I Have Nothing to Say About Cosplaying an Operator

At eighteen, Lin Xi's biggest problem in life was that the bangs on his cosplay wig kept sticking up at the convention.

Then, dressed in his silver-gray cosplay outfit, he was swept through a rift into the ruins of Shibuya. Yuji Itadori stood in front of him, Gojo Satoru was in the distance, smoke drifted overhead, and curses crawled across the ground.

The prop staff-sword he'd made out of EVA foam had become real.

"Mr. Silvergray, please complete your mission: survive in this world and repair the worldline."

...Wait, System, take a good look at me. I'm a cosplayer.

The good news: Silvergray's face and bearing really could fool people.

The bad news: He's eighteen, his real name isn't "Silvergray," and if he fails the mission, he might never get home.

Now he's carrying an intricately made staff-sword, a System that only knows how to give him missions, and a cosplay outfit hidden beneath a cloak that can't conceal how nervous he is. He rushes into crises across different worlds, drawing his sword to save people, only to be mistaken for a "mysterious Western swordsman," a "lost sorcerer," or a "retired assassin"...

Lin Xi's hand grows steadier on his sword, and he spends more and more time playing the "Snowfield Swordsman," until sometimes he forgets who he was before. But in every world, he meets friends.

At last, Lin Xi completes every mission.

The System floats before him, looking as familiar as a dream he's been having for a long time.

"You've finally remembered," he says. "Doctor."

...Wait a minute. Who's the Doctor?

Theme: If the footprints of our lives will one day be buried beneath the dust of time, then we must never stop moving.