Cloverless

I loved watching anime. My recent favorite was Black Clover! It was rad, full of magic, and had a gutsy protagonist who was as inspiring as he was oblivious. Seriously, it was awesome—don't you think so too?

Sadly, the series had come to an end. And by "end," I didn't mean a neatly tied-up epilogue; it felt more like the universe had given me the middle finger. I was dying to watch the next season, but for reasons I refused to understand, Black Clover was going on an indefinite hiatus. Yeah, ostentatiously calling it a hiatus was a bit much, even for me. I guess I was still stuck in denial because I truly loved that anime. Sure, the animation had its quirks—some scenes felt like they were animated during a coffee break—but honestly, I found it aesthetically pleasing.

There were manga and fanfiction to stave off my Black Clover cravings, but nothing could replace the thrill of watching it. It was quite the dilemma for a sucker for magical fight scenes like me. I had devoured my fair share of anime—Naruto, Fairy Tail, and even those generic isekai templates that made you question your life choices. And believe it or not, I even enjoyed the slime isekai. I know, I know, what a time to be alive!

So, there I was, idly browsing the internet, when suddenly… blackout. Not just any blackout, but one that took away my electricity and my precious internet. Talk about a double whammy of annoyance! Sighing dramatically, I realized I had to suck it up. Left with no entertainment, I felt like a fish out of water, or perhaps a wizard without a wand.

With nothing better to do, I unenthusiastically made my way to the terrace, flashlight in hand. I took a moment to feel proud of being a grown-ass man with a terrace, like I was living my best life or something. I plopped down on the cold stone bench and gazed melancholically at the starry night sky. It was beautiful. Maybe there was a Clover Kingdom out there, just waiting for me to pop in for a visit?

The thought was entertaining, at least—probably more entertaining than my current situation.

Out of nowhere, a shooting star streaked across the night sky, glimmering like a divine sparkler. Without hesitation, I blurted out my sincerest wish: "I wish I was in Clover Kingdom right now!"

Is it just me, or was the shooting star shifting its trajectory? Hmmm… Wait a minute, doesn't it feel like it's getting bigger and brighter? My heart raced as I squinted up at the sky, wondering if my wish was about to be granted—or if I was about to be a human pancake.

"What the—!" I gasped, my eyes wide as the fiery ball zoomed directly toward me. My instincts kicked in, but my brain was still processing the fact that a shooting star was hurtling straight toward my terrace. "Is this how I die? I didn't even finish Black Clover! Talk about a tragic ending!"

Before the pain even had a chance to register, my existence seemed to explode into a cacophony of flames, dust, and messy charred remains—at least, that's how I imagined it in my dramatic mind.

Then, in the blink of an eye, everything went dark.

~

Chains restrained my movement as I slowly opened my eyes to a dark and cramped space. I imagined this place to be purgatory—a fitting punishment for whatever cosmic joke had landed me here. But no, it wasn't purgatory. Through the manifestation of my wish, I had found myself in this world, the world of Black Clover.

Days had passed since the shooting star incident, and reality hit hard. After a person claiming to be my dad finished explaining what had happened, I was forcefully made aware of my situation. Like the Wise Man usually said, "Be careful what you wish for." I opened my eyes to a world that was all too familiar yet unfathomably strange. I didn't know what to feel anymore—blessed? Cursed?

On the bright side, my wish had come true. But thinking about it negatively, I realized I had to be extremely careful in the coming years to preserve my life. Like right now.

"Is this really Clover Kingdom?" I asked myself in trepidation, fully aware of my predicament yet still lingering in denial.

Sigh… Why was I still in denial? Well, it was all thanks to my new dad, Philip Jester, with his Grimoire floating ominously in the corner. "Son, are you okay? Here, drink some water," he said, his voice dripping with a mix of concern and ownership.

This new dad of mine wasn't exactly thrilling. Regret washed over me like a tidal wave. "No, fuck!! Leave me alone! I ain't your son!" I shouted, trying to push my new dad away with all my might, but the chains held me firmly in place.

My hostility toward him was understandable. Who wouldn't be angry? I was the victim here. Apparently, Philip Jester, under the threat of his noble title's revocation, had done something quite appalling—summoning magic of the eldritch variety. I hadn't intended to come here in the first place; it wasn't my fault, and all this was due to the insane Philip's magic. Why insane? Well, in his quest to summon me, he effectively massacred all of his people as sacrifices. It was ridiculous.

In an attempt to create a suitable and strong heir, Philip had conducted an experiment on his own son… and I was the end result. At least, that was what my insane dad was telling me. This was precisely why I was in denial. I didn't want any of this.

As I struggled against my chains, I glanced around the dimly lit space. The walls were rough, with strange symbols etched into the stone, and the air was thick with a mix of magic and something akin to despair. "This can't be happening," I muttered under my breath. "I was just wishing for a fun adventure, not to be a human sacrifice."

Philip's concerned expression flickered with a hint of annoyance. "Son, you need to understand. I did this for you. You're destined for greatness in this world!"

"Destined for greatness?" I scoffed, the absurdity of it all making me chuckle darkly. "More like destined for a one-way trip to a horror story. Why didn't you think to summon me without the whole 'let's slaughter everyone' part?"

He looked taken aback, but I could see the fire in his eyes. "I had no choice! They would have betrayed me. I did what I had to do for my family!"

"Your family?" I laughed bitterly. "I'm not your family! You're a maniac, and I'm just a random guy who wished on a shooting star! Do you think I wanted any of this?"

My words hung in the air, and for a brief moment, silence enveloped us. Then, the gravity of the situation began to settle in my gut. I was trapped in a twisted fairy tale, and my so-called father was the villain.

"Look, Philip," I said, my voice steadying as I forced myself to meet his gaze. "If you want me to be anything like you imagine, you need to unchain me first. I won't do your bidding while I'm stuck in these chains. We both know that's not how this works."

Philip's expression shifted, and I sensed a flicker of hesitation. "You may not understand now, but this is for your own good," he insisted, though I could tell he was wrestling with the implications of his actions.

"Well, I'm not going to let you make me into some twisted version of your 'ideal heir,'" I retorted. "I'm not your experiment. I'm just a guy who wanted to binge-watch some anime, and now I'm stuck here, living your nightmare!"

His eyes narrowed, but I could see a crack in his resolve. Perhaps the weight of his actions was starting to sink in. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "But know this: You will come to understand your purpose in time, whether you like it or not."

"Great," I muttered sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "Can't wait for that heartwarming moment."

As the chains clinked around me, I couldn't help but wonder what other horrors awaited me in this absurd rendition of Black Clover. But one thing was certain: I wouldn't go down without a fight.

Dead carcasses surrounded me, and the smell of blood was thick and nauseating. Philip Jester insistently kept calling me "son, son, son…" Damn, this was too much.

After the shooting star had turned me into charcoals, I found myself chained here in a damp, humid underground cellar. The damaged ceiling provided very little light, adding to the creepy atmosphere in my immediate surroundings. Honestly, that was better than complete darkness.

At least with a little light, I could extract information from my surroundings. I observed that… hmmm… there were bones… aah… rotten meat… what else? Skulls… lots of them… and there was also an infant's carcass… ugh… disgusting… sheesh… I had nothing. The information I was gathering was totally useless.

After forcing me to drink a cup of water, my new dad suddenly started tap dancing like a maniac. With a jubilant cry, he called to me. "Son, son, son… You'll be the future Wizard King! You'll salvage our noble family's honor! What declining nobility!? We are not, we are not, we are not…"

Philip Jester, at 100% full psycho, hysterically rambled on about his difficulties as a lowly baron of Clover Kingdom. Effortlessly, I was learning more intimate details about my current situation.

Currently, Philip was my only source of information, so I did my best to cater to him.

I answered him with an affectionate tone, forcing a smile. "Yes, Dad… I'll be the greatest. Can you help me? Do you have any mirrors? I'd love to see how handsome I am."

My poor, insane dad immediately acceded to my request. "Yes, son… wait for your daddy…"

Quickly, the madman returned, holding a shard of a mirror right in front of my face. I caught a glimpse of my reflection. Dark hair, crimson eyes, and a relatively handsome face. Young, not even in my 20s, I believed.

I had been handsome before, but coming here, it was nice to see that I had become more charming. Haaagh… 'I am going on the wrong path; narcissism is bad, remember that!' I chided myself, trying to straighten my priorities in my mind.

Only then did I realize there was slightly some blood on the mirror shard. My imagination, as wild as it was, couldn't help but think ominously about it.

And I wasn't wrong, as my psychotic dad frantically sang in high praises. "Aren't you handsome, son? You look like your dad, right? Do you see the blood on it? I used this shard to slit those peasants' throats! Aren't I great? Don't you like this mirror shard?"

My stomach churned in disgust, but I didn't show it on my face. "Dad, won't you free your beautiful son? The steel is hurting my wrists," I asked expectantly, desperation creeping into my voice. I couldn't take this anymore. There had to be something I could do.

Philip gazed at me in odd silence for a moment, then another. It was eerie and nerve-wracking. "You are not my son," a trace of rationality momentarily returned to him. "YOU ARE NOT MY SON!!" Then, full insanity retook control of whatever rationality was left in him.

It was always like this, and it had been a week. The madman, as if he were a clock, repeated the same pattern over and over. After tending to me, he would have these scary sessions— the kind of lucid, depraved insanity that chilled me to my core.

Magical constructs in the shape of ghosts and all kinds of monstrosities came to life. Their grotesque forms only added to the terror of the underground cellar. I closed my eyes, lacking any inclination to watch. Outside of my sight, the monsters started their feast, devouring the remaining carcasses in the cellar.

I couldn't say I was getting used to this. A week was not a long time to adjust, but I was managing just fine. Still, I prayed for all of this to end. Being here, I realized… it wasn't fun. Watching the anime and living in it were entirely different experiences.

Philip Jester was screaming at the top of his lungs. "SINGULARITY!! I SUMMONED A SINGULARITY! MY SON! NOT MY SON! MY SON! NOT MY SON! GIVE ME BACK MY SON!"

As his voice echoed through the cellar, I felt a sense of dread wash over me. If this was my new reality, I had to find a way to survive. "Okay, think," I muttered to myself, "if this is a twisted version of Black Clover, then there must be a way out. There must be allies or magic I can tap into… something!"

The monsters continued their grotesque feasting, and I tried to focus. "Maybe I could use Philip's madness to my advantage. He's clearly unstable, and there must be a crack in his psyche that I can exploit."

"Dad!" I called out, forcing a bit of urgency into my voice. "If I'm going to be your son, don't you want to make sure I'm strong? Free me! Teach me your magic! Show me what it means to be a Jester!"

He paused, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of interest in his deranged eyes. "Yes, yes… my son must be strong!" he exclaimed, almost giddy. "You'll be powerful! I'll make you the strongest—"

"Then let me out of these chains!" I interrupted, my heart racing. "I can't learn anything if I'm stuck here!"

Philip hesitated, and I could sense the internal battle raging within him. If I could keep him focused on my potential, maybe I could buy myself some time.

"Yes, my son… you deserve to be free! You'll show them all!" He reached for the chains, a wild grin spreading across his face.

But just as he moved closer, I felt the weight of the darkness around us. It was now or never. "Remember, Dad, I'm your only hope to bring back our family's glory. Don't let me rot away here!"

For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if I had reached him. The maniacal glint in his eye softened, and I could see the fractured pieces of his sanity trying to fit back together. But just as quickly as it appeared, the madness returned.

"NO!" he screamed, pulling back suddenly. "You are NOT my son! I'll never let you go!"

I braced myself, the terror gripping my heart. If this was my new life, I had to fight back. I couldn't just be a pawn in his twisted game. The monsters feasting around me were a stark reminder of what I could become if I didn't act quickly.

"Let's do this!" I thought, channeling every ounce of courage I could muster. "If I'm going to be stuck in this hell, I might as well make it entertaining."