Chapter 1: The Past
The sun was merciless. Sweat poured from his brow and hands, dripping onto the scorched earth. Yet, a resolve as unshakable as a mountain dragged him forward. But how did it come to this?
Let us go back several years... to a day that had begun like any other.
At least, as ordinary as a day could be for the inhabitants of this island. For outsiders, survival here was a struggle they rarely won. To put it simply, they didn't last long at all. In the market, the cacophony of vendors was enough to deafen the very walls. The sun beat down with a brutal intensity, yet the islanders moved as though it were a mild spring morning. Children sprinted and played through the alleys; adventurers shared boisterous jokes and laughter.
The day was unfolding normally until a man's eyes suddenly went wide, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. He froze in his tracks and let out a piercing scream:
"METEOR!"
It was broad daylight, yet the blinding light of a massive, swift object defied the sun itself. It burned the retinas of those who dared to look. A meteor!
Moments later, shrouded in a terrifying halo of fire, it struck the earth with a cataclysmic force. A colossal pillar of dust erupted into the sky, thick enough to blot out the sun in some areas, leaving a clear trail to the impact site. Everyone swallowed hard, their bodies trembling—torn between a primal curiosity and an instinctive dread.
They moved toward the crash site. The nobles and the wealthy set out in their carriages—though such vehicles were useless on this rugged terrain. Some galloped on horseback, others scrambled to borrow mounts, and the rest trekked on foot. Among the crowd were certain individuals whose faces remained hidden, obscured by their hoods.
After crossing jagged hills, rivers, and narrow plains, they finally reached the crater. A hush fell over them as they approached the strange sight. It was a massive, unnatural pit—three meters deep and twenty meters wide. Veins of an eerie, magical violet glow pulsed along the walls of the crater and across the surface of the meteorite itself. A fragment of the stone had broken away, revealing a crystal of shimmering violet magic embedded within the hardened rock. It emitted a soft, rhythmic glow—a silent testament to its power.
Slowly, the fire in their hearts dimmed. The trembling stopped as their curiosity was sated and their fear began to subside. With heavy hearts and eyes fixed on the ground, the people began to return to their homes.
However, the hooded figures remained at the edge of the pit. They stared down for a short while, their eyes cold and clinical. Then, they slipped away, vanishing into the landscape. A brief time later, they reappeared elsewhere, blending back into the crowds.
Ten days passed since the meteor's fall.
The hooded figures appeared again. Their breath was shallow and heavy. They stumbled, struggling to stay upright, eventually leaning against a wall to gasp for air. Yet, the islanders showed no reaction to the crushing atmosphere. To them, it was as if nothing had changed. If anything, the children were running even faster than before.
One man said to his friend, "Did you hear about the size of that crater?" His friend scoffed, "That's just what the writer said. Who has the time to actually measure it?"
None of them were surprised. Other people called the islanders "The Perfect Humans."
For years, the inhabitants of this island had grappled with extreme, ever-shifting conditions—from desert heats to polar chills, from devastating droughts to the evolution of ferocious monsters. Over generations, their bodies had upgraded and evolved. It was an evolution that turned them into formidable beings, growing stronger with every passing second. Through this evolution, they possessed a unique trait: Adaptation. A capability that allowed them to adjust to almost any environment in record time.
Outsiders called them Perfect Humans because the word "Human" (Insan) is derived from "Uns"—meaning to bond, to adapt, and to become accustomed. This was why they bore that title.
As the hooded figures reflected on this, they searched for a way to understand exactly what had changed, even if the islanders themselves felt no difference. They were deep in thought when suddenly...