January 1st, 2030.
The day the world ended.
The first invasion came like a storm, creatures torn from the depths of another reality, descending with a force that no arsenal, no battalion, no nuclear deterrent could repel.
They wielded powers humans once thought confined to myth and fantasy. Beasts with hide stronger than steel, fiends with sorcery that devoured entire cities in fire and ash, and titans whose footsteps reshaped the land.
One nation fell, then another, until the world map became nothing more than a graveyard of fallen borders. The great powers, the three strongest nations who refused to surrender, fought with everything humanity could muster.
Yet even their might collapsed, and the earth that had once belonged to mankind was soon drowned in the shadows of monsters.
Humanity, once the apex predator, was reduced to prey. Men and women scattered like vermin, hiding in caverns, ruins, and the cracks of a dying civilization. Hope, once a light burning stubbornly in every heart, guttered and threatened to vanish. The records of our existence were already being erased, the future of our race reduced to ash.
It should have been the end. It was the end.
But fate had other plans.
Fifty years after the Fall, new humans appeared, different from the broken remnants of the old world, and they carried within them strange, miraculous powers.
A screen of light appeared before their eyes, presenting names, levels, attributes, skills, a system uncannily similar to the mechanics of games that once entertained children. The world called them Players.
The title was trivial compared to what they achieved. With their powers, they struck back against the darkness. They became the sword and shield of mankind, pushing into the frontlines, carving a space where humans could breathe again. Walls rose. Settlements grew into fortresses. From there, the war continued.
And in one of those bastions of survival, amidst crumbling walls and ceaseless monster tides, I was born.
I, Kane Brawn.
I came into this world as nothing, born to a father crushed beneath the claws of an outbreaking beast and a mother whose final screams still haunt me, devoured before my eyes. With no family, no protection, I grew up in the underbelly of survival. The streets raised me. I scavenged with cutthroats and thieves, fought among the filth, and clawed for scraps just to see another day.
That would have been my life until the grave.
But then, I heard it, the Calling. The whisper that echoed in the soul of every chosen one. The day my fate twisted.
A light surged before me, and with it came my status:
Name: Kane Brawn | Race: Human | Age: 10
Class: Swordsman | Level: 1 | EXP: 0/1000
HP: 100/100 | MP: 100/100 | Stamina: 50/50
Strength: 3 | Agility: 3 | Dexterity: 4 | Endurance: 6 | Intelligence: 2
Unique Ability:
- Sword of Scripture
That day, I swore myself to one path alone: to become a Player and stand on the frontlines. Not for vengeance, though vengeance burned deep within me. Not for glory, there was none left in a dying world. I chose the sword because I had nothing else. No home. No family. No tether to hold me back. I would fight for humanity, even if it meant bleeding until the very end.
My ability, Sword of Scripture, was unlike anything I'd heard of. Ten sword scriptures, ten paths of mastery, each requiring absolute understanding of the last before unlocking the next.
My destiny was carved in steel. Yet I only reached the third scripture, never beyond. Perhaps that was why everything unraveled. Perhaps that was why, out of the two billion who survived, I now stand alone.
The last human alive.
Still, even at the edge of extinction, I refuse to bow.
Before me towered my final opponent, a monstrous figure with three heads, four arms, and skin as red as molten earth. Horns jutted from each skull like spears, and its body radiated killing intent.
An SSS-ranked creature. The kind reserved for nightmares.
I gripped my sword, Kaiden. A blade of legendary quality, my one companion through years of slaughter.
Countless weapons had shattered under the weight of my second scripture, but Kaiden endured even the third. Its edge had grown dull, its strength waned, yet it remained steadfast, as if it shared my stubborn will.
Exhaling a heavy breath, I steadied my stance. Exhaustion gnawed at me, not of the body but of the soul. Years of war had stripped everything away, my comrades, my purpose, my hope. The loneliness was suffocating.
It hurt. God, it hurt more than the countless wounds I carried. To live without kin, without friends, to walk a path of blood with no one waiting at the end, it hollowed me out.
The victories, the scars, the sacrifices, all meaningless when there was no one left to witness them.
But if rage was all I had, then I would give it freely.
With a roar, I struck. My blade carved through the monster's forehead, piercing one skull clean through and bursting out the other side. The abomination collapsed with a tremor that shook the battlefield, dead before it could raise a hand.
I dropped to the ground beside its corpse, eyes cast toward the sky. My body was uninjured, my stamina intact. It wasn't fatigue that pinned me down. It was the emptiness.
I was ready to stop. Ready to let go. The last man standing, yet already buried by despair.
"At the end of it all…" My voice cracked. "I failed."
"Far from it."
The words did not belong to me.
I sat up, hand tightening around my sword. From nothing, literally nothing, a figure emerged, stepping into existence as if the void itself had birthed him.
He looked human, yet everything about him screamed otherwise. His form radiated perfection, a physique too flawless for mortal blood. His presence was suffocating and yet disturbingly casual, as though death and ruin meant nothing to him.
"Kane Brawn," he said, his smile maddeningly amused, "you are by far the greatest source of entertainment I've had in ages."
Battle-honed instinct flared. Stranger meant danger. My blade rose instantly.
"Now, now," he chuckled, hands raised as though to placate me. "No need for fear. Do you truly think I'd kill my favorite spectacle? Where would I find another?"
His tone was light, almost playful, but the wrongness in his aura clawed at me. My gut screamed enemy.
"Who are you?" My voice was ice, my grip unyielding.
"Who am I…" He tapped his chin in mock thought, lips curling with mischief. "I am Kaiden. To your understanding, I suppose you'd call me a god. Technically, I'm far above that, but mortals adore simple titles, don't they? A god smites you with a flick of the wrist, while I—well, I could erase the gods themselves with little more than whim. But no one sings songs of Concepts, so let's keep it simple. Kaiden, the god. Your god, if you like."
He spoke with a maddening ease, rambling on as if we were sharing drinks in a tavern rather than standing atop a field of corpses.
"Oh, and your sword—" his grin widened,"brilliant choice of name. For a while, you almost convinced me you'd named it after me. I was flattered, truly! Imagine my surprise when I realized it was mere coincidence."
I stared, cold silence stretching as his words washed over me. His presence was wrong. Too wrong.
At last, unable to endure his babble, I raised Kaiden and leveled it at his chest. "Enough games. Who are you, really?"
His smile only grew.
"Weren't you listening?" he said, eyes gleaming with unnatural light. "I am Kaiden. A god, and your greatest admirer."