An eclipse covered the evening sky, turning the world dim and reddish like dried blood.
Rudra stood in front of a mirror, running his fingers through his messy black hair.
"…This looks terrible."
For once, there were no missions. No calls from headquarters. No gunshots ringing in his ears.
Just silence.
He sighed and grabbed his jacket.
"Guess I'll fix it."
Minutes later, he rode his bike through the quiet streets and stopped in front of a small beauty salon. It felt strange doing something so ordinary. After years of battlefield life, something as simple as a haircut almost felt foreign.
The bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside.
Then—
Glass shattered.
Gunshots exploded.
Masked men stormed the salon with rifles raised.
Screams filled the air.
Rudra's eyes went cold instantly.
So much for a peaceful day.
He drew his handgun without hesitation.
Bang.
One down.
Bang.
Two.
Bang.
Three.
The remaining assassins rushed him, but their movements were slow — predictable. He ducked under a bullet, rolled across the floor, and fired with mechanical precision.
Within seconds, the salon fell silent.
Bodies dropped.
Blood spread across the tiles.
The civilians trembled behind overturned chairs.
"You're safe now," Rudra said calmly, holstering his gun.
The door opened again.
Footsteps echoed.
He turned.
"…Peter?"
Relief flashed across his face.
Peter — his partner from the Wolf Warriors unit. The only person he trusted.
"You're alive," Rudra said, walking toward him. "Good timing. These guys attacked out of nowhere. I was about to report—"
Bang.
The gunshot was deafening.
Pain tore through his chest.
Rudra looked down slowly.
Blood.
His blood.
He staggered backward and collapsed to his knees.
"…Why…?"
Peter's face showed no emotion.
"General orders," he said quietly.
Then he turned away.
"Goodbye, Rudra."
Darkness swallowed everything.
Rudra lay on the cold floor, staring up at the eclipse.
His body felt numb. Heavy.
"So this is it…"
A weak laugh escaped him.
After everything he had done… every mission… every life he took… after throwing away his emotions just to become the perfect weapon…
This was his reward?
Betrayal.
"…Fine."
His vision blurred.
"In my next life… I'll become strong… so strong that no one will ever use me again…"
"…No one will ever defeat me…"
His heart stopped.
Silence.
Then—
Light.
When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't on the ground anymore.
Stars surrounded him.
Countless constellations floated in an endless void.
"…Where am I?"
"You are not dead, Rudra."
A soft voice echoed through the space.
A beautiful woman appeared before him, radiating divine light.
"I am **Militia," she said gently. "The goddess of this world."
He stared at her in shock.
"A… goddess?"
"Your soul cried out to me. So I decided to grant you another chance at life."
"…Reincarnation?"
She nodded and waved her hand. A glowing board appeared, filled with countless skills ranked from D to S.
"Choose your abilities. The stronger the rank, the rarer the skill."
Rudra scanned the list.
"…I want S-rank skills."
She laughed softly. "Then defeat me. Land a single hit, and I will grant your request."
He smirked.
"One hit is enough? Then I want five."
"…Greedy, aren't you?"
"I'm desperate."
After a moment, she nodded.
The battle began.
He created a sword and rushed her at full speed.
She blocked effortlessly.
Kicked him away like he was nothing.
No matter how he attacked, she dodged.
She could read his movements.
Predict him.
So he changed tactics.
He froze time.
Even then, she moved.
But that wasn't his real plan.
Invisible magic masked his body.
He vanished from her senses—
—and appeared behind her.
Slash.
A clean strike landed.
Time resumed.
She looked at the small cut on her shoulder and smiled.
"…Impressive. You win."
Warm light surrounded him.
"Your S-rank skills are yours. Creation. Healing. Appraisal. Immunity. Magic Mastery. And my protection."
His vision faded again.
Then—
A baby's cry.
Warm arms.
A man's voice trembling with joy.
"Rudra… I'm your father, Mark."
A gentle woman smiled down at him.
"I'm your mother, Regina."
Rudra stared at them with newborn eyes.
A family…
For the first time, his heart felt warm.
Thank you… Militia.
This time… I'll live for myself.
And I'll become the strongest.
No matter what.