The world had always seemed peaceful, or at least it had for as long as anyone could remember.
That peace, however, was fragile, and it shattered the moment the first gates appeared. Enormous, dark portals tore through the sky and earth alike, releasing monsters of unimaginable power. Alongside them, dungeons manifested—mysterious zones with shifting environments and unknown rules.
Some dungeons demanded nothing more than the elimination of the creatures within. Others required subtle tasks, objectives that only the awakeners themselves could discern. Few outsiders ever understood what truly awaited inside, and even the most skilled warriors had to approach cautiously.
Most dungeons had strict conditions for entry. After the first waves of monsters emerged, ordinary weapons ceased to function, leaving humanity unprepared and vulnerable.
It was then that the first awakeners appeared. Ordinary youths were marked by mysterious panels that displayed their stats and abilities.
These panels were unique—only the owner could see their contents, a personal reflection of their potential. Outsiders could only measure their stars through awakening devices, a crude but effective gauge of strength.
At first, the skills of awakeners were raw and untrained, chaotic and unpredictable. But necessity breeds adaptation, and soon they learned to harness their potential.
Battles erupted across towns and dungeons alike, each encounter testing ingenuity, courage, and resolve. Every victory, no matter how small, sparked hope.
Some dungeons merged with the planet Elyndra, introducing new races into the world. Elves, graceful and long-lived, possessed an innate affinity for magic, their abilities flowing naturally and often amplifying what their panels could measure.
Dwarves, short but sturdy, excelled in physical power and resilience, able to endure situations that would break most humans. Though all awakeners relied on their panels, these racial advantages gave Elves and Dwarves subtle edges in combat and survival, though they were far from invincible.
Initially, each race retreated to its own territory. Elves withdrew to forests alive with subtle magical energy, while Dwarves dug into mountains rich with minerals and hidden caverns.
Contact between humans and these newcomers was minimal. Hunting remained dangerous, and monsters continued to spill from the gates.
Over time, alliances began to form. Elves, whose magic could shape environments and unleash effects beyond ordinary perception, paired with Dwarves, whose skill with weapons and physical endurance complemented their allies perfectly.
Together, they created a balance strong enough to resist the monsters. Settlements grew near one another, knowledge was exchanged, and training methods were developed. These early collaborations laid the foundation for order in a world reshaped by chaos.
From these beginnings, the Eclipse Academy was established. Its purpose was to train awakeners from all races, teaching them to control their abilities and prepare for the ever-present threat of the gates.
The Awakener Association oversaw the Academy, ensuring that training was standardized and that every awakened individual was properly registered.
Panels remained the personal measure of one's potential, visible only to their owner, while awakening devices allowed others to gauge relative strength. Racial traits offered minor advantages, but every awakener, regardless of lineage, relied primarily on the panel to grow stronger.
Specialized programs were created to accommodate different strengths, from advanced magical instruction to rigorous combat training.
Dungeons became central to an awakener's growth. Each had three levels of difficulty, with some requiring teamwork while others allowed solo exploration.
Strategies existed for many dungeons, but most were closely guarded by top guilds. For beginners, a mandatory newbie dungeon existed, designed to teach the basics and ensure survival during an awakener's first encounter with real danger.
Though the rules and objectives within each dungeon varied, one constant remained: unpredictability. Monsters, traps, and hidden tasks could appear at any moment, forcing students to adapt quickly. Some quests required only combat, while others demanded observation, cunning, or cooperation. Nothing could be taken for granted.
Even the use of magic was subtle and varied. Elves could bend natural elements, drawing energy from their surroundings to enhance their abilities.
Dwarves, though less magical, could manipulate certain materials or channel energy through craftsmanship, creating advantages in endurance and defense. Humans possessed no inherent racial magic, but their panels could develop nearly any skill through rigorous training, making them unpredictable opponents.
Centuries passed, and the gates continued to exist, though the world had learned to manage them. Monsters still emerged, but humans, Elves, and Dwarves had grown strong enough to coexist, to fight, and to survive.
Eclipse Academy stood at the center of this fragile peace, a hub of knowledge, power, and preparation.
Within its walls, generations of awakeners were trained, shaping the balance of the world and preparing for challenges yet to come. Panels glimmered quietly in the dim light of training halls, displaying potential and power for each student alone, while the dungeons outside promised both lessons and dangers that no text or instructor could fully convey.
The era of awakeners had begun, and while much had changed, the spark of unpredictability remained. Every dungeon, every gate, every battle contained the potential to alter the world.
Eclipse Academy, in all its structure and discipline, stood ready to face it, and the awakeners who would one day step inside were about to discover the true scope of what awaited them.
...
In a quiet orphanage, tucked away from the bustling streets, a young girl lay curled beneath thin blankets. Her dark hair clung to her forehead, damp with sweat, her small frame, tense as if trapped in a nightmare.
Her lips parted, breaths uneven. For a moment, she looked like any other fragile child, but then—her eyes snapped open. Cold. Sharp. Murderous intent flickered within them, an expression no one would ever expect to see on the face of a thirteen-year-old girl.
Confusion slowly replaced that dangerous glint in her eyes.
"Didn't I… die with the Zombie King at the end?" she whispered.
Faint, fragmented memories surfaced. The chaos of the final battle. The moment her so-called allies turned their blades against her. Their betrayal had been swift and merciless. Backed into a corner, she had forced the Zombie King into death with her, detonating herself in a final act of defiance. She remembered the explosion, the screams of the traitors caught in its radius. At least she had dragged them all down with her.
And yet—she was here. Alive.
"…What's going on?"
She tried to move, but the body felt weak, malnourished, as though neglected for years. This wasn't her body. That much was certain. She scanned the dimly lit room, the faint creak of old wood pressing in around her, until her gaze landed on a battered phone resting on a desk.
She reached for it with trembling hands. The screen flickered to life, revealing information tied to this body's identity.
Eclipse Academy
1st Year
Stars: ★★★★ [Stars range from 1–7]
Her breath caught. The name displayed was not hers—not the one she remembered, not the one she had carried in her past life. But then again, her old name had already been abandoned years ago in the apocalypse. She had lived under the codename Night, a survivor without gifts, who clawed her way to the top with nothing but stubborn will and a dull core. Ten years of blood, sweat, and corpses had carried her to that bitter end.
And now… this.
She set the phone down, fingers tightening around it briefly before letting go. The words Eclipse Academy tugged at the edge of her memory, familiar yet blurred. She frowned, unsure why it lingered in her mind.
She turned toward the cracked mirror that leaned against the wall. Her reflection stared back: a girl with dark hair framing a delicate face, eyes that once carried murderous resolve now clouded with a faint confusion.
Her cheeks were pale and slightly sunken, thinner than they should be, and for a moment she hardly recognized herself.
Then, pain struck.
Her head throbbed as fragments of memories not her own surged within her. Names. Places. A world unlike the one she knew. Awakening. Stars. A planet she couldn't recall ever walking upon. Slowly, the ache subsided, leaving her standing in silence, her breathing sharp but steady.
The realization dawned with chilling clarity.
This… this is the world of that novel I once read during missions.
She remembered only pieces: the rise of a protagonist along with a heroine seemingly blessed by fate, the institutions guiding their path, and the countless nameless extras who were sacrificed along the way. Their stories forgotten, their lives stepping stones. And now, somehow, she was among them.
Her lips curved faintly—neither a smile nor a frown, just a cold detachment."So… this is where I've ended up."
She exhaled slowly, letting the thought settle. Nothing here stirred any fear; only a quiet awareness of the strange world she now inhabited. She didn't need to concern herself with others—extras, heroes, or the fates of nameless players. This was her path to observe, adapt, and endure.
A soft glow caught her eye. Panels were a part of every awakener here, a tool to measure one's potential. Naturally, she reached for hers, curious to see what she had been given.
She reached out instinctively.
"…Status," she murmured.
A translucent panel flickered before her eyes, visible only to her.
Name: Sylvie Moonvale
Age: 13
Class: Assassin
Stars: ★★★★
Abilities: Dagger Mastery
Title: Soul from Another World [Unique]
Her gaze lingered on the words, the corner of her lips lifting in a faint, contemplative smile.
"…Interesting."