Location: G.D.A. Headquarters, Geneva
Date & Time: January 16, 2025 | 02:00 AM (Geneva Time)
The underground command center in Geneva had transformed into a frantic panic room. Red emergency lights pulsed rhythmically, and the deafening shriek of sirens threatened to shatter eardrums. Richard stood paralyzed before his massive array of monitors; the confident authority he had radiated just days ago was replaced by sheer, naked terror.
"Sir! I can't hold the lines!" a chief operator screamed over the noise. "We're getting simultaneous distress calls from six different global associations! Everyone is on the line at once!"
Richard stared at the screen where six video feeds blinked urgently.
The General of the U.S.A.A. (America) was roaring, "Our frontline in New York has collapsed! We can't hold the tide back!"
The leader of the Knights of Avalon (U.K.), his face covered in blood, hissed, "London is burning, Richard! Where are your promised G.D.A. reinforcements?"
The Winter Vanguard (Russia), the N.D.A.I. (India), and the Sun Guild (Japan)—everyone was screaming for answers.
Above them all, the voice of the Commander from The Heavenly Shield (China) sliced through the chaos. "Richard, your system is a joke! The standard weapons you issued to our Dungers are garbage! Our D-Rankers are powerful, but their common steel blades are shattering against the hides of these monsters! You've sent half our army to their deaths without a single functional weapon!"
Richard had no answer. He had built the ranks, he had built the associations, but he hadn't accounted for the fact that Earth's common steel would be as fragile as glass against mana-infused armor. The world's strongest defenders were being slaughtered simply because their gear was useless.
Location: Main Highway, Mumbai (India)
Date & Time: January 16, 2025 | 06:30 AM (IST)
The sky had turned a sickly, bruised orange from the smoke of a thousand fires. On Mumbai's main highway, civilians abandoned their vehicles and fled in terror. Right behind them, a twenty-foot-long 'bleeding fracture' continued to vomit a fountain of monsters onto the asphalt.
An N.D.A.I. D-Rank Warrior, boasting a solid 9,000 MP, stepped forward with grim resolve. Before him stood four D-Rank monsters, each hovering around 7,200 MP. Logically, the Warrior was superior. He channeled every ounce of his mana into his arms and delivered a crushing blow with his G.D.A.-issued steel sword toward the lead monster's throat.
CLANG!
Instead of the spray of blood he expected, there was only the sound of snapping metal. The Warrior's eyes widened in horror. His high-grade steel blade had shattered into two pieces against the monster's reinforced, scale-covered skin. Human iron simply couldn't bite into the otherworldly hide.
The monster barely had a scratch. Without pausing, its mutated jaws clamped down onto the now-unarmed Warrior's chest. The other three monsters pounced instantly. A man with 9,000 MP was ripped apart like a rag doll, not because he lacked strength, but because he lacked the right weapon.
Chaos ruled the streets. Awakened and civilians alike were being culled like sheep as the world realized its primary defense was broken.
Location: A Rooftop in Dharavi, Mumbai
Time: 07:00 AM (IST)
Rudra sat perched atop a water tank on an under-construction building, the screams from the street below echoing in his ears. He watched as an E-Rank monster stalked toward a terrified woman and her young child hiding behind a wrecked car.
The eighteen-year-old boy within Rudra, the one who had recently lost his own parents, suddenly flared to life. His jaw tightened. He reached out his right hand, summoning his D-Rank dark dagger through the Phantom Blade trick. He was ready to leap.
"Where are you going, Hero?" Ruin Soul's voice, as cold and sharp as ice, stopped him mid-motion.
"Those are civilians. I can save them," Rudra hissed, his voice trembling with repressed rage. "My dagger can cut through those things easily."
"Yes, your dagger is special because it was forged by Darksmith," Ruin Soul stated, injecting a brutal dose of logic into Rudra's mind. "But remember your own MP. You're at 5,200—you've barely crossed the threshold into D-Rank. Those monsters down there are at 7,200. And they aren't alone."
"I can take them with my speed," Rudra argued.
"Maybe, if it was a fair fight," Ruin Soul looked down at the carnage. "But look at those N.D.A.I. fools. Even with 9,000 MP, they are being torn apart because the monsters hunt in packs. If you jump down there and five monsters surround you, your 5,200 MP will be drained in seconds. You won't save them; you'll just die alongside them."
Rudra's hands began to shake. He watched the bodies piling up on the road. The helplessness was suffocating, but Ruin Soul's words were a bitter, undeniable truth. Human weapons had failed, and his own power wasn't yet enough to face a horde.
"This is the world's natural culling," Ruin Soul drove the point home. "If it hurts you, remember this pain. Let it feed your hunger. Don't go down there yet. Let the monsters spread out. When they are isolated, we will hunt the E-Ranks and the weak D-Ranks whose MP is lower than yours. We will harvest their materials and build your power. If you want to live, stop trying to be a hero. Be a scavenger."
Rudra took one last, painful look at the woman and child as the crowd pushed them further down the street and out of sight. He closed his eyes, exhaled a heavy breath, and vanished his dagger back into the void.
"Fine," Rudra's voice was now unnervingly quiet and cold. "We hunt until I cross that 10,000 MP limit. And these monsters... their remains will become the forge for my new weapons."
Chapter Summary
Global Crisis: A.W.A.K.E. and G.D.A. are in a state of total collapse. The biggest revelation of the night: Standard human weapons (steel) are useless against the mana-armored hides of monsters.
The Reality Check: A high-level D-Rank Warrior (9,000 MP) is killed because his sword shattered against a lower-level monster (7,200 MP).
The Choice: Rudra experiences the urge to save civilians but is stopped by Ruin Soul's cold logic. He is forced to accept that his current 5,200 MP is too low to survive a group fight.
The Strategy: Rudra decides to abandon heroism for survival. He will act as a 'Scavenger,' hunting isolated, weaker monsters to harvest materials for Darksmith and increase his MP past the 10,000 mark.
Mental State: Rudra's transition into a cold, strategic predator is almost complete. He is trading his grief for a calculated hunger for power.