Eleven years ago, Earth changed forever.
A rift tore open in the sky, splitting reality itself. From that gaping wound, monsters and demons poured out in endless waves, turning cities into ruins and rivers into crimson seas. Governments collapsed overnight, and humanity's hope burned out like a candle in a storm.
On that same day, Jake Yoon lost his parents.
He was only seventeen then, standing in the rubble of his home, clutching his sister's cold hand. The world was cruel. And Jake learned that lesson far too early.
In the years that followed, humans discovered new power. Some awakened abilities, their bodies mutating, evolving to fight the horrors beyond the rift. These individuals became known as the Chosen Ones. Humanity hailed them as heroes, saviors who could turn the tide of despair.
But Jake was not chosen.
No power surged through his veins. No mysterious energy answered his call. Yet he refused to accept weakness. While others awakened with ease, Jake trained until his bones ached and his muscles screamed. His fists bled from striking wood, his body hardened under relentless discipline. He became strong—not because he was gifted, but because he had no other choice.
Years later, he finally became a dungeon raider, risking his life in deadly expeditions. And yet, even this path was paved with betrayal.
On what was supposed to be a routine dungeon raid, Jake's trusted teammates turned on him. For treasure. For power. For greed.
"Is this how it ends?" Jake thought bitterly as a blade pierced his chest. His vision blurred, his heartbeat slowed, and the stench of blood and damp dungeon air filled his lungs.
As his consciousness faded, despair washed over him one final time.
Then, a soft, innocent voice shattered the darkness.
"Big brother, wake up!"
Jake's eyes snapped open.
The air was fresh. There was no pain, no dungeon walls, no scent of death. He sat up abruptly, his breath ragged. "Where… am I?"
He glanced around. The room was unfamiliar, simple yet elegant, with neatly folded bedding and a polished wooden floor. Sunlight filtered through a window, painting warm patterns across the walls. This wasn't a dungeon. This wasn't even the world he knew.
Panic surged. He touched his chest—no wound. No scar. No blood.
"What is this…?" Jake muttered, his voice trembling.
The body felt strange—lighter, more agile, flexible in a way his old, battle-hardened frame had never been. Stumbling to a mirror, he froze.
Staring back at him was a seventeen-year-old boy.
His own face.
The same sharp eyes, the same determined jawline, the same youthful appearance he once had before the rift changed everything.
"This… is me," Jake whispered, heart pounding.
Suddenly, a torrent of foreign memories flooded his mind, nearly knocking him off his feet. Images, emotions, and voices that weren't his own carved themselves into his soul. This body belonged to Samuel Maxwell, a young heir from a noble family. Samuel had been assassinated just last night.
And the boy who had called him "big brother" was Samuel's younger sibling.
Jake—now Samuel—stumbled backward, clutching his head as the memories settled.
"Mother is waiting for you," his little brother said from the doorway, eyes filled with innocence. "Father is out of town for official work."
Samuel clenched his fists, trembling with fury and resolve. I will protect this family… and I will avenge Samuel's death.
He looked at his reflection again. The boy's appearance was familiar, as if fate had molded Samuel's face to mirror Jake's own at seventeen. It felt like destiny itself had chosen him for this second chance.
Resolve ignited within him like a roaring flame. He would not waste this life. He would become stronger than ever before.
What Samuel didn't know yet was that power—pure, boundless power—was already coursing through his veins. Qi, refined and limitless, flowed within him, waiting to awaken.
This was not the end.
This was the beginning.