I stood in the middle of my empty realm — my so-called "EX-rank ability." A goddamn football field-sized circle of dirt floating in an endless void. No sky. No sound. Just me and the silence of nothing.
I looked down at my hands, trembling slightly.
"Great. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Grow potatoes?"
The system window floated before me, glowing faintly.
[Quest: Acquire 10 Aether Shards]
Progress: 0/10
Reward: Unlock Portal Customization.
I gritted my teeth. "So I need to clear portals to get shards. Either that or raid someone else's world."
I laughed bitterly. "Yeah, sure. I'll just go invade someone's realm while I still panic at my own reflection. Brilliant."
Raiding others would mean suicide. Those "fields" I saw before — the ones floating in the vast void like bubbles — they belonged to people way stronger than me. I was still in what the system called the Tutorial Phase. Even if I tried, the shield around my realm wouldn't let anyone in or out unless both sides agreed to battle.
So, my only option? Clear a portal on Earth.
A suicidal plan, but it was that or sit here and rot.
I took a deep breath.
"What if the tide of monsters is still there? What if I walk out and just die right away?"
A moment of silence. Then I muttered, "…Bullshit. I'm not dying like a damn extra."
I tapped the glowing portal symbol on my screen, and the world around me shimmered. A swirling gate of blue and white energy appeared before me.
Time to go back.
When I stepped through, the first thing that hit me wasn't the air — it was the silence. A silence so heavy it felt wrong.
The city… was gone.
Crumbled buildings. Rubble everywhere. Smoke rose from what used to be apartments, and cars lay crushed like tin cans. The streets I used to walk on were now a graveyard.
I stumbled forward, eyes darting around. "What the… what happened here?"
The faint smell of burnt metal filled my nose. I could still see a flickering emergency broadcast on a half-broken holo-screen nearby.
⚠ ALERT: Monsters sighted in Sector 8. All civilians are advised to evac—
[SIGNAL LOST]
"Shit…" I whispered, my throat tightening. "It's gone to hell."
And then — I felt it.
That feeling. Like a knife pressed against the back of my neck.
My peripheral vision twitched.
Something was watching me.
Slowly, I turned.
There it was. A monster — its body twisted, limbs too long, eyes glowing red. Its skin shimmered like wet tar. It was the size of a lamppost and it was staring right at me.
My whole body froze. My thoughts went blank.
Move! Move, damn it!
The monster lunged. My legs wouldn't respond — until—
A flash of light burst from the side.
The creature was kicked mid-air, repulsed like it hit a truck. The kick came from an old man — white hair, calm face, dressed in a black suit with a rapier in hand.
He looked like he came out of a different world.
The man barely glanced at me. His eyes locked on the monster as he whispered,
"Skill: Barrage."
And then he vanished.
Or rather, he moved so fast my eyes couldn't keep up.
I saw only streaks of silver light, and in the next second, holes the size of basketballs appeared all over the monster's body. Blood splattered across the street.
The monster fell, lifeless.
The old man took out a small walkie-talkie.
"Sector 27 cleared. D-rank infestation eliminated."
His voice was calm — detached.
He looked at me again, eyes cold, and muttered,
"The evacuation center's at Fort Argent, two blocks north. Don't die."
And just like that, he vanished into the smoke.
I stood there, shaking. "Fort Argent…? What the hell just happened?"
I looked at the monster's corpse. The old man was gone, but something was glowing on the creature's chest. A faint, purple shimmer.
Curiosity won over fear.
I walked closer. "No way…"
There, embedded in the monster's flesh, was a crystal — small, pulsing faintly like a dying heart.
An Aether Shard.
My eyes widened.
"Wait, the system said you can only get those by clearing portals or trading…"
I stared at it, disbelief flooding in. "Is the system fucking with me?"
Still, my hands moved on their own. I reached out and grabbed the shard. It felt warm — almost alive.
[Aether Shard Acquired: +1]
A window popped up before my face. My breath hitched.
[Currency: 1 Aether]
"…Holy shit."
I couldn't believe it — my first ever shard.
But the moment I gripped it tightly, the shard crumbled into dust. The light faded, absorbed into my hand.
"Wha—hey! What the fuck?!"
The system calmly responded.
[Aether automatically converted to usable currency.]
Current Balance: 1 Aether.
I stood there in silence, staring at my trembling hands.
So it's real.
The system, the shards, the monsters — all of it.
This is the new world now.
I looked up at the ruined cityscape, smoke rising into the dark sky.
"That old man… he killed that thing like it was nothing."
I clenched my fists.
"I can't keep running. I can't stay weak."
For the first time since the "Gift from Above," I felt something burning inside me.
Not fear.
Resolve.
"I'll survive," I whispered. "And one day, I'll be the one people look at like that."
The wind howled through the ruins, carrying the faint scent of ash and blood.
And deep inside my mind, the system chimed softly.
[Main Quest: Survive the First Wave.]
Reward: ???
I stared at it for a long moment — then smiled weakly.
"Guess this is where the real game starts."
I dusted off my hands and stared at the ruined street like it owed me something. One shard. One lousy Aether. Nine to go. Nine that would stop this whole "I'm a broke god" nonsense.
If I wanted shards, I had to get nasty. That meant digging through the corpses of the city and the carcasses of whatever those monsters were. It meant crawling over concrete guts, prying open smashed storefronts, and getting real close to things that wanted to swallow me whole.
First, I needed tools. Bare hands weren't going to cut it.
I moved through the rubble like a rat through trash — stepping over twisted metal, past smoldering cars, and under the skeleton of what used to be a bus stop. The place smelled like rust and old fear. Every so often I'd kick something and flinch, half expecting a monster to pop up and eat my face.
A broken kitchen lay exposed in a shattered apartment. I pried open a drawer and found a dull chef's knife with blood and ash crusted on the handle. It didn't scream "hero weapon," it screamed "use once, bleed out later," but it was something. I jammed it into my belt.
Then, under a collapsed stairwell, my fingers hit cold metal — a length of rebar, bent like a question mark. It wasn't pretty, but weight equals momentum, and momentum equals maybe buy-you-two-seconds. I dragged it free, wiped the grime with the edge of my shirt, and held it like it might ward off demons just by existing.
I tested the balance. It was terrible. The knife's edge was chipped, the rebar had a rusty burr that sliced my glove when I tightened my grip. Still — it was better than nothing.
A thought crawled up the back of my neck and whispered real mean: Will I be able to kill a monster that big with a fucking rebar and a kitchen knife?
I laughed — a short, ugly sound. "No. No, I won't." The answer was honest and useless. It hurt.
So I made a rule. Practical, stupid, necessary: only use these if I have to. If some pole-sized abomination decides my face would make a good starter, then yeah — swing the rebar. Pry its eyeballs out with the knife. But otherwise? Keep them hidden and don't be an idiot.
Because the real business was still dead bodies. Shards grew out of carcasses like rotten fruit. If I wanted ten, I needed to focus on finding where the monsters fell — portal sites, collapsed battlezones, places the big dogs had already beaten up. The old man's walkie-talkie said Sector 27 cleared D-ranks; that meant corpses. Corpses meant shards.
I crouched beside a mangled sedan and peered into the alley. Somewhere down the block a siren wailed and then cut off. Smoke rolled past like an animal. The city was still dying, but it had a rhythm — a horrible, desperate one. If I could find the rhythm, I could find the corpses. If I found the corpses, I'd find shards.
My jaw clenched. The rebar felt heavier in my hand now — not because of its mass, but because of intent. This was survival, not glory. I wasn't swinging to be a hero. I was swinging so I could buy trees in my damn empty realm.
I shoved the knife into my boot and slung the rebar over my shoulder. Each footstep crunched like a promise: don't die, don't flinch, don't be a clown.
One shard down. Nine to go.
Let's see how lucky I can be with a busted rebar and a maniac's stubbornness.