The sky was painted in crimson flames. The world shook under the roar of collapsing cities, the cries of the dying echoing like a funeral dirge for humanity. Ash rained down from the heavens, mixing with the scent of blood, smoke, and despair.
Jin Suho staggered across the battlefield, every step heavier than the last. His body was torn, armor shattered, skin covered in gashes and burns. The once-bustling metropolis that had stood proud a decade ago was now nothing more than ruins, a graveyard of shattered towers and fallen dreams.
"Damn it…" His voice cracked as he coughed out blood, staining his lips crimson. His knees trembled, threatening to collapse with each movement.
Around him, the ground was littered with corpses—hunters, soldiers, ordinary civilians who had been too slow to escape. The earth itself was scarred, ripped apart by endless battles, as if the world was weeping.
Above the wreckage loomed a monstrous figure cloaked in shadow: the Abyss Monarch. Its grotesque wings stretched wide, blotting out what remained of the sky, its eyes burning like molten suns. Every breath it took reverberated across the land, pressing against Suho's chest like an invisible mountain.
The strongest hunters had already fallen. Guild masters, S-ranks, leaders who once carried the hopes of mankind—they all lay scattered and broken. The great resistance that had lasted a decade ended in the blink of an eye.
And Suho… Suho, who had started as the weakest of the weak, had fought, bled, and clawed his way to stand here. But even after climbing, after struggling against fate itself, this was all he amounted to—
A dying man at the feet of the end.
"…Was it all meaningless?" Suho whispered, collapsing onto one knee. His vision blurred, the world tilting sideways.
He remembered every moment that had brought him here—every dungeon raid where he was mocked as a burden, every tear he shed over fallen comrades, every night he wished he had been born stronger. He remembered his mother's smile… a smile that had long faded when she perished during one of the earliest gate disasters.
"I couldn't… save anyone…" His trembling hands clawed at the broken earth. "Mother… forgive me…"
Tears mingled with the dirt beneath him. The ache in his chest was not from the wounds but from the crushing weight of regret.
If only he had trained harder. If only he hadn't been cowardly. If only he had been stronger. If only… if only…
The Abyss Monarch stepped forward, its shadow engulfing him. With each heavy footfall, the ground quaked, threatening to swallow what little remained of Suho's resolve.
A laugh, deep and mocking, thundered across the ruins. "Pathetic little human… Did you truly believe you could change fate?"
The Monarch raised its massive claw, sharp enough to rend mountains apart. Death had come, merciless and absolute.
Suho clenched his teeth. His vision was fading, but deep inside, his heart screamed. If only… if only I had another chance…
"I don't… want it to end like this." His voice was nothing more than a whisper drowned in the chaos. "I want to… change it all… I swear… I'll become stronger… I'll never be powerless again!"
The claw descended.
And everything turned to black.
Silence.
No—the faint chirping of birds. The warmth of sunlight streaming through a curtain. The soft smell of miso soup drifting from a nearby kitchen.
Jin Suho's eyes snapped open.
He gasped, clutching his chest. His heart pounded wildly, sweat drenching his body. He sat up in a small, familiar room—a room he hadn't seen in ten long years. Posters of old bands hung crookedly on the wall, textbooks stacked on a cluttered desk, his cheap laptop blinking faintly in the corner.
His throat went dry. "…No way."
With shaking hands, he reached for the mirror on his bedside table. The reflection staring back wasn't the scarred, worn man who had seen the end of the world. It was a young face—smooth skin, bright eyes, hair still thick and black. A boy barely eighteen years old.
He stumbled back, nearly tripping over the edge of his bed. "This… This is impossible…"
His breaths came fast, his chest rising and falling as panic and disbelief warred inside him.
Ten years. He had lived through ten years of gates, monsters, blood, and despair. He had watched humanity crumble, watched his comrades die one by one, watched his mother's light fade.
But now… now he was back. Back in the very room where it all began.
"No…" Suho whispered, pressing trembling fingers against his face. "This can't be a dream… It feels too real…"
The sound of sizzling oil came from the kitchen. A voice—soft, warm, achingly familiar—called out.
"Suho! Wake up, you'll be late for class!"
His heart stopped.
That voice…
With trembling steps, he ran out of his room and into the small living room of their old apartment.
And there she was.
His mother.
Standing in front of the stove, apron tied neatly around her waist, hair tied back as she hummed softly while cooking breakfast. Her gentle profile was the very image Suho had burned into his soul for a decade, the memory that had haunted him through every battle.
Tears welled instantly in his eyes. His knees nearly buckled. "…Mother…"
The woman turned, smiling at him with the warmth of the sun. "You're finally awake. Honestly, Suho, you need to sleep earlier if you don't want to be late to university."
The world blurred. He couldn't hold it in anymore. With a strangled sob, Suho rushed forward and embraced her tightly.
"Suho?!" she gasped, startled by the sudden hug.
He buried his face in her shoulder, his tears soaking into her clothes. "You're alive… You're alive…" His voice cracked, trembling with a pain and relief too heavy to contain.
She froze, confusion flickering in her eyes. "What's gotten into you this morning? Did you have another nightmare?"
"I… I thought I'd lost you forever…" Suho whispered, gripping her tighter. "But you're here. You're still here…"
Her hands hesitated before gently patting his back. "Silly boy. Of course I'm here. Where else would I be?"
Suho's tears wouldn't stop. He didn't care how strange he looked. After ten years of darkness, after losing everything, this warmth was salvation itself.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he pulled back, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. His mother frowned slightly at his swollen eyes but smiled anyway.
"You've always been such a crybaby," she teased softly. "Now go wash up. You'll be late for your first day at university."
"University…" Suho muttered, his mind racing. That was right. At eighteen, he had just entered university. It was before the gates had spread uncontrollably, before the great guilds rose, before the betrayals, before… everything.
His hands clenched. This was his chance. A chance to rewrite everything.
He stared at his mother, memorizing every line of her face, engraving her presence deeper into his heart. Then, with a sharp breath, he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling but firm.
"I've come back… I really came back…"
He looked down at his fists. The trembling stopped, replaced by a fire he thought had long gone out.
"This time… I'll become stronger. Strong enough to protect you. Strong enough to protect everyone."
The morning sunlight spilled through the window, washing the room in golden light. For the first time in ten years, Jin Suho felt hope.
And with that hope came resolve.
The second life of Jin Suho—the weakest hunter who had seen the end—had just begun.
The morning sunlight continued to filter through the curtains, warm and gentle, yet Jin Suho's heart refused to calm.
His spoon clinked against the bowl of rice his mother had set before him, but he could hardly eat. Every time he looked up, her face filled his vision, alive, healthy, smiling as if nothing had happened.
Ten years of darkness… erased in an instant.
He clenched his fists under the table. This isn't a dream. This is real.
"Suho, you're spacing out again," his mother said gently, breaking his thoughts. "Eat before it gets cold."
"…Yes, Mom." His voice trembled, but he forced himself to smile.
As he ate, fragments of the past timeline surfaced—blood, fire, betrayal. His mind was heavy with them, yet alongside it bloomed an overwhelming sense of hope.
The calendar… today's date…
Suho quickly excused himself after breakfast and hurried to his room. He snatched up the old wall calendar that hung crookedly by his desk.
His eyes widened. April 17, 20XX…
His heart skipped a beat. This was the very month the First Catastrophic Gate would appear in the city's outskirts. The very gate that had consumed hundreds of lives—ordinary civilians, low-rank hunters, and…
Suho froze, his hand trembling. He remembered clearly: it was this gate that claimed his mother's life.
In his first life, he hadn't been strong enough. He had only awakened as a low-level E-rank Hunter days before, mocked and discarded as "dead weight." He couldn't protect her. He couldn't protect anyone.
But this time…
"No." Suho's blue eyes burned with resolve as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. His younger face stared back, but his gaze carried the weight of ten years of war. "I won't let history repeat itself. Not this time."
Later that morning, Suho walked toward the university campus.
The city felt so alive—vibrant, bustling, untouched by destruction. Students laughed in groups, street vendors shouted cheerfully, cars honked in traffic jams.
It felt surreal. Like a ghost walking through a world he had once buried with his own hands.
How long has it been since I've seen this? he thought. In his first life, much of this city had been reduced to rubble within two years.
Now, it looked untouched, fragile, beautiful.
He clenched his bag straps tighter. I will protect this world.
As he entered the campus, he caught sight of familiar faces. Friends. Classmates. People who, in his memories, had long since perished during dungeon outbreaks.
Their voices reached him—naïve, carefree, untainted by despair.
"Yo, Suho!" one of them waved. "First day nerves, huh?"
Suho forced a smile and waved back, though his chest tightened. They don't know. None of them know what's coming.
Everywhere he looked, he saw ghosts of the future. That boy would die in a dungeon stampede. That girl would be crushed by falling debris. That professor would awaken as a hunter but fall during the second wave of raids.
Suho exhaled slowly. No… not if I can change it.
During the lecture, his mind wandered. His professor's words became background noise as Suho scribbled something else entirely into his notebook:
Plan.
Awaken as soon as possible.
Prepare equipment early.
Warn civilians discreetly about upcoming Gate.
Save Mother first, no matter the cost.
Identify future allies. Avoid future traitors.
His pen pressed hard into the paper, nearly tearing the page.
In his past life, awakening as a hunter had been random, something he never understood. But now, with knowledge of the future, he remembered the rumors, the research, the "triggers" that some guilds secretly exploited.
He tapped the pen against his desk. If I push myself into danger before the First Gate opens, my chances of awakening will increase. This time, I'll gamble everything on it.
A sharp whisper tugged at his ears. "Hey, Suho. You're scribbling like a madman. You okay?"
He blinked. Sitting beside him was a girl with long black hair and kind eyes—Han Yura.
His chest tightened. He remembered her. She had once been his closest friend, always encouraging him despite his weakness. In the first timeline, she had awakened as a B-rank healer… and died in his arms during the Fifth Gate disaster.
For a moment, he could barely breathe.
"I'm fine," Suho said softly. He forced a smile, but inside, his heart twisted. Not this time, Yura. I'll save you, too.
The lecture ended. Students gathered in groups, talking about trivial matters—assignments, clubs, weekend plans.
But Suho's world was no longer theirs. His eyes were already fixed on the path ahead, a path no one else could see.
He stepped outside, sunlight striking his black hair, his blue eyes gleaming like burning ice.
The second chance had begun. And Jin Suho would not waste it.