"Why was this world created?"
That's a question I've always asked myself.
I've always been intrigued by the fact that every single event in history all traces back to one word—creation. Was it for fun? To test humans? To separate good from evil? These questions flood my mind often, and I don't blame myself for thinking this way. Even the current state of the world is still a mystery.
I was born in the year 2045, part of the first generation born after the event everyone now calls the World Shatterment.
It is remembered as the greatest and darkest turning point in human history. In the year 2030, all the world's leaders were mysteriously assassinated. Chaos spread instantly. Why? you ask? Because after the great assassinations, the world fractured. Continents splintered into countries, countries into states, states into cities, cities into districts, and districts into factions—until the world shattered, literally.
The divisions ignited endless wars. Each faction fought under its own banner, each leader driven by their own beliefs.
And yet… even though normal life was destroyed forever, the Shatterment came with a strange advantage.
During the Great War, something was discovered—something buried inside the human body. A hidden gene. Rare. Ancient. Encrypted into us since the beginning of our species. A gene that allowed humans to adapt in ways beyond comprehension.
It had always been there, lying dormant, like a virus that never activated. Why? Because humanity had never faced a threat great enough to awaken it. For centuries, we lived in comfort—our greatest struggles reduced to scrolling endlessly on our phones, drowning in shallow distractions, never realizing what we truly carried inside.
"Mr. Ryou?"
The voice pulled me back to reality. I looked up from my sketchbook to see my calculus teacher staring down at me with that same tired expression.
"Yep," I muttered with a smirk. "I know. For some reason… school still exists.