The world awoke to chaos.
Every news broadcast, every screen, every corner of the globe showed the same thing — footage of Han Soo-Min's defeat. A titan of light, the unbreakable Korean champion, fallen in battle beneath the earth of a ruined French city. His sword, Dawnpiercer, once a symbol of hope, now lay split in half among the ashes.
The image looped endlessly: a figure standing over him, wreathed in violet flame — Adrian Leclerc, The Abyssal King.
The world trembled.
Across continents, nations panicked. Heroic academies went on lockdown. Governments issued global emergencies. Civilians evacuated entire cities near mana hotspots. For the first time in a century, the Heroic Council had lost faith in its own invincibility.
---
Inside the Council's crystalline tower in Geneva, silence reigned. Holographic feeds projected the footage of the battle, looping again and again. The floor was cracked — someone had slammed their fist through it earlier.
Arthur Lenoir stood at the center, motionless, watching his old rival disappear into the shadows.
Behind him, council members shouted — diplomats, generals, analysts, all talking at once.
> "We can't hide this from the world!"
"He's beyond A-Rank classification!"
"How did we lose two of the top ten in a single month?"
"Enough," Arthur's voice cut through them like a blade.
The room fell silent.
He turned toward the central console. "Deploy the Omega Directive."
The councilors froze. "The Omega…? That hasn't been authorized in—"
Arthur's eyes flared gold. "Authorize it now."
A trembling technician nodded and began inputting the codes. The Omega Directive — the last-resort mobilization of the ten strongest living heroes on Earth.
> [Global Directive Confirmed.]
[Operation Dawnfall — Engaged.]
Arthur's reflection flickered in the glass. Beneath the steel of his resolve, a shadow of guilt haunted him.
"Adrian…" he murmured. "What have we turned you into?"
---
Far below, in the ruins of his underground fortress, Adrian sat alone in the dim glow of the core chamber.
Han Soo-Min's energy still resonated within his system — faint traces of light buried under the corruption that now consumed him.
> [Core synchronization: 82% → 84%.]
[Warning: Cognitive Drift Detected.]
He ignored the system message. His mind was drifting somewhere between lucidity and madness, memory and illusion.
He saw flashes — his mother's smile, his father's voice, the laughter of the crowd that once mocked him.
Their faces warped, twisting into specters whispering in his ear.
> "Failure."
"Reject."
"Monster."
He pressed his hands to his temples. "Shut up…"
The voices grew louder. "You killed them all."
"You became the very thing you hated."
Adrian's breathing became shallow. He punched the wall — stone cracked and dust fell.
> "I killed because they made me this way!" he roared. "They built this world of hypocrisy — I only tore it down!"
A voice answered from behind. "Then who built you, Adrian?"
He turned sharply. Selene stood in the doorway, her cloak torn, her expression unreadable.
She had been watching him unravel for days. Each victory brought power — and more decay.
"Your power's growing," she said quietly. "But your sanity isn't keeping up."
Adrian chuckled darkly. "Sanity? Tell me, Selene, what's sanity in a world that worships false gods and calls them heroes?"
"You're not wrong," she said, stepping closer, "but that doesn't make you right either."
He met her gaze — violet eyes burning like dying stars. "You sound like them."
"I'm nothing like them," she shot back. "But I remember the man who wanted to change this world… not bury it."
Adrian's lips twitched. For a brief second, his expression softened — just a shadow of the man he once was. But then the system whispered again:
> [Emotion Suppression Mode: Active.]
His gaze went empty.
"Leave," he said coldly. "Before I forget why you matter."
Selene hesitated, then stepped back into the dark corridor. Her heart clenched — she could feel him slipping away, piece by piece.
When she was gone, Adrian turned toward the mirror-core once more. His reflection flickered, half-human, half-shadow. The more he stared, the less he recognized himself.
---
Days passed. Across the globe, preparations began.
In Lagos, Taye Okonkwo, the African combat priest, knelt before an ancient altar. His body was covered in glowing sigils of gold, his skin scarred from countless battles. Around him, hundreds of spirit-warriors prayed in silence.
He looked up toward the sky, his deep voice echoing through the hall. "The world bleeds. The light flickers. If we do not act now, it will drown in shadow."
One of the apprentices asked timidly, "Do you think you can defeat him, Master?"
Taye smiled faintly. "Defeat? I don't aim to defeat him. I aim to save him — or die trying."
---
Meanwhile, in Japan, the twin sisters Akari and Nozomi — the "Blades of Eternity" — watched the footage of Han's fall. Their expressions were grim.
"He fought with honor," Akari said softly.
Nozomi nodded. "And died for it."
They turned toward the east, where the night sky shimmered with faint purple veins of energy.
"The storm's spreading," Nozomi whispered. "The Abyss is waking."
---
Back in France, Adrian stood on the ruins of his fortress, watching the snow melt under the heat of his aura.
He could feel it — them. The others were coming. Stronger. More desperate. The world was assembling its last defenders.
And he was ready.
But beneath that readiness… something else stirred. Something he didn't understand.
The voices were changing.
Where once there had been anger, now there was emptiness.
He no longer heard screams or taunts — only whispers of nothingness. The silence of a man who had lost even his hatred.
He touched his chest.
His heartbeat was faint.
> "What am I becoming?" he muttered.
The system replied, almost gently:
> [Evolution Imminent.]
[Stage Transition — Abyssal Core Awakening.]
[Warning: Loss of emotional identity is irreversible beyond this point.]
Adrian closed his eyes.
The thought didn't scare him anymore.
---
Far above, in the Council tower, Arthur gathered the remaining S-Rank heroes. The room glowed with magic and tension.
"This is it," Arthur said. "We move in three days. The operation will be global. Adrian Leclerc must be stopped — permanently."
The room fell silent. No one spoke.
Taye's voice broke the quiet through the holographic feed. "If he must be stopped, then it will be with purpose. Killing him won't fix the system that created him."
Arthur looked up. "Maybe not. But it will give the world time to rebuild."
He placed his helmet under his arm, his gaze hardening. "I'll be the one to face him in the end. No one else."
---
That night, Adrian stood alone in the valley. The sky churned — thunder rolling in unnatural patterns, streaks of violet lightning tearing across the clouds.
He raised his hand, feeling the storm's rhythm synchronize with his heartbeat.
Every element of nature bent to his will — the final proof that he was no longer bound by human law or divine light.
He whispered into the storm, his voice trembling between man and god.
> "Let them come… I will show them what rejection truly creates."
The ground split open, veins of purple light bursting outward. His aura expanded across miles, corrupting the snow, the earth, the sky.
Somewhere far away, alarms blared in Council HQ.
Arthur looked out the window — and for the first time, even he hesitated.