In her original world, she had been an observer at the Royal Astronomical Observatory, with an A-rank magic rating.
Although she wasn't suited for combat magic, she was an expert in observation, analysis, and magic construction.
She had drawn countless magic arrays and studied infinite paths of magic circulation.
She wasn't yet sure what these abilities could do in this world.
But at least one thing was clear: magic existed in this world too.
She had felt it the moment she transmigrated. The air here was permeated with extremely thin magic, so faint it was almost negligible, but its distribution was incredibly vast.
This didn't seem like a naturally occurring magical environment. It felt more like something was constantly releasing trace amounts of magic into every corner of this world.
Rather than dwelling on that, she needed to solve her lodging situation for the night first.
Qiluo spent about two hours exploring the surrounding blocks, eventually finding a relatively secluded spot in an alley behind a shopping street.
With a few pieces of cardboard and a simple warming array drawn with magic in the corner, she wrapped herself in her robe and lay down, using her arm as a pillow, even though she knew it would be numb when she woke up.
Above her was a narrow strip of sky, where the star of doom flickered in and out of sight between the buildings.
Closing her eyes, she began to take stock of her situation. Penniless, homeless, unidentified, stranded in an alternate world, and with an ominous star of death growing brighter right above her head.
Ah, what a truly terrible situation.
But her magic was still intact, the pineapple buns looked delicious, and, most importantly, she was alive.
Surviving a planar transmigration without disintegrating was a miracle in itself.
The magic array she had drawn must have had some special structure she hadn't even realized, or she could never have made a safe crossing without any protection.
Once she settled down, she would need to carefully reconstruct and analyze the structure of that array.
But first, she had to gain a foothold in this world.
Qiluo rolled over on the cardboard, pulling her robe up to her chin. The cool early autumn night breeze swept through the alley, and the warming array hummed almost imperceptibly, maintaining a thin layer of warm air around her.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered to the wall, “tomorrow, I'll first figure out what this world's currency looks like.”
“Ugh, I want to eat so badly. I want bread, grilled meat, milk...”
Her stomach growled again. Qiluo could only close her eyes. Sleep, sleep. Once asleep, she wouldn't feel hungry.
She could only comfort herself this way.
And so, she fell asleep in the alley of this foreign world.
She dreamed of that star.
In her dream, the star of death was thousands of times brighter than in reality, transforming into a giant eye that looked down on her.
Something was squirming deep within the pupil of that eye. A voice drifted out from it, muffled and indistinct, as if trying to speak.
Qiluo frowned in her sleep.
“...Could you be quiet? I'm sleeping.”
The eye fell silent for a moment, then slowly closed.
Qiluo rolled over with satisfaction, and her dream plunged into a deeper darkness.
The next morning, she was awakened by the chirping of birds.
Qiluo opened her eyes and saw a small gray bird perched on the edge of the trash can, tilting its head to look at her.
“Morning,” she said.
The bird flew away.
Qiluo sat up, rubbing her stiff shoulders. The warming array had worked better than expected, but cardboard and asphalt were ultimately no substitute for a comfortable bed.
Her neck ached slightly, a red mark had been pressed into her left arm by the edge of the cardboard, and a small withered leaf had somehow gotten caught in her hair.
She took a magic crystal from her belt and used it to cast a cleaning spell.
A pale blue light swept over her body, clearing away the dust and any odor. This was a basic utility spell known to every mage, used to maintain basic hygiene during field operations.
Once the light faded, she at least no longer looked like someone who had spent the night sleeping next to a trash can.
Then Qiluo unfolded her robe and began to plan her day.
Food. Identity. Information. These were the three things she needed most right now. Food could be bartered for with magic crystals—not everywhere would only accept cash like that convenience store last night. There would always be someone interested in a glowing little stone.
Her identity needed to be handled more carefully. She needed a name, a plausible background story, and corresponding identification documents. Information meant she needed to understand the basic structure of this world and grasp its common sense.
Just like in her original world, if a mage didn't know how to cast a fireball, there was definitely something wrong with their head.
The name was the easiest part.
Qiluo turned her robe inside out and found the star-trail pattern embroidered with silver thread on the lining. It was the symbol of the observatory, consisting of seven dots of varying sizes arranged in specific orbits, representing the seven major stars observed in her world. Embroidered beneath the pattern was her position number and her name—Vina.
One look at this name and anyone could tell it didn't belong here.
She needed a localized name.
Qiluo stood up, folded her robe again, tucked it under her arm, and walked out of the alley.
The streets in the early morning were much quieter than in the evening. Most of the shops were not yet open, and only a few brightly lit, colorful storefronts still had their lights on—definitely not the most respectable establishments.
But to familiarize herself with the aesthetics of this world, she should definitely check them out later. It was a necessary step for survival in another world.
Qiluo nodded, successfully convincing herself.
She walked slowly down the street, observing her surroundings while combining syllables in her mind.
Passing by a bookstore, she stopped. The display window featured current bestsellers, with the authors' names printed on the covers. She scanned them one by one: Aya, Mari, Misaki, Chinatsu... The names of this world had a rhythm she liked—short syllables with clean endings.
“Tian Gong.”
She suddenly uttered the word. She didn't remember where she had seen it—perhaps a sign she had passed last night, or maybe a syllable she had heard in her dream.
When the word "Tian Gong" left her lips, it felt strangely fitting. A person who observed the stars at an observatory, coming to a new world, living in a place where she could see the sky—Tian Gong.
As for the given name, "Qiluo."
She had gotten this word from the subtitle of a novel in the bookstore window. The cover depicted a woman in gorgeous attire, with the words "Qiluo Star" printed next to her.
Qiluo—fine silk, which also referred to the brilliance of stars. It shared a similar imagery with her original name, which meant "faint light" in the ancient tongue of her world.
Qiluo Tian Gong.
Qiluo—no, from now on, Qiluo Tian Gong. She repeated the name three times in her mind.
“Alright,” she nodded at her blurry reflection in the bookstore window. “From today on, my name is Qiluo Tian Gong.”
The girl in the reflection had light-colored long hair, her face obscured by the glare on the glass.
But Qiluo felt those eyes looked a bit more spirited than yesterday. Perhaps it was because she now had a name—names were truly wondrous things.
Rate on N.U.
