June 21, 1582 — Honnoji Temple, Kyoto.

Oda Nobunaga sat in seiza, his breathing steady despite the raging flames outside. The cries of battle echoed in the halls, but he paid them no mind. His trusted Ranmaru fought to the bitter end, but even the most loyal retainers could not change fate.

The betrayal had come swiftly. Akechi Mitsuhide, a man he had once trusted, had turned against him. It was almost amusing, really—how quickly a blade could sever loyalty.

Nobunaga smirked bitterly. So, this is how it ends.

With one final sigh, he shed his blood-stained kimono, kneeling in preparation for his final act. "No regret!" he spoken out loud, his voice steady.

Then, darkness.

For a moment, there was nothing—no pain, no sound, just an empty void. But suddenly, light burned through the blackness, and with a sharp inhale, Nobunaga opened his eyes.

He was… somewhere else.

---

2025 – Your Room

Tears slid down your cheeks as you clutched your history book, the familiar weight of sorrow pressing on your chest. Oda Nobunaga’s fate had always haunted you. He wasn’t just a figure of the past—he was an obsession. A man who defied his era, whose ambitions burned too brightly to be contained. He was ruthless, brilliant, untamed. He almost conquered everything. Almost.

You sighed, closing your eyes, the book pressed against your heart.

Then—

A sharp gust of wind. The scent of smoke. A shift in the air.

Your eyes snapped open.

There, standing in the middle of your room, was a man. His long black hair was tousled, his piercing gaze scanning his surroundings with suspicion. He wore only a loose, bloodstained robe, and his presence was overwhelming—commanding, powerful, undeniable.

Oda Nobunaga.

Your breath hitched. This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

His sharp eyes locked onto yours, narrowing slightly. "Where the hell am I?" His voice was deep, demanding, utterly alive.

Your book slipped from your fingers, landing on the floor with a dull thud.