Prologue:
A World That Measures Worth
Strength governs this world.
Not belief.
Not justice.
Not mercy.
Strength.
From the moment a human is born, their value is determined by a single factor: whether they possess a Gift—an ability that allows them to survive in a reality that no longer tolerates weakness.
To ensure order, the world built a system around power.
Every Gifted individual is bound to an Axiom Bracelet, a neural-linked device fused to the wearer's nervous system. It does not control thoughts, nor does it grant power. It observes, interprets, and records.
Through it, one's physical capability, Gift efficiency, and skill progression are quantified. Growth is monitored. New skills, when awakened, imprint themselves directly into the user's mind—knowledge arriving whole, complete, and unquestionable.
In this world, ignorance is not an excuse.
And weakness is not forgiven.
The Axiom Bracelet feeds its data into a global network, where power is tracked, ranked, and evaluated. Decisions—social, economic, and legal—are made based on what the system allows others to see.
What cannot be measured is considered unstable.
What is unstable is considered dangerous.
To govern such a world, strength alone is not enough.
Once every year, the strongest are summoned to a single event recognized by every nation, authority, and enforcement system on the planet.
A tournament.
Not one of honor.
Not one of glory.
But one of permission.
Those who prevail earn a seat at the High Table—a council of the world's most powerful individuals. From these seats, laws are written, restrictions are enforced, and Gifts themselves are regulated.
Abilities may be declared illegal.
Growth paths may be sealed.
Entire populations may be reclassified.
The Axiom system recognizes their authority.
The world obeys it.
At the center of the High Table sits the one acknowledged as strongest among them—the individual permitted to wear the Black Crown. Not a symbol, but a mark of dominance recognized by the system itself.
The bearer of the crown is named King, and their word shapes reality.
For the past three years, the seats have remained unchanged.
No challenger has succeeded.
No rule has been overturned.
No crown has been claimed.
In a world that measures everything, the truth is simple:
Power decides who lives.
The system decides who matters.
And only those who rise high enough are allowed to change the rules.
Ryder hurried down the stairs, tugging his shirt into place.
"Mom, I really have to go!" he called out, half-dressed and fully panicked.
From the kitchen came Catherine's voice, sharp and loving in equal measure.
"At least eat breakfast!"
Ryder grabbed a slice of bread, stuffed it into his mouth, and hopped on his right foot while shoving his left foot into a shoe. He looked like a man fighting a losing battle against time.
Catherine stepped out of the kitchen, holding a plate piled high with vegetables meant for Lizzy.
"Come on," she sighed, "you're always early. Just this once."
Ryder leaned down and kissed her cheek mid-rush, nearly missing. As he passed the table, he ruffled Lizzy's hair.
"Stay indoors, kiddo."
Catherine placed the plate in front of Lizzy, who was slouched at the dining table like life itself had personally offended her.
"Yeah, yeah… I know," Lizzy muttered lazily.
The moment her eyes landed on the plate, her face turned an alarming shade of green.
The front door slammed shut as Ryder bolted outside.
"Such a hard worker," Catherine said proudly, hands on her hips, smiling to herself.
"Mom?" Lizzy called.
"Yes, sweetie?" Catherine replied without turning.
"Don't you have work too?" Lizzy asked, pointing upward.
"—Crap!" Catherine shouted, realization hitting her like lightning. She spun around and sprinted upstairs.
Lizzy immediately grinned and gently pushed the plate of vegetables away.
From upstairs came Catherine's voice, somehow perfectly timed and terrifying.
"EAT YOUR VEGGIES, LIZZY!!!"
Lizzy jumped, nearly falling off her chair. She yanked the plate back toward her and began stuffing her mouth, her expression twisted in pure misery as she chewed.
The scene cuts to Ryder sprinting through the busy streets of Highord—the greatest city in the world.
It looked like New York two hundred years into the future. Towering buildings pierced the sky, holographic advertisements floated midair, and glowing signs danced between streets. Since real greenery was rare at ground level, plants and trees were grown inside homes, with crawling vines spilling from balconies and windows like the city was trying to breathe.
Every ad screen showed the same thing.
CROWN CONVERGENCE — THE GREATEST TOURNAMENT KNOWN TO MANKIND.
"God—how did I wake up late?" Ryder muttered as he weaved through pedestrians. "Today of all days… my boss is going to kill me."
The scene cuts again—
Ryder burst into his office like a man who had just lost a race against time, his face twisted into pure misery. He froze.
The office was empty.
He blinked.
Then he searched everywhere—behind shelves, inside cabinets, even under his desk. Finally, he straightened up and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Wheeeew… she's not here—"
"You're late."
The feminine voice came from behind him.
Ryder stiffened. Chills ran straight down his spine as fresh sweat immediately formed.
"H-Hi there, boss," he said nervously, turning around.
Standing in the shadows was a short blonde woman—cute, busty, dressed in a tight professional suit. Her eyes glowed faintly as she stared him down.
"You have one job," she said coldly. "Come early. Get me coffee. And use your dumb ability to create miniature 3D versions of our projects."
She pointed at him. "And you still can't do that."
Ryder muttered under his breath, "Is it just me, or does that not sound like one job…?"
She moved in a blur.
Before he could react, she grappled him and locked him into a brutal submission hold. Ryder slapped the floor desperately.
"WHAT WAS THAT?" she barked.
"I'm s—s-sorry!" Ryder gasped as the air was squeezed out of his lungs.
She released him and calmly straightened her shirt.
Ryder collapsed to the floor, sucking in air like his life depended on it—which it absolutely did.
"One more," she said, her tone suddenly calm. "One more time and you're fired."
"Yes, ma'am!" Ryder snapped into a salute.
She snapped her fingers and vanished in a puff.
Ryder let out a long sigh.
"She talks like I'm late all the time," he muttered. "This is literally the first time since I started working at this stupid construction company."
He dropped into his office chair, finally catching his breath.
His eyes drifted down to his wrist.
A high-tech black bracelet wrapped around it, purple lines pulsing softly—his Axiom Bracelet.
"Status," he said.
A blue holographic screen instantly projected outward.
Name: Ryder McKalliff
Age: 18
Address: West Baltimore Street, 30th Building
Strength: 7
Speed: 5
Agility: 6
Intelligence: 27
Stamina: 15
Power: 10
Energy: 197
Status: Worker
On the right side of the screen:
Skill: Ultra-Rare Ability — Shadow Forge (Lv. 3)
Allows the user to create non-living objects from shadow matter based on imagination.
Ryder stared at the word Worker.
In this world, there were only two classes—Fighters and Workers. Fighters ruled. Workers obeyed. A worker wasn't allowed to disobey a high-ranking fighter.
It wasn't surprising.
After all… this world belonged to fighters.
Ryder stretched out his hand and focused.
The shadows in his office were pulled toward him, swirling into mist before condensing into a black katana etched with faint, pulsing red cracks.
"I'm sure with Shadow Forge," he whispered, "I could stand my ground as a fighter. And with enough training… I could reach the High Table."
His grip tightened.
"And maybe then… I could erase the rule that says the ungifted must die."
"STOP DREAMING AND GET TO WORK!!"
His boss's voice blasted through the office speaker.
Ryder yelped, nearly dropping the katana. It flipped awkwardly through the air before he barely caught it and hugged it to his chest in panic.
He quickly dispersed the shadow matter, letting it dissolve back into nothing.
Taking a breath, he focused again—this time forming a miniature arena on his desk.
And got to work.
The scene cuts to Catherine kneeling in front of Lizzy, gently kissing her forehead before heading for the door. She opens it, then pauses.
She turns back.
"What's the number one rule, sweetie?"
"Mom," Lizzy groaned, already knowing where this was going. "I say this all the time. I've got it."
Catherine's smile faded just a little.
"I need to hear you say it, Liz."
Lizzy sighed, slumping back in her chair.
"Never leave the house. At all costs."
"Good," Catherine said, her smile returning. "And remember, if—"
"If I ever need anything, call you or Ryder to come home immediately," Lizzy interrupted quickly. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. Now go."
Catherine laughed softly.
"Love you, sweetie."
"Love you too."
The door closed.
Then locked.
The moment Catherine left, Lizzy's phone buzzed.
You coming, White Eagle?
Lizzy's lips curled into a grin.
Wouldn't miss it for the world, she typed back.
She hopped off her chair and ran to Ryder's room, pushing open the window. Cool air rushed in as she leaned out.
Down below stood her friends—Anna and Hana, the pink-haired twins, and Bruce, a brown-haired boy with face paint smeared across his cheeks.
Lizzy glanced back at the closed door.
"Sorry, Mom," she whispered.
Then she opened the window wider.
The scene cuts back to Ryder.
A cute, dark-haired coworker—Sheena—steps into his office.
"Presentation starts in five," she says casually, already turning to leave.
Ryder jolts upright and immediately follows her.
"Today's the launch of the Crown Convergence," she continues as they walk. "Our company was honored with remodeling the arena. Unfortunately…" she glances sideways, "…it's not finished."
Ryder winces.
"So we'll give them a glimpse of what we planned to do," she adds. "Which means—you, my friend, are going to use that skill of yours to fill in what we couldn't finish in time."
Ryder exhales, pulls off his shirt, loosens his slightly-too-tight tie, and cracks his neck.
"…Guess it's showtime."
The scene cuts—
Outside the arena, millions of people flood the streets. Inside, the roar of the crowd shakes the structure itself.
Cheering. Screaming. Chanting.
A hot female host strides onto the massive stage, her smile dazzling. Behind her, a giant hologram mirrors her every movement.
"ARE YOU READY—" her voice booms, "FOR THE GREATEST TOURNAMENT OF ALL TIME?!"
The crowd explodes.
Scene cuts to Lizzy.
Lizzy and her friends weave through the crowd, laughing and giggling as excitement buzzes in the air. Lizzy subtly pulls down her sweater sleeves, covering her wrists—making sure no one notices the absence of an Axiom Bracelet.
Meanwhile—
Catherine sat trapped in unmoving traffic, honking uselessly as frustration built. She had forgotten important documents at home and was already running late.
Then—
Her breath caught.
A group of kids ran across the street three cars ahead.
Her heart skipped.
She leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
"…No," she muttered. "That can't be her."
She sat frozen for five seconds.
Then she threw open the car door.
Scene cuts to Lizzy's POV.
"This is gonna be mad," Anna giggled.
"For once, I agree," Bruce said, grinning.
"So many awesome fighters are gonna participate," Hana added. "Fighters from all over the world."
She suddenly stopped and raised a fist dramatically.
"Guys—let's all become fighters and form a team someday!"
"Yeah!!" the three shouted in sync.
They turned.
Lizzy was quiet, staring ahead.
"Yeah… right," she said with a shy smile.
The moment they looked away, her smile faded—guilt sinking deep into her chest.
The host continued pacing the stage, voice rising with practiced excitement.
"For the first time in history, the Crown Convergence will not only decide power—" she spread her arms wide, "—but redefine the future of our world!"
The crowd roared.
"And today, you will witness something never done before."
The lights dimmed.
Beneath the stage, Ryder stood in the shadows, breathing steadily. His hands trembled slightly—not from fear, but from focus.
"Okay… don't mess this up," he muttered.
Above him, the host smiled brightly.
"Our partners at Highord Construction were tasked with remodeling the arena—"
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"And while the project wasn't completed in time," she continued, pausing just long enough to build tension, "they promised us something unforgettable."
Ryder closed his eyes.
The shadows beneath the arena moved.
Cracks, unfinished segments, exposed framework—every shadow they cast stretched unnaturally, pulling inward. Black mist flooded the gaps, condensing, hardening, shaping itself into solid form.
Walls sealed. Platforms extended. Massive structures rose like living things.
The arena transformed.
Gasps echoed everywhere.
Some people stood. Others pointed. Cameras flashed wildly.
Ryder's sapphire eyes glowed faintly as he pushed himself harder, shadows crawling over steel and stone, filling every imperfection with precision.
"…Got you," he whispered.
In the crowd, Lizzy and her friends stared in awe.
"That's insane," Anna breathed.
"Did you see that?" Bruce said. "That's not even normal construction tech."
Lizzy's chest tightened.
She knew that shadow.
She pulled her sleeves down instinctively, then smiled softly to herself.
"…You're so awesome, big bro."
High above, city cameras swept across the audience—faces scanned, data verified. Designed to catch criminals hiding in crowds.
One lens slowed.
Hovered.
Lizzy's heart skipped.
Before it could focus—
A hand wrapped tightly around her wrist.
Lizzy gasped as her vision spun—and suddenly her back was pressed against someone solid.
Someone familiar.
"Don't move," Catherine whispered sharply, her body angled just enough to block the camera's view. Her grip was firm—almost painful.
Lizzy looked up.
"M—Mom?!"
Catherine's eyes burned with fear and fury.
"You are in so much trouble, young lady."
"What are you doing here?!" Lizzy hissed, shocked, angry, embarrassed all at once. "You scared me!"
"I forgot documents," Catherine said tightly. "Then I saw you in the street."
She started pulling Lizzy away.
Lizzy yanked her arm back.
"Stop! What are you doing?!"
Her friends stared.
Lizzy crossed her arms defensively.
"I asked you what you're doing here, Mom."
Catherine leaned closer, lowering her voice.
"It's dangerous. We need to go home. Now."
"Hey—mom, it's just this once," Lizzy snapped. "Everyone's here! I didn't even do anything!"
Catherine glanced around—guards, cameras, scanning drones.
"Lizzy," she whispered, her voice shaking despite her effort to stay calm, "this isn't a game. You know the rules."
Lizzy clenched her fists.
"You're always like this! I can't even breathe without you panicking!"
"That's because the world doesn't forgive mistakes," Catherine shot back quietly. "Especially ones like this."
"I'm not a baby!" Lizzy snapped. "You're embarrassing me!"
Catherine's expression cracked—not anger, but fear.
"I'm trying to keep you alive," she said softly. "Please."
Lizzy hesitated.
Her friends were watching. People were cheering. The arena glowed with impossible beauty.
Then she looked at her mother's eyes.
They were trembling.
"…Fine," Lizzy muttered. "Whatever."
Catherine didn't waste a second. She grabbed Lizzy's hand and pulled her into the moving crowd.
But behind them—
One camera adjusted its angle.
Zoomed.
Caught a glimpse of Lizzy's wrist.
No Axiom Bracelet.
Deep inside the security office—
A red alert flashed.
UNREGISTERED INDIVIDUAL DETECTED.
An alarm began to sound.
The camera feed shifted.
After catching the absence of Lizzy's Axiom Bracelet, the system recalibrated—locking onto the nearest registered guardian.
Catherine's bracelet pulsed.
IDENTITY CONFIRMED.
NAME: Catherine McKalliff
ADDRESS: West Baltimore Street, 30th Building
STATUS: REGISTERED GIFTED — CIVILIAN
A red marker blinked.
PROXIMITY TO UNREGISTERED INDIVIDUAL CONFIRMED.
Within seconds, black-armored figures mobilized.
Hovering motorcycles ignited with low, violent hums. Armored vehicles lifted from underground docks, gliding between buildings like predators released from cages.
GUARD UNITS DEPLOYED.
Catherine didn't stop running until the door slammed shut behind her.
She locked it.
Then bolted the second lock.
Her chest rose and fell violently as she turned on Lizzy.
"Do you have any idea what you just did?!" Catherine shouted, fear bleeding into anger. "One mistake—one—can get us all killed!"
Lizzy flinched.
"You think I don't know that?!" Lizzy shot back, tears already welling. "You think I don't feel it every single day?!"
Catherine rubbed her face, pacing.
"You can't go outside. You can't be seen. You can't act like this world is fair, because it's not!"
"I KNOW!" Lizzy screamed.
Her voice cracked.
"I know it's not fair! That's the problem!"
Silence hit the room like a wall.
Lizzy's fists clenched at her sides.
"I'm always inside," she said shakily. "Always hiding. Always alone. I hear people outside laughing… talking… living."
Her tears fell freely now.
"I don't have friends. I don't have a bracelet. I don't have anything."
Catherine opened her mouth—
Lizzy didn't stop.
"Why didn't I get a gift?" she sobbed. "Why am I the weird one? Why am I the mistake everyone has to hide?"
"That's not—"
"I'm a burden!" Lizzy yelled. "All I ever do is make things harder for you and Ryder! All I want is to be normal!"
She wiped her eyes violently.
"If Dad was here… I'm sure he'd understand."
The words cut deep.
Catherine froze.
"…Your father?" she whispered.
Her fear snapped—turning into raw anger.
"Your father?" Catherine repeated, voice rising. "Your father?!"
She stepped forward, hands shaking.
"Let me tell you something," she said bitterly. "Your father isn't dead. He left."
Lizzy's eyes widened.
"He wasn't some hero," Catherine continued, pain spilling out unchecked. "He was a coward. He couldn't stand breaking the rules. When I decided to keep you—when I chose you—he walked away."
Her voice broke.
"He abandoned us."
The words hung heavy.
Lizzy stumbled back like she'd been struck.
"…You're lying," she whispered.
She turned and ran.
"Lizzy—wait—!" Catherine reached out, but it was too late.
A door slammed upstairs.
Muffled sobbing echoed through the house.
Catherine stood there—then slowly sank to the floor.
"…I'm sorry," she whispered to no one.
Meanwhile—
Ryder collapsed against a concrete wall beneath the arena, completely drained. His hands trembled, his breath shallow.
"Damn… that took everything," he muttered.
He tilted his head back—
And froze.
Black dots streaked across the sky.
Hovering vehicles.
Guard insignias.
They were moving fast.
Toward home.
Ryder's blood ran cold.
"…No," he breathed.
His smile vanished, replaced by pure fear.
He bolted.
Pulling out his phone, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.
The phone rang.
Catherine wiped her tears and shakily picked up.
"Ryder—?"
"RUN!" Ryder shouted. "Mom, run! They found you! Take Lizzy and run!"
The words hit Catherine like boulders.
Her eyes widened in horror.
She dropped the phone and rushed upstairs.
"Lizzy!" she cried, throwing the door open.
Before she could reach her—
"LET GO OF ME!" Lizzy screamed.
Catherine froze.
Black-armored guards flooded the room, weapons raised, armor humming with power.
One of them shouted, voice amplified and cold.
"CATHERINE MCKALLIFF! FREEZE!"
Lizzy struggled in a guard's grip.
"Mom! Help!"
Catherine's hands rose slowly.
Her heart shattered.
"…Please," she whispered. "She's just a child."
The guards didn't respond.
Ryder reached his street.
And stopped.
An angry mob surrounded his home—dozens of people packed tightly together, voices overlapping in rage and excitement.
"What's going on?"
"Move back!"
"Hey—watch it, dude!"
Ryder shoved forward.
"Hey!"
"Watch it!"
"Don't push!"
Hands grabbed at him. Someone nearly tripped him. He forced his way through, heart pounding, breath shallow, not fully understanding why his body was shaking so badly.
Then—
He saw it.
The world went silent.
Sound drained away. Color dulled. His chest forgot how to rise.
Lizzy.
Her small body lay twisted on the ground, her lifeless eyes staring at nothing. Blood pooled beneath her head—too much blood. A clean, horrible hole sat between her eyes.
Ryder forgot how to breathe.
His eyes widened, but they didn't blink.
His body didn't move.
His mind didn't think.
Then he saw Catherine.
She was on her knees, cradling Lizzy's body, rocking back and forth as tears soaked her face. Her hands were shaking, covered in her daughter's blood.
Catherine looked up.
Their eyes met.
Ryder stood frozen.
A soldier stepped forward, black armor gleaming, gun raised calmly toward Catherine.
"You broke the third rule," the soldier announced coldly.
"You harbored an ungifted. That crime is punishable by instant execution."
People recorded everything.
"Kill that scum!"
"Traitor!"
"How could she do that?"
"Just get it over with!"
Ryder tried to scream.
Nothing came out.
He pushed forward again, stumbling through the crowd—but Catherine raised her hand.
Stop.
She smiled at him.
Soft. Gentle. The same smile she used every morning.
Her lips moved.
I'm sorry.
Bang.
The gunshot cracked through the air.
Catherine's body collapsed beside Lizzy's.
Something inside Ryder shattered.
His ears rang violently—and then sound rushed back all at once.
"Wait… didn't she have a son?" someone murmured.
Ryder's heart slammed.
People turned.
Eyes searched.
Fear exploded inside him.
He turned and ran.
"HEY!"
"That kid—!"
"CATCH HIM!"
A soldier pointed.
"Catch that kid!!"
Ryder ran.
Run run run run run.
His legs moved on instinct alone. His vision blurred—flashes of Lizzy smiling, Catherine laughing, blood, blood, blood.
He tripped.
Hit the ground hard.
His hands flailed uselessly as he scrambled back up. Snot ran down his nose. Tears poured freely.
He didn't stop.
He couldn't.
Guards chased him. Some fighters joined in, hungry for spectacle.
After what felt like hours, Ryder turned sharply into a narrow alley. He summoned what little strength he had left—shadows twisted, bent, obscured his path.
He lost them.
Ryder collapsed against a wall.
He tried to breathe.
His lungs refused.
Air wouldn't enter. His chest burned. His hands clawed at his throat as panic swallowed him whole.
"…This isn't real," he whispered, laughing weakly.
"This… this is a dream."
A broken smile stretched across his face.
"Yeah… I'm dreaming."
Lizzy's face flashed before his eyes.
Catherine's smile.
Blood.
Reality slammed into him.
Pain exploded across his jaw.
He hit the wall hard.
"You forgot something," a soldier sneered. "We can track you."
A camera zoomed in on his glowing Axiom Bracelet.
"You can't run from us."
Another punch crashed into his stomach.
Ryder vomited blood onto the ground.
"So you pricks hid an ungifted for that long?" the soldier laughed, punching him again.
"I'll give you credit—you did well."
Ryder's vision swam.
"All of you…" he stammered weakly, blood dripping from his mouth.
"…you're scum."
A kick landed on his ribs.
"You killed two innocent people," he coughed. "They never hurt anyone."
Three guards surrounded him.
"You're one to talk, dipshit!"
They stomped him.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Bones screamed. Flesh tore. Something inside him broke completely.
Kill them.
Kill them all.
Every single one.
That was all he wanted.
A screen burst into existence before his eyes—glowing purple.
STATUS UPDATE — PROCESSING…
Another screen layered over it.
Shadow Forge has evolved.
New Skill Acquired: Dark Overlord
New Skill Unlocked: Gate Keeper
A final prompt appeared.
Would you like to use this skill?
YES / NO
His mind screamed.
Yes.
The moment he chose—
The alley darkened.
Shadows stretched unnaturally, peeling away from walls, ground, and bodies. Ryder's shadow expanded, swallowing the alley whole.
The guards froze.
"What the hell—?!"
The ground beneath them vanished.
They screamed as reality folded inward, like a massive black mouth opening beneath their feet.
They sank.
Dragged down.
Pulled screaming into endless darkness.
The shadows closed.
Silence returned.
After the endless fall—
They slammed into the ground.
Ryder's body bounced once, then rolled across cracked earth before stopping face-down. Pain exploded through him, but he barely reacted. His mind was still somewhere far away.
Ash drifted down from the sky like snow.
He slowly lifted his head.
The world was wrong.
Two massive black suns hung in the sky, bleeding faint crimson light through thick, churning clouds. The air was heavy, choking, filled with the stench of rot and burnt metal. Collapsed skyscrapers and broken structures littered the land—some human, some not. Skulls were half-buried in the ash. Skeletons lay scattered like discarded tools.
From the distance came animalistic screeches, warped and unnatural, echoing across the wasteland.
The guards scrambled to their feet.
"W-Where the hell are we?!" one shouted, panic cracking his voice.
Another spun toward Ryder, eyes wild.
"This is your fault, kid!"
Ryder didn't answer.
He didn't even blink.
"What did you do?!" a guard roared, grabbing him by the collar. "Send us back!"
Nothing.
Just an empty stare.
The guard raised his fist—
Something moved.
Too fast.
A shadow streaked past them, slicing through the ash-filled air.
All three guards froze.
"…Did you see that?" one whispered.
They immediately activated their abilities.
One's body hardened, skin turning dark and metallic—Hardness.
Another ignited in roaring flames—Pyrokinesis.
The third snarled as his muscles expanded violently—Berserk, veins bulging, eyes bloodshot.
"Come out!" the fire-user shouted, flames spiraling around him.
"You coward!"
"Come and fight us!"
"SHOW YOURSELF!"
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Footsteps.
Slow. Heavy.
They came from behind.
All three guards turned at once.
From the hollow remains of a destroyed building, a figure stepped forward.
"Y-Yeah!" one guard forced a laugh. "That's it—come and face us!"
The figure entered the light.
It wasn't human.
It wasn't animal.
Its wings were torn and blackened, feathers dripping a thick, dark fluid that looked like blood. Its face was pale and hollow, eyes sunken deep into its skull—crying streams of crimson. A dark angel, twisted and wrong.
Ryder felt it.
Death.
Cold hands wrapped around every neck present.
One guard tried to speak.
He couldn't feel his body.
He couldn't hear his own voice.
All he could see was the creature's face—suddenly inches from his own.
The world snapped.
The camera pulled back.
The creature stood still, holding the soldier's severed head high in the air.
The other two guards were already dead—bodies torn apart, scattered across the ash in pieces.
The angel's mouth stretched unnaturally wide.
And swallowed the head whole.
Crunch.
Silence.
It turned.
Looked toward where Ryder had been lying.
He wasn't there.
Ryder was running.
He didn't know where. He didn't care.
Flying creatures screamed overhead, massive shadows passing across the ground. Towering beasts roamed the distance—fangs, claws, glowing eyes—things straight out of nightmares.
Everything here can kill me.
That thought burned into his mind.
He slipped, stumbled, nearly fell—but kept running.
Finally, he dove into a narrow, pitch-black cave, collapsing against the wall. His chest burned as he gasped desperately for air.
He covered his mouth.
Didn't cry.
Didn't scream.
He just sat there, shaking, ash clinging to his hair and clothes.
"…What the hell is this place?" he whispered.
No answer came.
Only distant screeches.
And the feeling—
That this world had noticed him.