The night was cool in Malaybalay City, the kind of night where the wind slipped gently through the mangga trees and carried the scent of grass and earth with it. Fireflies drifted lazily through the dark like floating stars, blinking in and out of existence as if the sky itself had descended into the forest. Uncle Tibur sat on a wide, flat rock beneath the tallest tree, his back resting comfortably against the rough bark while three boys gathered around him, their knees dusty from running and playing earlier that evening.
Justin sprawled on the ground, hands folded behind his head. Peter sat quietly beside him, always listening more than speaking. Mateo, as usual, leaned closest, eyes bright with excitement.
"Uncle," Justin said, already grinning, "tell us the story again. The power one."
Tibur chuckled softly. "You three never get tired of that story, do you?"
"It's the best one," Mateo said quickly. "Way better than school stories."
Tibur sighed dramatically, like an old man burdened by children who adored him. "Alright, alright. But listen properly this time. I won't repeat it again."
He tilted his head toward the night sky where countless stars shimmered faintly through the leaves.
"January 4, 2016," he began, his voice calm but steady. "That was the day the world stopped being normal."
The boys leaned closer.
"Before that day," Tibur continued, "there were no powers. No Gates. No monsters. Just homework, noisy cities, and people arguing about nonsense on the internet."
Justin laughed. "Sounds boring."
"It was," Tibur agreed with a small smile. "But peaceful."
His expression slowly grew serious.
"That morning, something fell from the sky. Not a plane. Not a meteor. A massive black rock—smooth like polished glass—landed in the desert without making a single explosion. Like it was placed there on purpose."
Peter frowned. "Nothing broke?"
"Nothing," Tibur said. "That's what scared everyone."
"Scientists from all over the world rushed to it. And carved on its surface were three words."
He paused.
Six Days Preparation.
Mateo whispered, "Preparation for what?"
"No one knew," Tibur replied. "Not then."
The forest felt quieter.
"On the second day, people began to feel strange. Like something humming inside their bodies. By the third day, powers appeared—small at first. Sparks in the hands. Shadows that moved on their own. Strength beyond human limits."
Justin's eyes widened. "That's so cool."
"It was," Tibur said softly. "And terrifying."
"By the fourth day, the whole world knew humans had changed. Some used their abilities to help. Others used them to steal, hurt, and rule. Chaos spread faster than the news."
The wind rustled the leaves harder.
"Then came the sixth day."
Tibur's voice dropped.
"The rock cracked open."
The boys held their breath.
"And the first Gates appeared across the world—glowing wounds in reality. From them came creatures from myths, nightmares, and things humanity had never imagined."
"Real monsters…?" Justin murmured.
"Real enough to destroy cities," Tibur said.
He explained how countries were forced to unite, creating the World Awakened Organization, how Hunters were trained to fight the creatures that poured from the Gates, and how rankings were made to measure danger and strength. The world had reorganized itself around survival. Schools taught emergency drills for Gate outbreaks.
Power became both a blessing and a weapon.
"That's when Hunters were born," Tibur said. "Humanity's answer to extinction."
Justin frowned. "So what makes someone a Hunter?"
"Anyone who awakens extraordinary powers is an awakener," Tibur said, his voice steady. "But a Hunter? That's different—you have to go through training with the Association, pass their assessments, and earn a license. It's what lets you legally go into Gates and fight the monsters."
He picked up a stick and drew lines in the dirt.
"At the bottom is E-rank. Weak. Many never move past it. Above that are D, C, B, A, and finally S-rank—each one a different level of strength."
Mateo leaned closer. "Is that all?"
"No," Tibur said. "From D-rank upward, Hunters are further divided."
He marked three symbols.
"Tertius. Secundus. Primus."
Peter spoke softly. "What's the difference?"
"Tertius are the first tier," Tibur said evenly. "They're strong compared to ordinary hunters, but in the hierarchy, they're the baseline."
He continued without emotion.
"It takes at least ten Tertius—well-trained and coordinated—to bring down one Secundus. And that's assuming the Secundus isn't holding back."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"Secundus operate on a different level of mana output and control. Their bodies can withstand what would cripple a Tertius. Their reaction speed alone creates a gap that numbers struggle to close."
He paused for a moment.
"And Primus…"
The air felt heavier.
"It takes ten Secundus to reliably defeat a single Primus. Not wound. Not stall. Defeat."
His voice lowered.
"A Primus isn't just stronger. Their mana capacity, destructive range, and battlefield dominance make them walking disasters. When a Primus enters a fight, the scale changes."
He looked straight ahead.
"Numbers matter below Primus. Above that… power decides everything."
Justin whistled. "So Primus are the strongest."
"Among normal Hunters," Tibur nodded.
Mateo hesitated. "You said normal."
Tibur's gaze lifted toward the stars.
"Because there are those who stand outside the system."
The fireflies drifted silently.
"They have no letter rank. No tier," Tibur continued. "People call them Rank Zero."
Justin scoffed. "Zero sounds weak."
Tibur smiled faintly. "That's what the world thought—until they fought."
"They're called the Fragments of God," he said. "Not because they're divine—but because their power breaks the rules. Like pieces of something greater shattered into human form."
Peter swallowed. "Why are they legends?"
"Because of the First Grand Gate."
The boys leaned in.
"It wasn't like other Gates," Tibur said. "It swallowed entire districts. Mana poured out like wildfire. Inside was a demon—a devil that burned everything it saw."
Mateo whispered, "Did they kill it?"
Tibur shook his head slowly.
"No. Even the Rank Zeros couldn't kill it. But they wounded it. For the first time, something from beyond this world bled."
Justin shivered. "So it ran away?"
"Yes," Tibur said. "Alive. Furious."
"And years later," he continued, "came the Second Grand Gate."
Peter's voice trembled. "Another demon?"
"Worse," Tibur said. "A dragon."
His voice dropped.
"So massive it filled the sky. Its flames were stronger than the devil's. When it looked at humans, it didn't see enemies—only insects."
Justin hugged his knees. "Did anyone survive?"
"They fought," Tibur said. "Rank Zeros at the front. Support behind them. Healers keeping death at bay."
A small smile touched his lips.
"And this time… humanity won."
The forest slowly exhaled.
"That," Tibur finished, "is why they're legends. Not because they're invincible—but because they stood where no one else could."
Silence followed.
"And that's it, that's how the modern world was born," Tibur said. "Not from progress - but from adaptation."
For a moment, only the chirping of insects filled the air.
Peter hesitated before speaking. "Uncle Tibur… after everything that happened… do you still believe in God?"
Tibur looked up at the sky again, his eyes reflecting faint starlight.
"Yes," he answered gently. "Power doesn't erase faith. It tests it. If anything, what happened only made me believe more that something greater is guiding all of this — whether we understand it or not."
Justin scratched his head. "So the rock didn't just give powers. It opened the world to something bigger?"
"Exactly," Tibur said.
The fire crackled softly as the three children leaned closer.
Tibur exhaled slowly, staring into the flames.
"It wasn't just the rock that changed the world," he said. "It was what came after."
Justin tilted his head. "The monsters?"
Tibur shook his head.
"No. The System."
The word made the children straighten.
"When a Hunter suddenly goes quiet for a second like they're reading something no one else can see. When their eyes shift slightly, focused on empty air. When they say their mana's low without checking anything."
He glanced to mateo briefly.
"The System doesn't appear publicly. It's personal. If a Hunter has one, only they can see it. No one else. No shared screens. No visible ranks floating in the air."
His voice remained calm.
"What you see is yours alone."
Mateo frowned slightly. "You mean the blue screen thing?"
Tibur smiled faintly. "That blue screen thing."
He reached for a stick and drew a square in the dirt.
"During those Six Days. People began to see something no one else could. Words floating in the air. Numbers. Skills. Status windows. Strength measured. Abilities named."
"Like a game?" Justin asked.
"That's what people called it at first," Tibur replied. "A game."
"But it wasn't fun."
The fire popped.
"The System appeared only to those who awakened. It recorded their strength. Classified them. Ranked them. Every Hunter from the weakest to the strongest could see their own status window. It calculated everything — stamina, mana, skill growth."
Peter's eyes widened. "So it made people stronger?"
"No," Tibur said quietly. "It measured them."
The three children fell silent.
"It doesn't give orders. It doesn't speak. It doesn't stop people from dying. It just… observes. After every fight, it updates. After every improvement, it adjusts."
Mateo stared at the fire. "Then why is it there?"
Tibur didn't answer immediately.
"That," he said slowly, "is the question no one can answer."
He looked at them one by one.
"Why would something fall from the sky… open Gates to another world… awaken powers in humanity…"
His voice lowered.
"…and then create a system to measure the results?"
The wind brushed past them.
Justin swallowed. "You think someone made it?"
"I think," Tibur said carefully, "that if something is measuring you… it's waiting for something."
The children exchanged uneasy glances.
"But don't worry," Tibur added with a small smile. "The System helped us survive. Without it, we might've been wiped out."
Mateo hesitated. "Uncle… has it ever been wrong?"
The question lingered in the air.
For a brief moment, Tibur's smile faded.
"No one has ever proven that it was," he said.
Then he looked back at the flames.
"But that doesn't mean it isn't possible."
The fire crackled again.
Mateo hugged his knees. "Do people still awaken powers?"
"Some awaken late," Tibur replied. "Some are born closer to it. And some… are chosen by something far beyond us."
Peter frowned thoughtfully. "Where did the rock even come from?"
Tibur's smile faded just slightly.
"That," he said quietly, "is a mystery even the strongest Hunters haven't solved."
There was a brief silence before Mateo asked what had clearly been on his mind.
"Uncle… do you have powers too?"
Justin leaned forward eagerly. "Yeah! Are you secretly super strong?"
Tibur laughed, rubbing his chin as if considering it. "Back during the chaos, I did discover someth—"
A violent rush of wings burst through the trees.
Birds exploded into the sky in a frenzy of screeches.
The ground trembled beneath their feet.
Not strong.
Not yet.
But wrong.
The air in front of them twisted like heat over fire, light folding inward, spinning faster and faster until a glowing vortex ripped open between the trees.
A Gate.
But unstable.
Wild.
Wind roared outward, tearing leaves from branches and whipping dust into the air.
Mateo stared, frozen. "Uncle… is that supposed to happen?"
Tibur didn't answer.
He simply looked at the swirling portal —calm, almost peaceful.
A small smile touched his lips.
"So," he whispered, barely audible, "it's time."
Peter grabbed his arm. "Time for what?"
Tibur knelt quickly, gripping all three boys by the shoulders, his voice suddenly firm but warm.
"Run to the road. Don't stop. Don't look back. No matter what you hear."
"But Uncle-"
"Mateo," Tibur said softly, meeting his eyes, "be brave."
A deep growl rolled from inside the Gate.
The ground shook harder now.
Something massive shifted within the glowing storm.
Tibur stood, placing himself between the children and the portal.
"Go."
They ran.
Branches scratched their arms as they sprinted through the trees, hearts pounding. Behind them came a thunderous crash as something enormous tore through the forest, snapping trunks like twigs. A broken tree flew past and slammed into the ground where they had been seconds earlier.
Mateo stumbled.
Suddenly Tibur was beside him — impossibly fast - shoving him forward.
"Live well," he whispered.
Then he turned back.
Golden light flared.
The wind screamed.
And Uncle Tibur stood alone against the Gate.
"UNCLE TIBUR!"
Mateo's voice tore from his chest as the golden light swallowed the forest.
The wind exploded outward in a violent shockwave, knocking the boys off their feet. Dust, leaves, and broken branches filled the air, blinding them as the roar of the Gate drowned out everything else. Mateo tried to crawl forward, reaching through the storm, screaming his uncle's name again and again, but strong hands yanked him backward — Justin and Peter pulling him away as the world behind them collapsed into chaos.
Light.
Noise.
Heat.
Then — nothing.
The memory shattered like glass.
Mateo gasped awake.
His eyes flew open as his chest rose sharply, breath coming fast as though he had been running through the forest again. The faint hum of insects was gone, replaced by the dull buzz of a ceiling fan spinning lazily above him. Morning light slipped through the thin curtains of his small room, painting soft gold lines across the cracked walls.
For a moment, he didn't move.
The memory of swirling light, roaring wind, and Uncle Tibur standing alone against the Gate burned behind his eyes like it had just happened.
Another dream.
Or rather… the same dream.
It always came back in pieces. The fireflies. The trees bending under violent wind. The feeling of being pushed forward while someone else stayed behind.
Mateo swallowed and rubbed his face, forcing himself back into the present.
"Again…" he muttered softly.
He sat up on the edge of the bed, letting his feet rest against the cool floor while the city slowly woke outside. Tricycles rattled in the distance, someone shouted about fresh pandesal, and a radio played an old love song somewhere down the street. Normal sounds. Real sounds. The kind that reminded him the nightmare from fourteen years ago was long past.
Current location: Philippines.
Barangay 31-D, Davao City.