The grand halls of the Imperial Palace of Arcane, once filled with laughter and the hum of noble chatter, now stood in eerie silence. Servants scurried in hushed tones, their faces pale with fear. The night before had been a nightmare—one that still clung to the air like a thick fog.
"Find His Highness!" The head maid's voice cracked with desperation as she led a brigade of servants through the palace corridors. "Don't stop looking until the Crown Prince is found!"
Every hall, every chamber, every hidden passage had been searched. But the young prince—the future emperor of Terabytan—was gone.
Inside the grand throne room, the Emperor sat motionless, his knuckles white as he clenched the arms of his golden throne. The mighty ruler of Arcane, a man feared across the land, now looked small beneath the weight of the news.
"Your Majesty," a knight in silver armor knelt before him, his voice steady despite the chaos outside. "The First Order Knights are prepared to depart. We will not rest until we bring the Crown Prince home."
The Emperor's jaw tightened. His regal presence had always commanded the respect of the empire, but tonight, his voice was tinged with something foreign—fear. "Do anything to find my son," he ordered, his gaze burning into the knight's bowed head. "He is the heir of this empire. He must be found."
And so, the search began.
The elite knights rode into the night, their banners flying high, while bounty hunters and mercenaries scoured every village, mountain, and shadowed alley. The guilds sent spies across the empire, whispering questions into the ears of informants. The noble houses watched with bated breath, some praying for the prince's return, others wondering if this was an opportunity.
But days turned to weeks. Weeks into months. The seasons passed, and still, there was no trace of the Crown Prince.
Five Years Later
The once-mighty Emperor now sat hunched in his chambers, his skin pale, his once-sharp eyes dulled by illness. His once-proud voice had weakened, his words spoken in hushed tones only to those he trusted. Few knew the truth—he was being poisoned.
His enemies had planned everything well.
Inside the royal court, Duke Valcair—the late Empress's brother—stood before the throne, a smirk hidden behind a false expression of concern.
"Your Majesty," he said smoothly, "it pains me to see you like this. Your health is declining. The empire cannot be left without a strong leader." He took a step closer, his voice honeyed with false sympathy. "Why don't you appoint a new heir? Someone capable of leading in your place."
The Emperor's grip on his armrest tightened. He knew exactly what Valcair wanted.
He had taken the prince. He had poisoned the Emperor. And now, he wanted to steal the throne.
But the Emperor wasn't dead yet.
Not yet.
Meanwhile, the Lost Prince
Darkness. Endless and suffocating.
From the moment the Crown Prince was thrown into the abyss, his soul had been stolen. His body lay motionless, surrounded by creatures that lurked in the shadows, their glowing eyes watching. Time had no meaning here. No hunger, no fear, no pain—just emptiness.
It wasn't until a week later that salvation came.
"Captain, I found a boy here!"
A group of armored figures moved cautiously through the abyss. Their weapons hummed with energy, their armor marked with symbols foreign to this world. The leader, a tall man with a scarred face, stepped forward.
"What is a child doing here?" he muttered, scanning the lifeless boy before them.
As soon as one of the adventurers touched him, his eyes snapped open. But he didn't speak. He didn't understand their language. The Prince, once a noble heir of Arcane, had been rescued by a group of humans—from Earth.
---
Year 2057 – Seoul, South Korea
The world had changed.
Floating islands hovered over the cities, each one a gateway to another dimension. The Merge had turned Earth into a chaotic battleground, where beings from different worlds coexisted—some peacefully, others with bloodshed. Humans of Earth. Humans from other dimensions. Noble vampires. Creatures beyond comprehension.
Brought to the Adventurer's Guild HQ, the boy was an enigma. But not all who saw him wished for his survival.
Scientists, obsessed with the unknown, took a disturbing interest in the Prince. Labeled the First Hollow, a human without a soul, he became their greatest experiment. Elemental injections, forced mutations, relentless pain—his body was reshaped in the name of science.
For three years, he endured. No screams. No resistance. A puppet with no will.
But fate had other plans.
At the age of 10, instead of being rescued, he was sold. A mercenary group, ruthless and unyielding, took him in—not as a soldier, but as a hunting dog.
For two years, they broke him. Trained in hellish conditions, forced into battle against creatures far beyond human limits, he learned only one thing—survival.
At 12, he became a slave to war, a tool for an organization that used children as disposable weapons. Countless near-death experiences shaped him, yet his gaze remained hollow. A boy without a soul felt neither fear nor pain.
---
Age 17 – The Awakening
For the first time in years, his body burned.
[ Congratulations on Awakening. ]
A voice echoed in his mind. A system? No—something greater.
[ You are now Awakening as a "Dectator." ]
[ Your soul has been restored. ]
His mind exploded with memories. The palace. His father's voice. His mother's gentle smile. His younger self, laughing freely, without chains.
The void inside him cracked.
[ Dectator – A Unique, One-of-a-Kind Class. ]
Passive Ability: "Soul Rebirth" – The user, once soulless, has become an existence beyond mortality. Each death only strengthens them.
Skills:
1. Void Monarch's Authority – Can command and manipulate void energy, bending reality to his will.
2. Soul Devourer – Absorbs the essence of enemies, gaining their strength and memories.
3. Dimensional Rift – Can open pathways to other dimensions, breaking the laws of space.
4. Abyssal Regeneration – No injury is permanent. As long as he exists, he will return.
5. Final Dictum – A skill that forces absolute obedience from those weaker than him.
For the first time, his heartbeat returned.
He was no longer just a weapon.
He was a Dectator. And he was coming back.