The world didn't end with an explosion.
Nor with some great prophecy carved in ancient stone.
The world ended… with a fracture.
At first, it was just a faint scar across the sky—like a streak of frozen lightning. Scientists called it a "dimensional anomaly." The media named it the "Sky Fracture." Some thought it was a miracle.
But what came through… was horror.
The crack widened, and from it emerged things that should never have existed.
Creatures that defied logic—beings born from nightmares beyond imagination.
Ereborn.
They weren't monsters. They were distortions.
Living wounds tearing through reality. Their very presence warped the air, space, and time.
And when they stepped onto the Earth, everything collapsed.
Cities fell. Civilization burned. The world crumbled in just three months.
The remaining nations united into one last hope—The Federation.
They built walls, armies, and most of all… the Awakening System.
For reasons no one could fully explain, some humans began to change.
Touched by otherworldly energy, they Awakened—gaining powers, skills, and strength beyond reason.
A new order was born.
Ranks were set: F to SSS.
Systems appeared—bound to the souls of the Awakened.
But only one in a hundred could Awaken.
The rest remained weak.
And the weak… were nothing but prey.
---
Not every child was born to be saved.
Zane Arclight proved that.
Born in Sector 9—the poorest, most forgotten slum of the Federation—Zane was raised among ruins, surrounded by broken concrete and unburied corpses.
His mother was killed by an Ereborn when he was still a toddler.
His father died a day later—not to monsters, but to a starving man who wanted his shoes.
From then on, Zane was alone.
Not lonely.
Alone—as in no one cared whether he lived or died.
He slept under rusted bridges.
Stole from faster hands.
Endured hunger so deep his fingers trembled and his mind blurred.
But Zane… was no ordinary child.
Behind dirt-stained skin and hollow eyes hid the mind of a genius.
He could understand machine blueprints in seconds.
Mapped patrol routes just from scattered footprints.
Even identified Ereborn classes by their breathing and movement patterns—something most trained soldiers failed to do.
But the world didn't care about genius born in trash.
Zane took the Awakening Test every year.
And every year, the result was the same:
[Candidate Not Eligible]
No system.
No talent.
No future.
All he had was a frail body, calloused hands, and a mind that never stopped working—no matter how hungry he was.
He knew exactly how the world worked.
He understood the cruelty of those in power.
And most of all, he knew:
In this world, intelligence without strength… was a curse.
---
That day was supposed to be just like any other.
Gray skies. Dust in the air. Broken machines humming in the distance.
Zane was scavenging scrap metal from an old collapsed factory, hoping to trade it for a piece of stale bread.
That's how he survived—not with strength, but with intellect… and the guts to go where others wouldn't.
But something felt off.
The sky was changing.
Not red. Not purple. But pitch-black—as if ink had bled into the clouds.
Then came the sound.
A metallic scream that shook the ground and pierced the soul.
It wasn't thunder.
It was the sound everyone feared.
The Abyss Gate had opened.
From the widening crack in the sky, they descended again.
The Ereborn.
Dozens. Maybe hundreds.
Pouring straight into Sector 9 without warning, without mercy.
Sirens wailed—but they were too late. Too quiet.
And everyone knew—
The Federation wouldn't come.
They never came for places like this.
---
Zane knew he should run.
No one would blame him if he did.
But then he heard it.
A child's cry.
Small, fragile—drowning in rubble and fire.
A young boy was trapped beneath a fallen beam, calling out for someone who'd never come.
Zane clenched his teeth.
He hated this.
Hated how he couldn't walk away.
With a grunt, he pulled the beam aside, lifted the boy, and cradled him tightly.
"Hold on to me," he whispered.
The ground trembled. The air reeked of smoke and death.
Ereborn were everywhere.
Zane ran, feet pounding through narrow alleyways, guided by instinct and memory.
Until he turned the last corner—
And froze.
A Fanghound stood at the end of the alley.
Two meters tall. Double-jawed. Black, oozing skin like molten steel.
Its eyes glowed red, and acid dripped from its fangs.
Zane took a step back.
No weapon. No exit.
No hope.
He could drop the boy. Run.
But he couldn't.
Not out of bravery—
But because he was done watching everything fall apart.
If he had to die, then it would be his choice.
The monster roared—then leaped.
WHOOOM!
A flash of silver sliced through the air.
A sword cut the beast down in one clean arc.
Zane blinked.
A figure in Federation armor stood before him.
Reks Calder.
Rank-A. Fast. Ruthless.
Known for one skill: Bladestorm.
"Get out of here!" he barked, then vanished toward another group of Ereborn.
Zane didn't move.
Reks moved like lightning—every strike precise, every step efficient. But from above, another shadow dropped.
A High-Class Ereborn ambushed him, slamming into his back and hurling him into a wall.
CRACK!
Armor shattered. Blood spilled.
Reks collapsed—unmoving.
"REKS!!" Zane shouted.
And then—
A voice echoed in his mind.
---
> [System "Talent Eclipse" Activated]
Initial Synchronization: Successful.
High-Value Target Detected: [Reks Calder – Bladestorm (Rank A)]
🔸 Copy Quest Available 🔸
➤ Objective: Assist Reks in defeating 2 Class-C Ereborn
➤ Time Limit: 5 Minutes
➤ Reward: Copy Talent [Bladestorm]
⚠️ Failure: No reward granted.
---
Zane stood still. "A system…? I… have a system?!"
His hands shook.
It was real.
The screen. The quest.
And Reks… would die without help.
Zane lowered the boy behind a dumpster and grabbed the nearest blade—a broken, chipped weapon lying beside Reks.
It was heavy. Cracked. Worthless.
But it was all he had.
Two Ereborn charged.
Zane ran forward—not with strength or skill—
But with rage, instinct, and desperation.
The first he slashed across the chest and stabbed in the neck.
The second lunged. Zane ducked, swept its legs, and rammed the blade through its gut.
Black blood splattered.
He staggered. Panting.
But the enemies were down.
He turned—Reks still breathed.
And then—
> ✅ Quest Complete
[Talent Copied: Bladestorm]
Congratulations. You have acquired:
➤ [Bladestorm – Rank A]
Zane's body burned.
Power surged through his limbs, unfamiliar yet natural—like it had always been there, waiting.
"It's real…" he whispered. "Finally…"
A third monster appeared.
Zane turned.
His eyes were sharp.
His grip steady.
He spun the blade—
And when the beast lunged—
Zane met it with a whirlwind slash.
Bladestorm.
A Rank-A skill.
Now his.
The creature dropped—silent, split in half.
Zane stood in the dust and blood.
His chest heaving. His eyes lit with fire.
This world threw me away.
But I will survive—with whatever I have.
If they have power, I'll copy it.
If they have talent, I'll take it.
I no longer care whose rules I'm breaking.
From now on… the world will play by mine.
---