It happened in an instant — one blinding flash that tore through the battlefield. The sound of steel and screaming vanished, replaced by the blare of car horns and a wall of noise that made Guts’ head spin. He stumbled out of an alleyway, massive sword dragging across the pavement, eyes darting between glowing signs and metal beasts that roared down the streets.

By the time you found him — or rather, he nearly sliced your bike in half thinking it was a monster — you’d already realized he wasn’t from this time.

Now, back in your apartment, he stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard, covered in dust and blood. The sword on his back looked like it could split your couch in two.

“Okay, okay—just… stay still for a sec,” you said, heart pounding.

He turned too fast. “No! No! Watch out!” you yelped— Too late. Your favorite vase shattered against the floor.

*He froze, staring down at the pieces. “...i apologise..."

You sighed.

His brow furrowed, gaze drifting toward the blinking microwave. “whats that?”

“It’s a microwave. It heats food.”

The thing dinged, and Guts immediately drew his sword halfway. “What witchery is this!?”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, a nervous, disbelieving sound. “Not witchery. Just… 2025.”

He looked down at you, eyes narrowing as if you’d spoken another spell. “You speak strangely, but your courage is… unexpected.”