I found comfort in this darkness.

　Hiding within a labyrinth filled with silence and death, I would strip gear from the lifeless remains of fallen explorers and sell them in the black market—just enough to survive.

　In the shadowy path where death lurks nearby, in the hidden chamber.

　I cloak myself in darkness, crouching here once more, holding my breath.

　So no one can see me.

　So no one notices me.

　And above all,

　so everyone forgets about me—

　◇◆◆◆◇

Out of the myriad humans on Earth—each with different "birth," "upbringing," "gender," and "age"—a thousand were chosen by "God" to embark on a journey to another world, one where the fantasy of swords and magic has become reality: the "Other World."

The chaos that engulfed the entire planet, still unfolding even now, began on a certain morning in June, just as I, a high school student, had finally grown accustomed to my daily routine.

For me—Kurose Hikaru—it was a turning point in life—

no, more precisely, an "incident."

At that moment, a silhouette of light, indescribable as anything but a human figure, suddenly appeared on every unused display screen across the globe, proclaiming:

"I am 'God.'"

I was in my classroom, in the middle of my first-period lesson, at that very instant.

The first to notice the figure reflected on the classroom's large television was a female student, and the next moment, the entire class was startled by her sudden scream. At that instant, the words of "God" echoed from the weak speakers of the television.

'I know this form of descent must have surprised you greatly. I have been waiting—waiting for you, my beloved children, to grow. The time has now come.'

The voice was subtle, seeping gently into the heart.

It sounded neither distinctly male nor female. Its age was impossible to determine from the tone alone.

Even the girl who had screamed remained frozen, her face expressionless.

The teacher, suspecting a prank or a malfunction, tried to operate the TV remote, but "God" did not vanish. Even when the teacher turned off the TV's power, the presence remained unchanged.

The teacher went to check on the neighboring classroom, but it turned out that even the neighboring classroom, and even the screens of smartphones that had been pulled out, were reflecting 'God.'

'I have chosen one thousand of you. Almost at random, drawn from countries and ethnicities around the world. Gender makes no difference. Some have life experience, others are still mere boys, and some are elderly. Diverse indeed.'

The mention of "one thousand" confirmed that this phenomenon was not limited to just this school. The total number of students in the entire school was fewer than a thousand.

Even if that weren't the case, it's said to be happening across countries and peoples worldwide. Literally, this phenomenon is occurring all over the world. It felt unreal—so much so that one might suspect it was just a dream during a boring class, or even that someone was pinching their own cheek to confirm they weren't asleep.

'I will send one thousand of you to another world, different from this one.'

The classroom erupted in murmurs at the god's words.

Another world.

A different realm, then?

'The other world is a separate world from this one—what you'd call an "alternate world." More precisely, it could be described as "another world shaped according to your preferences."'

The god's words caused the classroom's murmurs to grow even louder.

But I wasn't particularly excited.

I quickly realized that the chances of me being selected, or of anyone from this school being chosen, were as slim as winning the top prize in a lottery.

Even if babies and the elderly were excluded, there are seven billion people on Earth.

One in seventy million. To win the first prize—or even the second—of a lottery, you'd need extraordinary luck. And if selection were distributed by country or ethnicity, those with larger populations would be at a greater disadvantage. It was practically zero.

Of course, a few Japanese high school students might be chosen, and while I myself don't have no interest at all in worlds of swords and magic—

Those who set off on their journey will be allowed to live as they wish in another world. We won’t make requests or impose anything upon them here. Freedom. Of course, with freedom comes the inevitable price—death.

It’s not like they’re expected to defeat the Demon King as heroes or anything like that.

I can’t fathom the intentions of this "god," but perhaps it’s pointless to try to understand something beyond human comprehension.

"Of course, I’m not simply sending them off without purpose. I intend to bestow upon them 'gifts' that will aid their survival."

By the time they realized it, the entire class was quietly hanging on every word of the god, transfixed.

Glancing sideways at their childhood friend sitting nearby, they saw the same dazed expression as everyone else, staring intently at the television screen.

I've prepared something enjoyable even for those who remain behind. I've created a special website accessible to anyone through their devices, allowing you to watch live, real-time broadcasts of their journey—supporting them as they adventure. Your encouragement will directly become their strength. Isn't that fun?

For the first time, I saw what seemed like a flicker of emotion in the divine words.

Is this special website referring to a regular website?

Is the deity actually using the internet to set up a site?

At first, I truly believed in the existence of a god, but perhaps this is just an unexpectedly cruel joke.

Regardless, I'm definitely not the type who wants to go to another world.

If I can't even manage to survive properly in this world, how could I possibly live happily in a place where I know nothing and have no acquaintances? I lack both practical survival skills and human resilience.

Those transferees receiving particularly high attention will be provided with various benefits and supported to make their activities easier. For details, please check the dedicated website. … Now, regarding the chosen 1,000, we've had markings placed on a part of each of their bodies—something anyone can easily recognize. Since this mark cannot possibly be forged with your current technology, the occurrence of impostors should be minimized.

With the god's words, the entire classroom instantly became chaotic.

A mark on a part of the body—.

It might seem unnecessarily vague not to reveal what form it takes, but probably it will be obvious once seen.

Some male students even began removing their shirts to check.

"Why did I suddenly appear and come up with this plan? Hehe, actually, I'd been planning it all along. Once your civilization reached a certain level, I thought it'd be fun to offer something interesting. To you, perhaps my existence and use of supernatural powers might seem blasphemous—but anyway, just consider this a gift from me. Enjoy yourselves to your heart's content. If you have any requests, feel free to submit them via the dedicated website. Though I won't accept requests to become a transferee, of course. You might suspect foul play in the selection process, but I swear on the gods, it's completely random. Hehe... Did you get my joke, now?"

Seems like a deity who claims to be divine, yet has such an easygoing personality.

Or perhaps it's just an act.

Even as the god was speaking, my classmates were absorbed in searching their bodies for the possible "mark" that might have appeared somewhere. I knew, statistically speaking, it was nearly impossible, and more importantly, jumping on this sudden event felt too much like the behavior of a shallow, carefree show-off. I only rolled up my shirt sleeve slightly to check.

I'm the kind of person who doesn't stand out in class.

In other words, a classic wallflower.

It would be far too clichéd to see me ecstatically cheering at the mention of "another world."

　

"That's right! I forgot to mention something important—the mark appears on the palm of your hand!"

Upon hearing those words, everyone—students and teacher alike—reacted instantly, instinctively checking both hands.

I waited a while before taking a careful look myself.

(…Well, that makes sense, doesn't it?)

There was no mark appearing on my hand. The odds

were like winning the top prize in a lottery. It was more likely that no one at this entire school—perhaps even no one in the whole town—would be chosen. A

thousand people worldwide was that kind of scale. (Huh?) Still,

despite

my classmates buzzing with excitement, I had assumed it was impossible for anyone to be selected from this classroom—let alone this school. That was

until I looked at my childhood friend sitting diagonally ahead

of me. She—Soma Nanami—was staring straight forward, her palms hidden as she lay flat on her desk. Looking straight

ahead, yet seeing nothing—her face was blank, stunned by something completely unexpected. Then, she slowly

turned her head toward me, her eyes wide.

With a pale, bloodless face, her eyes

glistening as if on the verge

of tears. "Hii-chan... I—."

In the still-chaotic classroom, no one paid attention to Nanami, who was as unremarkable as me. So no one

noticed how, on the back of her gently extended left hand, a mandala-like geometric pattern seemed to come alive, shifting colors and shapes continuously. God had

vanished from the television screen long ago.