Honkai Impact 3rd: Yumeji Satsuki's lies

Vague.

The first sensation Yumeji felt when he sluggishly opened his heavy eyelids after waking from his dream wasn't pain or exhaustion. Instead, it was a slight dizziness, as if he had just awoken from an overly long sleep, causing his body to lose its sense of time.

Yumeji then glanced around, trying to gather as much information as possible to interpret his current condition through his senses.

A stark white room.

An unfamiliar ceiling reflected a soft light, yet it brought no warmth.

In the air, the faint scent of antiseptic mixed with the synthetic smell of medical equipment. Just by looking at this scene, Yumeji could already confirm where he was.

He was in a hospital room—one he didn't recognize, but he was fairly certain it was under Schicksal's jurisdiction.

His gaze swept across the room, taking in every small detail. The modern medical devices of Schicksal emitted steady beeping sounds, as if they were measuring his very existence. Right beside his bed, an IV bag hung suspended, and on his left arm, a bandage remained untouched, with the needle's mark still clearly visible.

He pondered for a moment, trying to recall his past memories. He had been stabbed by that bitch Sin Mal, lost too much blood, and then passed out. In his hazy state, it seemed he had been brought onto the Hyperion for emergency treatment before being transferred to this hospital for recovery. And if he wasn't mistaken, he had also been saved thanks to Kiana donating her own blood to him.

That was the last thing he remembered before completely losing consciousness.

Damn it. Getting tangled in a life debt with that idiot Kiana left him feeling uncomfortable, like something was stuck in his throat.

He let out a sigh before beginning to review and organize everything that had happened to him.

"Aghh..."

A raspy groan escaped his lips. His throat was dry and burning. His chest still ached with each breath, and his entire body felt stiff, as if it had been frozen for a long time. Clearly, his injuries hadn't fully healed yet.

But despite all of that—

"So… I'm still alive?"

Surviving a situation that should have been fatal always felt strange. There was no victory, no joy—only an indescribable emptiness.

Yumeji blinked again, intending to close his eyes and stabilize his thoughts, but at that moment—

[YOU HAVE RECEIVED A SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

A pale blue notification panel suddenly appeared before his vision. White text surfaced, as if an invisible voice was announcing something momentous:

[You have completed the main storyline quest: "Xuanyuan Sword."]

[You have received the reward: Rank A+ Skill - "Karma," as a commendation from the administrators for your performance.]

Yumeji frowned slightly.

"…What the hell is this?"

The System. It was something he was already familiar with. But this time, something felt… different.

Rank A+?

Until now, every skill he had received from the System had been within the Rank B range or lower. A skill of this caliber was something he had never even considered.

But before he could dwell on it further, another notification appeared:

[Would you like to accept the skill "Karma"?]

→ [YES] / [NO]

…That same old forced-choice style of notification.

Yumeji scowled slightly. He hated being put in situations like this, especially when he wasn't even fully awake yet.

The choice seemed simple. But… something felt off.

Karma.

Just hearing the name alone reeked of danger.

He had heard of the word before. A concept of causality, of fate. A representation of the invisible ties between actions and consequences.

But what unsettled him the most was—what kind of skill was this exactly?

There were no descriptions. No notes, no details. Just a brief notification, presenting him with a choice whose consequences he couldn't predict.

Yumeji sat quietly, lost in thought for a moment.

Until now, every skill he had received from the System was automatically acquired upon selecting a reward or picking a skill—there had never been an option involved. But this time was different. The System was letting him decide.

Why?

A cold shiver ran down his spine.

A vague instinct told him that if he accepted this, something would change. Not just a simple new skill. But perhaps… something far more fundamental.

What was the price?

There was no answer.

Yumeji felt his fingers tremble slightly as he raised his hand. This was, undeniably, just a simple choice. Just a single press of a button.

—'But should I press it?'

Time passed in silence. A moment suspended between decision and hesitation.

…And then, he sighed.

He wasn't the type to overthink things. If the System had set this up, then he would accept it. No matter what the outcome—

He selected [YES].

[Confirming acquisition of skill: "Karma."]

Immediately, a cold pulse surged through his body. A strange sensation, as if something had just been etched into his very soul.

Yumeji clenched his teeth, gripping the bedsheet tightly. But this time… something was different.

It hurt.

A sharp pain, like hundreds of needles stabbing through every nerve. A crushing weight pressed down on his entire body. His breathing grew ragged, his heartbeat accelerating at an abnormal rate. His veins felt as if they were being strangled.

He felt… heavy.

Not physically, but as if an invisible force was oppressing him. As if he had just tangled himself in something he was never meant to touch.

His head spun. The world around him began to distort. Strange sounds echoed in his ears—whispers from an unknown source, as if something distant was calling his name.

—And then, Yumeji realized.

He had just made a mistake.

A mistake that could never be undone.

*****

The first sensation upon waking up was not relief or peace, but a sharp pain coursing through the body.

It felt as if hundreds of searing needles were piercing deep into every muscle, threading through his veins, and spreading to the very tips of his fingers.

Yumeji's breathing grew heavy. He felt as if a furnace was burning inside him, scorching every cell in his body.

The moment he moved, a series of sharp beeping noises erupted. The machines around him flickered erratically, their medical monitors displaying meaningless symbols before abruptly shutting down.

In that instant, a powerful electromagnetic wave surged from Yumeji's body, disrupting every piece of equipment in the hospital room.

— This isn't normal.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath exhaling heat like the height of a scorching summer. His throat was parched, an unnatural thirst surging through him as if all the water in his body had been drained away.

Instinct urged him to reach for the glass of water on the bedside table.

But—

Crack!

The moment his fingers touched the glass, it shattered.

Not just breaking or falling to the ground, but disintegrating into tiny shards right in his hand.

Startled, Yumeji jerked his hand back. He stared at the shimmering fragments, his amber eyes reflecting the flickering blue light from the dying medical devices.

— "This isn't good. I need to get out of here."

His body swayed, but he forced himself to stand, dragging his feet out of the hospital room. He stumbled along the seemingly endless hallway of Schicksal's medical facility in the dead of night.

No one was there.

Only the dim white light stretched across the polished floor.

Yumeji's hand traced along the wall as his footsteps echoed in the eerie silence. Cold sweat ran down his spine, mingling with the heat radiating from his body. The thirst remained unrelenting, gnawing at his throat like a relentless nightmare.

— 'A restroom…'

Yes. If he could just find a sink, if he could just submerge his face in water, he would surely snap out of this.

After a few minutes of wandering, Yumeji finally pushed open the door to an empty restroom.

Inside, the air was damp. The temperature was freezing, fitting for early November.

Ignoring everything else, Yumeji immediately approached the sink and turned the faucet to its maximum.

Cold water. Thank god.

He scooped up the water, splashing it onto his face, letting the icy droplets trail down his chin and onto his neck. The heat on his skin began to subside.

But—

It still wasn't enough.

As if compelled by something, Yumeji plunged his face directly into the sink.

Splash!

Water overflowed.

He held his breath, allowing the liquid to flood his ears, muffling the chaotic noise in his head.

A few seconds later, he lifted his face, pressing both hands against the sink, panting heavily. Steam rose from his overheated skin, fogging up the mirror before him.

He narrowed his eyes at his reflection.

A pale face, amber eyes dimmer than usual, and damp hair sticking to his forehead. He could see every strand plastered against his skin, every droplet rolling down his cheek.

— "…I look pathetic."

He exhaled, his breath warm enough to blur the mirror even further.

But at that moment—

The ceiling light started to flicker.

Yumeji's body stiffened.

The air around him shifted.

He quickly turned to glance at the door. For some reason, he had the uncanny feeling that someone had just stepped inside.

But there was no one there.

So he turned back to the mirror.

And then—

A pale hand suddenly reached out from the glass, seizing his collar.

A tremendous force yanked him forward.

Before he could react, Yumeji was dragged into the mirror.

The only sound left in the empty restroom—

Was the quiet dripping of water onto the tiled floor.

******

__________Skill_________

Name: Karma (level:0)

Ranking: A+ (approaching S)

Attribute: Fire & Fate

Status: Passive, cannot be extinguished

Description:

A crimson flame with powerful exorcism properties, capable of purifying negative energy and affecting invisible entities. When activated, the body emits electromagnetic interference and the temperature rises abnormally.

Basic effects:

Can affect supernatural phenomena.

Allows the owner to perform a certain form of causal exchange.

Reacts strongly to one's own will and emotions as well as external influences

******

Just as his body was pulled into the mirror by the phantom's hand, a powerful force pulled him into the mirror.

Yumeji's consciousness was cut off for a few seconds before he regained consciousness.

The darkness in the mirror suddenly tilted. A vortex came and pulled everything away, distorting both space and perception.

Yumeji's hand flailing in the void, but only managed to grab a cold void. No gravity, no direction. Everything melted into a terrible silence. A second later, he was thrown out, slamming into a hard but completely smooth surface.

The fever was still there, burning Yumeji's consciousness like a silent lava flowing through his veins. His breathing was rapid, waves of heat rising from his lungs.

But more importantly—

He was no longer in the hospital bathroom.

Yumeji blinked and looked around.

A forest.

The trees grew in dense patches, blocking out the sky. But what was even more terrifying was the ground. It was impossibly smooth, as if someone had forcibly smoothed it. There was no soil, no grass. Just a cold surface that didn't belong to the real world.

"…Where the hell am I?" Yumeji muttered, her voice dry.

No one answered.

Then—a gentle breeze blew by.

Yumeji instinctively turned around to look.

There they were.

Silent, motionless, and surrounding him.

Distorted, shapeless shadows, like remnants torn from the old world. Blank white eyes stared into space, looking at him as if they had found a way out.

—If they entered him, they would be released.

Yumeji felt a chill run down his spine as he realized that. And then, a scream that seemed to come from the bottom of the abyss tore through the silence.

"AAAAAAAAAAAA—!"

They threw themselves at him.

—!!!

Seeing that, Yumeji jumped up and ran, but each step felt like it was weighed down by fever and exhaustion. His breathing was rapid, and sweat poured out like a stream. His heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it was about to tear through his chest.

His legs staggered.

Even though he had run to the point of exhaustion, even though he had desperately tried to keep his balance on the smooth ground that reflected a dim light like shattered glass, he kept running.

But no matter how far or how fast he ran—they remained close behind, relentlessly pursuing him, whispering without end, screeching in hoarse voices filled with despair.

The ghosts.

Not the kind that merely drifted about and moaned, nor the high-tier vengeful spirits capable of distorting reality at will. These were weak, worthless remnants—lost souls, stripped of everything except their desperate yearning for release.

And, according to their twisted beliefs, there was only one way to achieve that—to possess his body, to seize control, to tear apart every fragment of his consciousness, every thread of his thoughts, every last drop of his soul.

Yumeji grit his teeth. He didn't have enough stamina to keep running. It wasn't just because his old wounds still ached, nor was it solely due to the fever making every breath heavy—it was because this space—this eerie, twisted forest, a warped reflection of reality—was slowly suffocating him.

And then, he felt his body halt midair.

Vines.

No, not ordinary vines. Gnarled roots sprouted from the colossal tree before him, slowly, yet surely, coiling around his wrists, ankles, waist, and shoulders.

They didn't tighten immediately; they merely tugged gently, as if testing the reaction of their prey before completely constricting and crushing him.

There was no time for hesitation.

—Fire Cloud.

Flames erupted, burning red like the setting sun, swirling around his fingertips before bursting forth. Without a second thought, he poured all his strength into the attack—but the moment the fire touched them, it was snuffed out, as if it had never existed.

"What the—?!"

Yumeji was momentarily stunned, but he quickly understood the reason why.

Spiritual entities. He finally admitted that the beings before him lacked physical form, rendering physical attacks completely ineffective.

Yumeji bit his lip.

Ordinary fire was useless. Electricity, impact force, shockwaves—anything bound by the laws of physics was meaningless. And yet, they could touch him, crush his bones, numb his muscles, and slowly drag him into the earth.

—Damn it.

His vision blurred from sweat and fever. His thoughts grew hazy. His consciousness drifted into a dark void, where eerie whispers merged with his delirium—

[How pathetic you look, my dear little landlord~ You're just as useless as last time.]

A voice rang out.

Instantly, his entire body trembled. Not out of fear, nor surprise.

This feeling—he had experienced it before. A month ago, during his sparring match with Fu Hua, he had heard this voice.

It was an arrogant, taunting, crude voice.

And above all—it wasn't his own.

[You really are such a bore, but I need you alive. So hand over the controls~ Let me help you.]

Yumeji struggled, but his strength had long since drained away. His consciousness dimmed, and in that moment, an unfamiliar sensation flooded into his mind—

A tidal wave surged.

A violent storm swept through.

A blazing fire erupted, consuming everything.

And then, his awareness was shoved aside.

When he opened his eyes again, a slow smile spread across his face.

A wide, toothy grin.

A grin filled with madness, delight, and arrogance, as if everything in this world was nothing more than a mere plaything.

His eyes were no longer their familiar amber hue—they gleamed with a brilliant gold, hexagonal pupils shimmering, dark circles trailing down to the corners like a mark of someone who had long surpassed the limits of humanity.

He chuckled, softly, as if savoring the finest joke ever told.

—"Well then, shall we play?"

And without hesitation, crimson flames erupted.

Not the familiar orange-red flames of Fire Cloud.

But the flames of Karma—deep crimson, as if straight from hell.

The vines binding his body instantly burned away, every fiber, every cell, vanishing as though they had never existed. No incantation, no effort, no technique required—he merely willed it, and the world obeyed.

His golden eyes flicked toward the shadowy, colossal tree before him, and he clapped his hands together slowly, as if in applause.

—"I like you. Quite the impressive performance. And thanks to you, I get to come out and have some fun. So let me reward you—with a most excruciating death~"

A cruel smile curled his lips as he finished speaking.

Then, without a moment's delay—he tore the monstrous tree's roots apart, crushed its body underfoot with brutal, deliberate force, like a child smashing an ant for amusement. And only after thoroughly enjoying himself did he finally incinerate its spirit to ashes.

Upon witnessing this, the remaining ghosts began to panic.

But it was too late.

What followed wasn't a battle.

Not a confrontation.

Not an exorcism.

It was a massacre.

A predator's feast.

A slaughter so dull, yet so intoxicating.

And then, twenty minutes later, in the real world—

A mirror in the hospital bathroom shattered into thousands of fragments.

A bloodstained hand reached out from within, followed by a figure slowly crawling out, like a monster emerging from the depths of hell.

It stood up, raking a wet hand through its disheveled hair, grinning wide.

Shards of broken glass clung to its body, the hospital gown it wore was torn to shreds, but it paid no mind.

Its gaze dropped to the silver bracelet on Yumeji's wrist, where an annoying red light flickered, signaling something.

—"Tch! Time's up already? How dull."

Clicking its tongue in irritation, it shrugged and leisurely strolled toward Yumeji's hospital room, showing not the slightest urgency.

Amidst the empty hospital corridors on a silent night—

A whistle echoed in the darkness.