing potion from his pouch and poured it over his bleeding arm.
As the wound slowly closed, he took out another weapon—a katana.
Katanas were cool. And fighting with one would help chase away the boredom.
He'd go out, fight a little, and enjoy himself. Sure, losing would be disastrous—but the risk only made things more fun.
He opened the door with his card and dashed forward, slicing off the head of the first humanoid he encountered.
Then another. And another.
He had beheaded three in an instant—but things were never that easy. Eight more swarmed him.
At that moment, the young man looked doomed… but at the last second, he brought his mouth to his pouch and grabbed something.
The inside of the pouch was pitch black—a kind of enchanted shoulder bag that returned whatever item the user imagined. It also contained a larger dimensional space inside.It was, without question, his most precious possession.
The thing he had popped into his mouth was a pill—blood-red with gold streaks.
As soon as he swallowed it, his eyes turned crimson. Power surged through his body. His speed and strength exploded.
This was a special berserker pill. These pills were famous across countless planets, and the special ones—like this—were crafted by Dr. Monious. He had invented all berserker pills, though greed had driven him to release the recipes for the basic versions. The ones he made himself were still considered "special-grade."
With such a pill, the insects had no chance of overpowering him.
He tore through them with all his boosted strength and speed, red-eyed and exhilarated.
Then a tougher soldier stepped forward.
One of the eight wore darker armor and had a seventh eye. Somehow, it parried the young man's strike—and even launched a counterattack.
He barely dodged. A shallow cut appeared on his cheek, and a few drops of his blood scattered through the air.He was used to seeing blood—but not his own. He'd have to repay that.
Perhaps it was time to use that ability…
The white-haired young man smirked faintly. His face wasn't even turned toward the soldier, and he wasn't actually smiling.
The insectoid soldier wondered, What is this idiot doing?, and swung its blade.
The sword passed straight through the young man's body. His silhouette flickered—and vanished like a fading hallucination.
A second later, something sharp slashed at the soldier's neck from behind.
It barely managed to block with its hand, but its arm was torn open, blood spraying.It leapt aside, several fingers severed. Blocking with its hand had been stupid—but it hadn't had another choice.
As it backed away, it drew a glowing blue rune-patterned weapon from its belt and fired.
No bullet came out—just a thin laser-like line that flashed and vanished.
The young man didn't move.He wasn't hurt either.Wait—no, he was gone again. His image flickered out of existence.
The insectoid soldier seized the moment, grabbing a device from its belt—a communicator.
It reported that the "crazy bastard" was still here.
They had never sent the whole army after him, because he never stayed in one place for long. But it seemed this time… he actually wanted to fight.
At least—that's what the soldier thought.
--
When the young man returned to the laser still cutting through the screen, he saw it was nearly done. Since the screen was too big to fit in his pouch, he simply grabbed the laser cutter instead.
He'd stolen enough from this technological apocalypse for now; he could give up on this short fight. The berserker pill's effects were fading anyway.
The young man flickered and vanished with the large screen.
He had stolen this massive display from the alien insects and taken it far, far away.
Inside a wooden-floored house, he had gathered countless strange items.
Odd arcade machines from Victorian-themed worlds, stunning art pieces from a world ruled by art-loving dinosaurs, award trophies from various minigame worlds—none bearing his name, but that didn't matter. A trophy was a trophy.
Though the house looked small from the outside, the interior had been enlarged with dimensional magic.
The windows all opened to the same view—lush green grass, beautiful bell-like trees that weren't really bell trees, and a waterfall.
Now this was peace.
Eventually, he reached a room with no more doors, set down the massive screen, and placed the keyboard on the floor. Like all his treasures, they were stolen from other worlds. Piece by piece, he built himself a paradise.His paradise.
He even had a couple of servant robots he had stolen from somewhere else. They would probably know how to install the screen, he thought. Smiling at the idea, he opened the wooden door and left, intending to sit by the waterfall outside.It was relaxing there.
Collecting beautiful things from every world seemed charming at first… but when dozens of mismatched styles piled together, the house started looking chaotic. Outside felt better.
He stepped out of the house and looked at the sign on the door.
"Luner's Heaven."
Every letter was made in a different style—one technological, one carved into a historical tablet, one magical, one scribbled on taped paper.
His name didn't appear anywhere else—only on the sign he passed every time he entered or left.
As Luner walked toward the waterfall, a single tear rolled down his cheek.
He asked the "Voice," as he did every day.He didn't know why.Maybe it had something to do with his family.
"Voice… what's the name of my ability?"
After a long silence, a clever-sounding, mature male voice echoed from the sky.
"You already know, but fine… tradition is tradition. Your ability is called Noah's Ark.And for your ego's sake, here's a reminder: you're the only interdimensional traveler. No one else has a power that can cross dimensions. So instead of crying—try being proud."
Yet for some reason, Luner couldn't stop the tears. He wasn't crying, but his eyes kept producing them for no reason.Why?Had he forgotten something…?
He wanted to escape these thoughts.
Maybe he should stop asking about his ability every day. Why did he even do that…?Then again—whatever. He just wanted to get away from everything for a while.Thinking made him feel terrible.