Another world Game Developers in Japan`s 1991

Friday, 15 November 2001.

It was already past midnight when Zaboru finally returned to his private office at ZAGE Campus. The building was almost completely silent now, with only a handful of night-shift employees and security personnel remaining throughout the enormous campus.

Zaboru dropped himself into his chair and released a long, exhausted sigh. He had only recently returned from helping with the World Trade Center rescue operation. Before leaving the rescue teams, he had personally thanked the ZAGE Foundation workers who had spent days beside American firefighters, police officers, doctors, and volunteers. Many of them had barely slept, some had suffered injuries, and several had continued searching through debris long after their shifts were supposed to end. Zaboru treated everyone to a large meal, thanked them individually whenever possible, and made sure the injured personnel received proper medical care and paid recovery leave.

He should have felt proud.

They had saved people.

They had recovered survivors who might otherwise have died beneath the rubble. ZAGE doctors had helped overwhelmed hospitals, engineers had supported firefighters searching unstable sections, and volunteers had provided food, water, clothing, and temporary shelter to families affected by the disaster.

Yet the moment Zaboru finally found himself alone, everything he had been suppressing came back at once.

His hands slowly tightened against the desk.

"Shit…"

He lowered his head.

Then suddenly grabbed his own hair with both hands.

"SHIT! FUCK!"

His shout echoed through the empty office.

Zaboru slammed one fist against the desk before covering his face. His breathing became uneven, and within seconds the tears he had been holding back finally escaped.

He could still see everything.

Not vaguely.

Not like ordinary memories that slowly lost their details as years passed.

Perfectly.

A rescue worker sitting beside the rubble while holding a photograph of his wife and children. A woman screaming her husband's name after being told that rescuers had found his body. Parents arriving in New York desperately carrying photographs of their missing children. A little girl asking a rescue worker whether her father might still be inside.

Even the smell remained.

Smoke.

Dust.

Burned metal.

Blood.

Concrete.

Every detail was still inside his head.

Zaboru pressed both hands against his face as his shoulders trembled. "I… I shouldn't have gone there…"

The statement immediately made him feel horrible.

Of course he should have helped.

People had needed him.

The ZAGE Foundation had needed coordination, and his presence had motivated workers who were pushing themselves through unimaginable exhaustion. He had also possessed access to resources that could genuinely save lives.

Yet another part of him wished desperately that he had never personally witnessed it.

Because Zaboru Renkonan could not simply forget.

His first reincarnation ability, the ability that had made almost everything else possible, was Deep Memory Dive.

It was perhaps the greatest gift he had ever received.

Deep Memory Dive allowed him to reach into his memories from his previous life and retrieve almost anything with extraordinary accuracy. Games he had played decades earlier could return to him with every mechanic, character, level, story beat, soundtrack, and menu almost perfectly preserved. Technology he had once studied could be reconstructed piece by piece. Forgotten conversations, books, movies, sports matches, advertisements, programming concepts, languages, recipes, historical events—even insignificant details that an ordinary person would have lost years earlier could be found again if he searched deeply enough.

Without Deep Memory Dive, ZAGE probably would never have become what it was today.

Zaboru could remember games and concepts from his previous world and recreate them decades earlier. He could remember lessons almost perfectly, learn languages with ridiculous speed, recognise mistakes from projects completed years ago, remember employees he had met only briefly, and retrieve technical information whenever another department needed his help.

It made him terrifyingly efficient.

But there was another side to it.

The memories did not discriminate.

Deep Memory Dive did not care whether the memory made him happy.

It did not care whether he wanted to see it.

Good memories remained clear.

So did horrible ones.

The Kobe earthquake was still buried inside him.

Years had passed since that disaster, yet whenever Zaboru allowed himself to recall it deeply, he could still see the body of the child they had discovered beneath the rubble. The small hands were still positioned around a ZGB, almost as though the child had held onto the handheld console until the very end.

Zaboru could remember the clothes.

The rubble.

The expression.

Everything.

Ordinary people sometimes survived terrible experiences because time slowly softened the details. Faces became less precise. Sounds disappeared. Painful moments transformed into incomplete fragments.

Zaboru did not always receive that mercy.

If Deep Memory Dive reached for something, it could bring the memory back with terrifying clarity.

The World Trade Center had now joined those memories.

Zaboru began crying harder.

"I knew…"

His voice cracked.

"I fucking knew something could happen…"

That was the part hurting him the most.

Before November 11, he had been uncertain. The attack in his previous life had happened on September 11, not November. This world was radically different. Countries were different, technologies had changed, companies had changed, politics had changed, and countless historical events no longer followed the exact same timeline.

He had no guarantee that the World Trade Center would be attacked.

But he had suspected it.

He had received the invitation.

He had investigated.

He had sent warnings.

And still, when the aircraft struck the building, a terrible part of his mind whispered that he should have done more.

Logically, Zaboru understood how unreasonable that thought was.

What was he supposed to do?

Walk into an American intelligence office and say, Hello, I was reincarnated from another universe and something similar happened there?

He would either be considered insane or immediately become the subject of an investigation lasting the rest of his life.

Even if he had somehow convinced someone to evacuate the World Trade Center, the attackers might simply have chosen another target.

There had been too many unknown variables.

But guilt did not always listen to logic.

Zaboru wiped his eyes roughly. "If I had stayed in Japan and just watched everything on television… I would've hated myself even more."

That was why he had flown to America so quickly.

At the time, he still had enormous responsibilities waiting in Japan. ZEPS 4 development continued. AKAI needed him. His businesses in Korea and China required decisions. His developers still relied on his guidance.

Most importantly, Ayumi was pregnant with twins.

Zenshin and Arumi were at home.

His family needed him too.

Flying directly into an active disaster zone had arguably been irresponsible.

Zaboru knew that.

If something happened to him, it would affect far more people than himself.

His wife could lose her husband.

His children could lose their father.

ZAGE could lose its leader during one of the most important periods in its history.

Thousands of employees could suddenly face uncertainty.

Even so, when he saw the news, he had not been able to remain seated.

He needed to go.

Perhaps part of that decision had been selfish.

Helping people allowed him to feel that he had at least done something.

But now he had created even more memories that Deep Memory Dive could preserve forever.

Zaboru lowered his head against the desk.

"I really am stupid…"

A familiar voice suddenly appeared inside his thoughts.

"Bro…"

Zaboru did not respond.

A moment later, the mental world around him shifted.

He found himself inside Emulator Mind, sitting within the familiar empty space where his thoughts could take form. Zaborn stood several steps away, watching him with an unusually serious expression.

"Bro… you okay?"

Zaboru stared at him with swollen eyes. "Do I look okay?"

"No. You look like shit."

Despite everything, a tiny laugh escaped Zaboru's mouth.

Zaborn walked closer and sat beside him. For once, the ghost did not immediately make another joke.

"You know it wasn't your fault, right?"

Zaboru looked down. "But I knew."

"Yeah."

"I knew something might happen."

"Yeah."

"And people still died."

Zaborn sighed. "Bro, knowing something might happen and actually having the power to stop it are completely different things."

Zaboru remained silent.

Zaborn continued, "What were you supposed to tell them? 'Hey guys, please evacuate the World Trade Center because in another universe terrorists crashed airplanes into it two months earlier than this?' Come on. Even I'm a fucking ghost and that sounds ridiculous."

Zaboru rubbed his face.

"You warned people anyway," Zaborn said. "You investigated. You prepared the rescue teams. Then when it actually happened, you went there and helped. You saved people who might have died otherwise."

"But not everyone."

Zaborn immediately looked toward him. "You were never going to save everyone."

The answer hurt.

But Zaboru knew it was true.

"You're one guy, bro. An insanely weird reincarnated guy with superpowers and too much money, but still one guy."

Zaboru gave him a tired glance. "Very comforting."

"I'm trying."

Zaborn leaned backward and stared into the endless Emulator Mind. "Actually, I'm more worried about something else."

"What?"

"You going to America personally."

Zaboru frowned.

Zaborn continued, "I understand why you did it. I really do. But you left Japan immediately even though Ayumi is pregnant, your kids are here, ZEPS 4 is entering an important stage, and your teams need you."

Zaboru looked away.

"You're not only responsible for strangers anymore," Zaborn said. "You have a family. You have thousands of people depending on you. Maybe millions if we count everything ZAGE does."

His voice softened. "Helping people is good. But if helping everyone means you destroy yourself, eventually you won't be able to help anybody."

Zaboru stayed quiet for a long time.

That was something he did not want to hear.

Which probably meant he needed to hear it.

Zaborn scratched the back of his head. "Coming from a ghost who literally lives inside your brain probably doesn't make this the greatest life advice ever, but… you need to think about yourself sometimes too, bro."

Zaboru sighed. "I hate that you're making sense."

"I hate it too. It ruins my reputation."

Another faint laugh escaped Zaboru.

The tension inside his chest did not disappear, but it loosened slightly.

Zaborn smiled when he noticed.

Then he tilted his head thoughtfully. "Also… I've been thinking."

"That sounds dangerous."

"Fuck you."

Zaboru chuckled.

Zaborn continued, "Your Deep Memory Dive is the problem, right? You can't forget these things. Kobe. New York. People you couldn't save. Even memories from your previous life."

Zaboru nodded.

"Well… why keep treating those memories only like punishment?"

Zaboru looked at him.

Zaborn shrugged. "You make games."

"So?"

"So make something from them."

Zaboru's expression slowly changed.

Zaborn leaned forward. "The memories you can't forget. The emotions. The fear. The guilt. The things you saw people doing for each other. Rescue workers going into dangerous places. Parents looking for their children. Strangers helping strangers."

He paused.

"Why not put those feelings somewhere?"

Zaboru stared at him silently.

Zaborn continued, "Not literally make a World Trade Center game tomorrow. That would be fucked up."

"Obviously."

"I mean use the memories. Maybe horror games. War games. Stories about disasters. Games about people surviving horrible situations. Maybe something emotional."

Zaboru's eyes widened slightly.

For years, he had mostly viewed Deep Memory Dive as a library.

Something that stored information.

Games.

Technology.

Entertainment.

Knowledge.

But memories were not only information.

They contained feelings.

Fear.

Love.

Regret.

Loss.

Hope.

The exact emotions that could transform an ordinary story into something meaningful.

Zaboru slowly smiled.

"You know, Zaborn…"

"Hm?"

"You're surprisingly helpful sometimes."

Zaborn placed a hand against his chest dramatically. "Sometimes?"

"Don't ruin it."

"Fine."

Zaboru leaned backward and looked into the endless mental space around them.

"Making games from memories I can't forget…"

He thought about the child beneath the rubble in Kobe.

He thought about New York.

He thought about firefighters climbing toward danger while civilians descended toward safety.

He thought about people carrying photographs of family members they desperately wanted to find.

He thought about his own previous life and all the things he had experienced before dying and awakening again as Zaboru Renkonan.

Perhaps Zaborn was right.

Deep Memory Dive was a curse because it refused to let painful things disappear.

But perhaps the gift was not only the ability to recreate games from another world.

Perhaps the gift was remembering what those experiences made him feel.

Zaboru wiped the remaining tears from his eyes. "Maybe I can make something special from them."

Zaborn smiled. "There you go."

"But not now."

"Definitely not now."

Zaboru laughed and pushed him lightly.

For a while, the two simply remained inside Emulator Mind talking about meaningless things. Games, food, stupid ideas, characters they could create, and increasingly ridiculous arguments that had nothing to do with terrorism or death.

Zaboru knew the memories would remain.

Tomorrow, he would still remember the faces.

Next year, he could still remember them.

Perhaps decades later, Deep Memory Dive could recreate them as clearly as if everything had happened yesterday.

He could not change that.

But he could change how he carried them.

Zaboru was powerful.

He was talented.

He possessed abilities no ordinary person could understand.

But he was still human.

Sometimes humans cried.

Sometimes they blamed themselves for things beyond their control.

And sometimes they needed a ghost living inside their brain to tell them they were being an idiot.

For tonight, that was enough.

What Zaboru did not know was that while he slowly tried to make peace with the memories haunting him, something else had already begun spreading outside ZAGE Campus.

Quietly at first.

A question appeared on several obscure American discussion boards.

Why had Zaboru Renkonan refused his invitation to the World Trade Center gathering?

Another user asked why the ZAGE Foundation had prepared its rescue units so quickly.

Then someone claimed that Zaboru had warned several government agencies before the attack.

None of those facts alone proved anything.

But placed beside each other, they created a story.

A few anonymous accounts began asking the same question again and again.

How did Zaboru know?

Then another name began appearing beside his.

Al-Qaeda.

By the time Zaboru finally left Emulator Mind and returned to his silent office, the rumours remained small enough

But they were spreading.

And somewhere in the darkness of the internet, someone was making sure they spread in exactly the right direction.

To be continued.

AN : Zaboru is just Normal human with cheat power and i want him to be able to grow… not perfect just human

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