It was an indescribable feeling watching your world die. Yet here I was, floating in the vacuum of space between Earth and the scarred, broken moon. I watched as the blue screen that heralded humanity's doom flashed before my eyes:
"You have failed the tutorial. Minimum required life not found. Unable to integrate further into the greater Systemverse."
It was all for nothing — all the pain, all the suffering — just to fail in the end. I would have laughed, had I any strength left in my body. My mana was nothing but wisps in my system, barely enough to keep the harsh environment of space from further ravaging my already shattered body.
I could only watch as angry red fissures spread across the planet's surface. With nothing left to give, I closed my eyes and waited for the end. I had already cried enough today, when I was forced to drive my own father's sword — the one he had left me so long ago — straight through his chest. I was tired. So, so tired.
With a thought, I dismissed the system's screaming prompts and allowed myself to relax for what I thought would be the last time. My body was paralyzed from the massive overtaxation of my skills and mana system.
"All that, and the old man still let me land the final hit…" I thought bitterly. The final boss of Earth's so-called tutorial phase turned out to be the Archangel Michael — my father. Though even now, I struggled to reconcile the man who raised me and my sister with the mythological being he truly was.
I choked back another sob as I recalled the gentle, smiling face of the man who gave me my name. A name I had been teased for my entire school life. The man who taught me to ride a bike, to fish, to appreciate life in all its forms — big or small. The man who taught me to love others, and to always look evil in the eye and make it blink.
The same man who abandoned me and my sister the week before the apocalypse, leaving only a rusted longsword and a note that read: "Grow strong, and protect Mavis. — Love, Dad."
And with that, he was gone.
Only to return a century later as the single most powerful being I had ever seen — let alone fought.
When I finally saw him again, he came as our world's doom. And the only thought in my head wasn't fear or confusion — it was the desperate urge to scream that I was sorry. Sorry that I couldn't do what he had asked of me. At least not fully.
I had grown strong. Stronger than anyone. Through countless lucky encounters, by gaining a bloodline and a growth-type class that seemed almost too well-suited to me. By collecting weapons and artifacts that revealed unsettling truths about my heritage.
I discovered who my father was early on. But my mother? My memory of her was all but erased. All that remained was a gentle smile and her voice saying, "Grow up big and strong, my little bird. I will see you again one day."
But I digress. That's how the mind wanders in its final moments, I suppose.
My father's blood had brought me nothing but hardship and strife. It marked me for death by both Heaven and Hell, forcing me to become a monster in my own right. And yet, when I finally stood before him, the only thing I could do was beg forgiveness for failing him.
For failing to protect Mavis.
After a particularly brutal battle, I had been bedridden for weeks. Monsters poured into our world after the veil lifted — beasts from books, games, and mythology alike.
I remember one fight in particular. A False Hydra. Terrifying. My eyes, ears, even my sense of touch betrayed me. I fought it blind, relying only on instinct and raw will. Three days of hell.
I killed it only because my skill "Combat Flow" evolved from legendary rank into mythic: Ceaseless Combat. With it, I finally overpowered the monster's regeneration. But the toll left me crippled.
Mavis, ever stubborn, went searching for the ingredients for an elixir that might help me recover faster. I told her not to. I wasn't even at my second breakthrough back then. My regeneration hadn't evolved. But she didn't listen. She went anyway.
And I wasn't fine for a very, very long time after that day.
So when I finally saw my father, a century of anger and resentment boiled out of me.
The loss of Mavis was the first thing that tore its way from my throat.
He stood in the sky, six wings blazing in radiant light that nearly blinded me. His wavy brown hair framed his face, and his gentle smile — that same damned smile I remembered from my childhood — burned into me.
He looked at me with such pity.
That pity filled me with a rage greater than anything I had ever felt. Greater than losing my comrades. Greater than when Sammy pushed me into Hell and sealed the gates behind me. Greater even than losing Mavis.
I screamed with all my fury as the ground erupted beneath my feet and I hurled myself at him.
I don't know how long we fought. How long I cried as I screamed. But I swore I would kill him for everything — everything he had done, and everything he hadn't.
The rusted longsword he had left me so long ago revealed its true form after an impossible quest: First Light, the Sword of Saint Michael. I would drive this blade into him, no matter the cost.
And I did.
That gentle smile never left his face.
And so here I was. Drifting at death's door, watching my planet crack apart, the shattered moon hanging above me.
Then my body spasmed in a familiar agony.
"A forced summoning?! What the fuck? How?!"
I had no strength left to resist. Darkness claimed me once again.
Break
"ERROR! ERROR!" A system prompt flashed in the void.
"SEVERE TAMPERING FOUND IN TUTORIAL STAGE FROM MULTIPLE OUTSIDE SOURCES. DIFFICULTY FAR EXCEEDS KNOWN PARAMETERS. ABSENCE OF [FATHER] AND [ADVERSARY] DETECTED. TUTORIAL VOIDED. BEGINNING RESTORATION."
The Earth began to mend. Seas of blood turned blue again. Forests regrew. Cities rose from rubble. Billions of once-dead humans drew breath once more.
Cries of joy and celebration erupted across the planet as a single prompt appeared before every face:
"Congratulations! Welcome to the Systemverse."
But one man was missing. The Aegis of Humanity. The Angel Born in Hell.
I was gone.
Elsewhere
Michael fell to the ground with a thud. His ruined white and gold armor barely clung to his frame as he gripped the sword lodged in his chest. His sword. The one his father had given him to protect all life in the garden. The one he had left to his own son.
He smiled bitterly at the irony. Maybe, had he not forced Crow to endure so much to restore First Light's strength, things would have ended differently.
"No," he thought. "It was necessary. He had to endure it."
But it still hurt. More than the wound. More than any blow his son had struck.
The rage and sorrow he had seen in Crow's eyes cut deeper than the sword itself.
He chuckled weakly as he finally pulled First Light free. "Damn, kid. You hit hard."
"I'm glad to see you enjoying yourself so much," came the biting sarcasm of his younger sister.
Michael sighed and lifted his gaze to meet her.
"Gabriel, you know this had to be done. Father's and Uncle's absence left everything compromised."
He was exhausted. He didn't want to deal with her perpetual scowl now. But there she stood, radiating judgment.
Her metallic silver hair flowed to her waist, gleaming with the same otherworldly light as her piercing silver eyes. An unearthly beautiful face was marred only by a single scar running horizontally across her nose — a mark she refused to heal. Her lips were full, her features sharp yet unmistakably feminine, radiating both beauty and authority. She wore elegant silver armor laced with glowing emerald veins of energy, the polished plates accentuating her powerful form. Her ten immaculate white wings folded forward over her shoulders like a Templar's cloak, making her seem less like an angel and more like Heaven's executioner.
"It seems your scheme paid off, brother. Your… son defied all expectations." Her voice dripped with disdain, her crimson-tinted words an indictment of Crow, the abomination in her eyes.
"Gabriel." Michael's tone hardened as he rose to his full height. "My son is the only reason Father's garden still exists. He has never wronged you, despite your obsession with sending Heaven's legions after him at every opportunity. Be thankful — it only made him stronger."
"I don't care what good your spawn has done," Gabriel spat. "The child of an Archangel and… her will bring doom to us all."
Before Michael could respond, another angel landed before them, panic etched across his face.
"He's gone!"