That night, the sky was particularly clear. The full moon hung like a silver beacon over the city, casting its light between buildings and reaching all the way to my room. The glow reflected on my laptop screen made my eyes sting slightly but I didn't care.
I had spent the last hour researching what my previous world had in common with this one and realized something intriguing: a lot was missing. Series, movies, music, games... as if an entire universe of ideas had simply ceased to exist.
Probably, the fact that this world revolved around heroes caused most people's minds to orbit that same axis. As if collective creativity had been channeled into a single escape route heroism preventing many from exploring the full potential of their imagination.
Before I could dive deeper into those thoughts, a sudden sensation ran through my mind. A faint click, like a mental shiver. And then, a translucent window materialized before my eyes.
[Mission Unlocked]
Name: Innovative Voice
Category: Public Recognition
Objective: Participate in a school or community event with an original project that receives official mention in the media.
Progress: 0 / 1 media mentions
Reward: New Skill: Accelerated Mind
Your thought speed will be multiplied by 5, allowing near-instantaneous reasoning and decision-making.
Time Limit: 30 days (real time)
Success Criteria: The project must be cited by name, and you must be identified as its main creator.
System Note:
"Great ideas are lightning flashing in an instant, gone the next. Command the storm."
I closed the panel with a soft click of my tongue, thoughtful. This was, without a doubt, a direct push from the system. And this time, there was no ignoring it.
"Innovative Voice, huh?" I murmured, leaning back in my chair.
It was curious. The system always aligned with something I was already on the verge of doing as if it read my intention before it had even fully formed. And this time, it was clear: I had to create something. Something that stood out not for spectacle, but for the idea.
Then I remembered a message in the school group chat one I had ignored out of laziness earlier. A themed project was being organized by the elementary classes. Each group had to present something "original, relevant, and socially impactful."
I smiled.
It was perfect.
Most would probably focus on support apps for heroes or safety gadgets. But maybe it was time to present something different. Something that brought people together in a simple, fun way—without relying on powers or status.
Something like... Among Us.
In my previous world, that simple little game captivated millions. It was social, accessible, fun and above all, creative. And in this world, where everything had to be grand and dramatic, maybe the charm was precisely in simplicity.
I opened a new tab on my laptop and started sketching out the basic structure: design, roles, visual elements. Nothing too complex I didn't want a clone, but a reinterpretation. Something that would feel new in this world.
In my mind, the name sparked to life.
"Sakura Suspects."
Set in a village surrounded by flowers, the game would place players amid preparations for a traditional festival... except for one detail: someone was sabotaging everything. An impostor among friends. Simple, colorful, symbolic.
I grabbed an old notebook and began sketching the map, the stylized characters, sabotage events, and tasks. I drew small festival booths, preparation areas, hiding spots, and social interaction spaces. I imagined tasks like "arrange flowers for the parade," "tune band instruments," "light lanterns" and the sabotaged versions of each.
My brain fired connections by the second. In a few hours, I already had enough to draft a pitch and start developing the game directly on my laptop.
For a moment, I considered asking someone to help. But the idea died just as quickly.
Trusting other kids with something like this... would be a waste of time.
Most were still trapped in the Quirk bubble, into flashy games and fleeting trends. Few would understand what I wanted to create and even fewer would have the patience or discipline to truly contribute.
Besides, working alone was simpler. More direct. No distractions. No surprises.
I would do it all. Alone. Art, code, sound, narrative. I would bring that idea to life.
And when it was ready... I'd find a way to present it. Convincing a teacher to let me show the game at the school event would be just one more step. Nothing I couldn't handle.
I closed the laptop and stood up. It was past midnight, and the next day promised to be long.
But even lying in bed, my thoughts wouldn't quiet.
Accelerated Mind.
The reward echoed in the back of my head. Thinking five times faster. Reasoning almost in real-time. It sounded like a superpower... and in a way, it was.
With that, I could anticipate moves in a fight, devise plans in seconds, analyze complex situations with near-divine clarity. But... at what cost?
Would the world around me start to feel slow? Conversations dragging, classes dull, people... predictable? What if I began drifting away from everything and everyone, trapped in a mental rhythm no one else could match?
Thinking fast isn't the same as thinking right.
I could become cold. Impatient. Unable to connect. I might start seeing everything as calculation, everything as variables. And honestly, that scared me more than any villain.
But there was another side to it.
I could try to control it. Find a way to master the skill and still keep my essence.
I closed my eyes.
And let the anticipation for what was to come lull me to sleep.
The next morning, I woke to the buzz of the alarm. The sky was still a pale blue, and the first rays of sunlight were beginning to warm the city. I stretched slowly, feeling the accumulated tension in my shoulders.
I headed down for breakfast. My parents were in the kitchen my dad, reading the news on an old tablet; my mom, handling some freshly picked herbs from the backyard.
"You're up early," my mom commented, not looking up from the tea she was preparing. The aroma was sweet, with a floral touch. "Were you studying last night?"
"Something like that," I replied, grabbing a slice of bread and putting it in the toaster.
My dad made an approving sound. "Good to see you motivated. Thinking about joining that school project?"
I hesitated for a second. I hadn't said anything yet.
"Maybe. I'm thinking of doing something different."
"As long as it doesn't involve you trying to fix hero security with some wild invention, it's fine," he said, laughing. "Leave that madness to the U.A. crowd."
I smiled faintly. If only they knew...
I finished breakfast and went back to my room. As soon as I shut the door, I powered on the laptop and dove back into the project. A lot was already done: the game's skeleton, task systems, impostor logic, visual events.
The first versions were rough. The characters looked like doodles with legs, the sounds were pulled from public audio libraries. But it didn't matter. The idea was alive pulsing, growing. And that was enough.
During every break between classes, I typed nonstop. At lunch, I drew icons on paper. At night, I coded until my eyes burned.
And then, with one week left until the event, the game was functional. It still needed polish, but the main systems were running: lobby, tasks, sabotage, voting.
Time for the next step.
I waited until after class and headed to the teachers' office. I knew Mr. Takayama the school's oldest teacher often stayed longer, grading papers or managing the clubs.
I knocked on the door.
"Come in," said the tired voice.
I entered cautiously, laptop in hand like a relic.
"Professor, do you have a minute?"
He looked up from his papers and adjusted his glasses.
"Of course, Haruki. Something wrong?"
"I'd like to present something at the event. I'm not in any group... but I want to show a game I made."
Takayama raised an eyebrow, curious.
"A game? By yourself?"
I nodded, opening the laptop on the table in front of him.
"It's called Sakura Suspects. It's a collaborative experience. Has narrative, strategy, social interaction. And... it's completely original."
The start screen appeared with a flowery background, a stylized logo, and simple but catchy ambient music. The teacher stayed silent for a few seconds, watching intently.
"You made this... alone?"
"I did. Code, art, sound, everything. But my parents voiced a few characters."
He scratched his chin and gave a light sigh almost a smile.
"I'll see what I can do. It's different from what the other students are preparing, but... that's not necessarily a bad thing."
"Thank you, professor," I replied with a slight nod, leaving the room.
As soon as the door closed behind me, the system flashed:
[Mission Progress Updated]
Presentation confirmed at school event.
Progress: 1 / 1 scheduled presentation
Time remaining: 6 days until the event
I was in.
Now, all that was left was... to impress.
And with a little luck or strategy get the media's attention too.