A Familiar Routine

Dark clouds obscured the sun, and the air was thick with various radioactive and harmful substances. Cold rain fell like silver curtains. A gaunt, thin boy stepped out from his hiding spot and tilted his head back to swallow a few mouthfuls. No one knew what would happen from drinking such water, but one thing was certain: not drinking meant certain death, while drinking meant you might linger for a few more days.

Wars broke out incessantly across the human world. No one remembered which country had launched the first nuclear missile. In the history that followed, humanity recklessly used the weapons they had created to engage in constant destruction and slaughter. By the time they came to their senses, it was already too late; the Earth that had nurtured them had lost all chance of recovery and had become a dead star.

"Caw, caw."

Under the eaves, strange birds emitted harsh, grating cries. They had been so heavily infected that it was impossible to tell what species they had once been. Those that survived to this day were naturally scavengers. They waited patiently for the boy before them to die so they could feast. Ruben glanced indifferently at the birds that had already marked him as food, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Just as he was wondering how he could turn himself into the predator, another young man appeared abruptly before him.

"I am a god."

The torrential rain did not wet his casual clothes, as if the rain itself knew the hierarchy and consciously avoided his body. This young man smiled at the dying boy and spoke.

"Um, I'm not a street swindler. Actually, calling myself a god is a bit of an exaggeration. In reality..."

Seeming to feel that his statement sounded as unreliable as a fortune teller under a bridge, the young man hurriedly tried to prove himself, though he didn't quite know how.

"I believe you."

Ruben managed to squeeze a sentence out of his parched throat. Not to mention the man's ability to avoid the rain, the fact that he could wear such clean clothes in this apocalypse was enough to be convincing.

"Is that so? Good, then I can help you survive."

The young man hadn't expected to be accepted so easily, which saved him a bit of nagging.

"Why?"

"Because you are the last human on this planet."

"A strange reason."

The city Ruben lived in was naturally a dead city, but he hadn't expected that everyone else in the world was truly dead. He didn't know how he had managed to be the last one left; there was probably no explanation other than good luck.

"...Don't say it like that. Ah, you can't see her, can you? She says that in countless parallel worlds, countless planets are destroyed every day by foolish humans. She says I'm meddling, but since I've seen it, I really can't just leave it alone."

The young man turned his head to speak to some unseen presence. Ruben followed his gaze and saw a blank, human-shaped void in the rain that remained untouched by the downpour. The young man continued to ramble on about his companion.

"You're very long-winded."

"Lon-long-winded? Forget it. I'm going to put all the crystallized wisdom of humanity from this planet into your head. That way, you'll be carrying an entire civilization by yourself. You could say it's another way to keep this planet's legacy alive."

The young man seemed deeply wounded. After petrifying for a few seconds, he reached out and tapped Ruben on the forehead, inputting all the knowledge he had promised into his mind.

"Won't my head explode?"

"No, they aren't stored directly in your memory, but in another space. You can just go in and find what you need when you need it. The method is just like using a search engine."

"Although I don't know why you're doing this, I'm already dying. You should give this task to someone else."

Ruben quickly mastered the method; it was indeed as convenient as a search engine. However, he was well aware that his body would last at most another two or three days. To put it bluntly, this ability was useless.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm going to send you to another world."

"!?"

'Hey, Ruben, what do you want to be when you grow up?'

'Hmm... I want to be a scientist and make all sorts of gadgets that make people happy.'

The last thing Ruben saw was a dazzling light. In the dream of his transition, he saw his gentle mother and his childhood dreams. After these final flashes of memory ended, he woke up in another world, struggling to survive in the body of a five-year-old brat.

Mayuna was puzzled. She lay on the bed that belonged to Ruben, staring blankly at the ceiling. The scenes of her time with Ruben yesterday replayed in her mind. Why, exactly? Why had she shown her true emotions to a stranger? She knew clearly how cold and distant she had been in the past; other than her teacher, she had never revealed her true thoughts to anyone. Yet, the version of herself with Ruben yesterday had been so real—when she laughed, when she threw a tantrum, and when she felt smug.

"Perhaps it's because I was close to death. Starting today, that won't happen again. Yes."

Mayuna quickly found a reason for herself and promised that no matter what Ruben said today, she would respond calmly. At the very least, she had to make him feel that she, a Magic God, was dignified. Otherwise, how could she hold her head up in front of him in the future? As for why she needed to hold her head up, Mayuna ignored that question.

When Mayuna, having steeled her resolve, walked out of the room, Ruben was still sleeping on the sofa. Mayuna looked at Ruben, curled into a ball, and paused slightly. She was all too familiar with this sleeping posture; she had spent years sleeping like that when she was young, only gradually breaking the habit thanks to Yura's warm embrace.

"Good thing he didn't sleep in here."

Perhaps an ordinary girl would find such a person pitiful and reluctantly offer him a warm embrace, only to blush and warn him not to misunderstand when he woke up. Mayuna, however, felt that her choice yesterday had been very correct, and then she patted Ruben awake.

"Good morning."

Ruben wasn't angry at being woken up by Mayuna; it wasn't a pleasant dream anyway. After greeting Mayuna, he went to the bathroom to wash up.

"Are you cleaning yourself?"

Mayuna stared as Ruben put a white, viscous substance onto a short wooden stick embedded with soft bristles, shoved it into his mouth, and moved it in and out, creating countless bubbles. After everything that happened yesterday, Mayuna had deduced what he was doing. She looked at him with a gaze of disdain. The reason was simple: if it was just for cleaning, Ruben's method seemed far too troublesome to her.

"Keeping one's mouth clean is essential. You have your own cleaning methods, don't you?"

"Yes, things like Sticky Grass seeds."

Mayuna took a white, marble-sized sphere from her spatial ring. This strange grass seed would stick to the grime in the mouth and even carried a hint of minty fragrance. You just chewed it a few times and spat it out. In truth, this was much simpler than brushing teeth, but Ruben still firmly believed in science.

"I'm hungry."

Mayuna had already heard her stomach protesting. She had only had a bowl of rice porridge yesterday; even a Magic God couldn't withstand hunger. This guy in front of her was certainly good at sleeping—he hadn't even prepared food for the patient. Where was his professional ethics as a healer?

"Wait."

"I don't want to drink porridge."

Mayuna's expression was cold, constantly reminding herself to maintain the posture of a cold beauty and not let Ruben think she was begging for charity. Yes.

"Oh."

Ruben nodded. He had no intention of earnestly lecturing her on how she should behave while recovering from an illness; regardless, if he didn't provide Mayuna with food, she would likely just run off and eat whatever she pleased anyway, so it was better to let her suffer a little and learn her lesson.

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Someone: You carry the crystallization of all Earthlings.

Ruben: Am I supposed to change my name to Clark and wear my underwear on the outside to save the world?

Someone: You're overthinking it. Just stay put and be a salted fish who only knows how to shout "666."

Ruben: Mayuna 666, Mayuna 99999999.