A whole new world?

Three gallons of random blood procured, six gallons extracted from the beast I bled, crystals salvaged from the plundered teleporter now nestled in my possession, and dust of void essence acquired from the dragon clan, obtained at a bargain price - all meticulously arranged. Shall the border finally yield? Employing the talisman fashioned during my tenure in Bordome, where it demonstrated the theoretical potential to induce a spatial rift for a fleeting moment, enhanced through the incorporation of a delayed bleeding ritual and imbued with spatial disruptiveness, my objective is to manifest a portal, albeit transient.

Here I stand, endeavouring to substantiate the existence of another realm, substantiated by celestial orbs adorning our skies, posing a compelling argument for habitability. Yet, alas, the obstinate disbeliefs of my peers persist. Fear not, for I shall demonstrate that our inability to traverse worlds ought not to hinder our capacity to create pathways. Surely, if deities are privy to this knowledge, their silence merely cloaks the truth. Nonetheless, I remain undeterred by skepticism. After all, why should the pursuit of truth be left solely to the divine?

With calculated precision, I delicately pour the crimson elixir onto the pristine pavement, arranging them in a pattern akin to a ritual array, drawing upon the ancient knowledge of vampire magic. As creatures inherently intertwined with the essence of blood, we harbour no trepidation in its expenditure as a substitute for mana. The talisman, a focal point of my endeavour, is nonchalantly tossed into the center, amidst the pooled scarlet reservoirs. Sprinkling and cascading the dust with a casual air, I employ a scant measure of my lifeblood, drawn from the tips of my fingers, to ignite the intricate design.

A sudden flash of light accompanied by a cacophonous roar reverberates through my senses, as consciousness slips away, enveloping me in the realm of oblivion.

As consciousness gradually dawns upon me, I find myself akin to a mere digit, yet imbued with a keen awareness of my rapid bodily reconstruction. My essence, coursing through my veins with unparalleled fervour, orchestrates the intricate dance of cellular multiplication, fashioning a new form with a diminutive stature, the epitome of efficiency and ease according to my innate instincts. Clad in a garment conjured with the effortless flick of a wrist, I promptly retrieve my journal, penning meticulous notes to immortalize this remarkable experiment. 'Inherently perilous, unless one boasts the gift of immortality' - a cautionary admonition, should any dare to pry into the depths of my arcane pursuits. Nonetheless, the likelihood of such a breach remains infinitesimal, as my journal remains a sanctum solely for my perusal.

Surveying my surroundings, devoid of any living presence, reassures me that my impromptu metamorphosis went unnoticed. Availing myself of quill and ink from my reserves, I meticulously chronicle the intricacies of my arrival in this luminous realm, unperturbed by the radiant sphere that bathes it in its intense glow. Remarkably unfazed by its searing heat, a testament to my resilience, I effortlessly conjure a humble scout to navigate this enigmatic world on my behalf.

It didn't take long for my scout to ascend to a vantage point, revealing a sprawling metropolis with towering edifices that defy the heavens. Swift-moving vehicles traverse the thoroughfares, momentarily captivating my attention before my insatiable curiosity compels further inquiry. I ponder the intricacies of their propulsion mechanisms, the materials comprising their construction, and the complex calculations underlying their operation, an intellectual pursuit that beckons me to unravel its mysteries.

However, my reverie is interrupted by the persistent summons of a stranger, a young girl with raven-black tresses, her presence emitting an unfamiliar energy akin to mana yet distinctly disparate. Despite her persistent entreaties, I momentarily entertain the notion of indulging her discourse. Yet, as she utters incomprehensible syllables, it dawns upon me that I am confronted with a linguistic barrier, a stark indicator of my transference to an alternate realm. Despite my proficiency in over a hundred languages, her dialect eludes comprehension, necessitating a more direct approach.

Fixing my gaze upon hers, I invoke a subtle manipulation, assimilating her memories to decipher her tongue. As her once-clear eyes dim and then regain clarity, I sift through her recollections before deigning to engage in dialogue.

"Um... are you okay? Would you like me to help you find your parents?" The girl, shuffling awkwardly, appeared to assume I couldn't speak, given my silence since her attempts to engage me. "What I'm doing is of my own volition. Finding my parents isn't necessary. Also, you are quite rude for not introducing yourself and stating your affiliation," I calmly remarked, my gaze fixed upon her. My words seemed to render her dumbfounded, perhaps even flabbergasted, at hearing such sophisticated language from me.

"My name is Ichigo Hina, and I'm a student at Sakurasou High!" As she blurted out her name and school, her words laced with a hint of panic, I noted the details with fleeting interest. Perhaps attending that school could provide valuable insights. However, with my focus diverted towards crafting a plausible background, time to entertain further conversation was a luxury I couldn't afford. Once my preparations were complete and I enrolled in the school, perhaps then I could afford the leisure to engage in further discourse.

Without sparing a glance for her continued entreaties, I swiftly gathered my belongings and departed. My foremost priority lay in securing a suitable family—neither excessively affluent nor destitute, preferably childless or grappling with the complexities of parenthood, although I begrudgingly acknowledged the impracticality of such stipulations in my constrained circumstances. Fortunately, within Ichigo's recollections, I unearthed a couple among her neighbours whose familial bonds resonated with authenticity. While their hearth seemed welcoming, my transient presence, necessitated by distant studies, could seamlessly integrate. Yet, the omnipresent scrutiny of higher authorities loomed as an ever-present obstacle, threatening to unravel my meticulously crafted facade.

Contemplating the intricacies of familial influence, particularly within the realm of great power and affluence, I couldn't dismiss the notion of a deeper, supernatural undercurrent shaping such dynasties. The existence of magical girls and otherworldly entities hinted at a complexity far beyond surface appearances. Despite the brief glimpse I managed to extract from the new magical girl's consciousness, the mystery of her transformation remained elusive. Nevertheless, I harboured a notion: perhaps a pact, leveraging the inherent greed of humanity, could afford me the solid background I sought. After all, as a denizen of the infernal realm, brokering contracts was a realm in which I held considerable expertise.