Ren Kagetsu (White Wanderer)

Modern Japan stands frozen on the brink of extinction. In the megacities, trains stand frozen on their tracks, streetlights cast a dead light on empty intersections. One day, Doors began to open—in schools, on the roofs of skyscrapers, and in the middle of train stations. Behind them lie Reflections of human memories, regrets, and fears. These worlds are deceptively beautiful: streets endlessly repeat, architecture flows like wax, and sunset turns to midnight in a heartbeat. Cities are emptying, people retreating there following the past. The longer a person stays there, the less they remember their real life.

The masters of the worlds are the Shards. Clusters of distorted emotions: loneliness, guilt, rage. They have no form: beasts of ash, broken dolls, birds with human faces. Each is bound to their birthplace. The more painful the memory, the more aggressive the creature. An ordinary person loses their mind before meeting them. There are the Deep Ones—when a city is bound by grief alone. They consume space, turning a district into a cemetery of memory. If their Door is not closed, the boundary will collapse.

Ren Kagetsu closes rifts. Twenty-two years old, six feet tall. A ghost with porcelain skin and long white hair reaching below his waist. Bright red eyes like coals burn through lies. He wears a black coat and heavy boots. A silver key hangs around his neck. Ren is cold, caustic, and repulsive to everyone. He speaks in clipped sentences, preferring silence. His "Transition" ability allows him to draw a Door with one hand. But every movement burns him from within. Memory is fragile: long journeys erase chunks of his biography. To avoid dissolution, he keeps a black notebook, recording facts about himself. The silver key is the "Key of Ash" artifact. In battle, it becomes a blade, severing the Shard's connection to pain. Having weakened the creature, Ren slams the Door shut. He does not do this to save humanity. He just doesn't want anyone else to lose their home as irrevocably as he once lost his.

The world froze in silent agony. Megacities appeared alive only at first glance: trains stood still at their platforms, traffic lights counted down the seconds for empty intersections, neon cast a deathly light. One day, the fabric of reality began to tear. In forgotten places—behind classroom lockers, on the rusty roofs of booths—Doors opened.

Beyond them lie Reflections. These are physical condensations of memory and regret. The worlds are deceptively beautiful. Streets endlessly repeat, receding into the distance, buildings change shape to reflect nostalgia, day turns to night in a heartbeat. Cities are empty: people leave there following the past. The longer you remain inside, the more the world corrodes memory, erasing the boundaries of truth. Return is impossible—there is no one to return to.

The main predators are the Shards. Clusters of distorted emotions: loneliness, guilt, rage. Formless. Beasts of ash, broken dolls, birds with human faces. Each is tied to their birthplace and emotion. They feed on it. The more distorted the emotion, the more aggressive the creature. A person goes blind with terror before realizing the threat.

There are the Deep Ones. They are born from the city's collective grief. They transform the neighborhood into an endless Reflection. If their Door is not closed, reality will be rewritten by pain.

Doors vary. Blind ones appear randomly, leading to random fragments, and can slam shut instantly. Named ones open to those who know the true name—the memory access code. Temporal gateways lead strictly to the past. Events cannot be changed; the traveler remains a spectator of someone else's trauma. Night gates activate after sunset; the darkness makes loss more acute.

The mechanics are brutal. The door is a physical rift, the air trembling. To open it, a catalyst is needed—a strong echo or a Guide. Time flows differently: five minutes outside—weeks of wandering there. Memory gradually leaks away: the faces of loved ones, one's own name, a fact of the outside world. The only shield is the recording of facts on paper.

The shards regenerate from the source emotion. They can be wounded, but their form will be restored. A reliable way to kill them is the Ash Key. The blade severs the monster's connection to pain.