Siyan's eyes snapped open. He didn't just wake up; he lunged forward, his upper body jerking upward as a jagged, primal gasp tore from his throat. His lungs felt like they had been filled with liquid nitrogen, freezing and burning all at once. His hands flew to his neck, his fingers digging into the flesh of his throat, searching for the jagged iron edge of the High Orc's blade.
'It was right here. It cut through. I felt the bone snap.'
He felt skin. Unbroken, smooth, and warm skin. No blood. No gaping hole. No cold steel. He moved his hands higher, frantically feeling his jaw, his ears, and then his hair.
'What? It's still on? My head is still on?'
"Hahaha..."
The laugh was dry and hysterical, a broken sound that barely left his lips. He was shaking so violently that his teeth were literally chattering. He looked down at his hands. They were smaller, thinner, and lacked the rough calluses he had earned from years of dragging guild equipment through dungeon mud. He wasn't in the dark, moss-covered cave of the E-Rank gate. He was sitting on a thin, lumpy mattress in a room that smelled of laundry detergent and cheap instant ramen.
A sudden, sharp thud came from the other side of the bedroom door, followed by the clatter of a wooden spoon hitting the floor.
"Siyan? Are you finally awake? You were screaming in your sleep again. Get up before the eggs get cold, or your sister will eat your portion too."
Siyan froze. His heart didn't just beat; it slammed against his ribs like a trapped animal. That voice. It was a voice he had buried under ten years of trauma and blood. It was soft, slightly naggy, and filled with a warmth that he hadn't felt since the world ended.
"Mom?" Siyan whispered. The word felt heavy, like a prayer he had forgotten how to say.
He scrambled out of bed, his legs tangling in the thin sheets. He fell hard against the floor, but he didn't care about the pain. He crawled toward the door, his breath coming in ragged hitches. He threw the door open so hard it bounced off the wall.
There, in the tiny, cramped kitchen of their old apartment, stood a woman with her hair tied back in a messy bun. She was humming a tune, flipping something in a pan. Beside her, a young girl with pigtails was sitting at a small table, swinging her legs and drawing in a notebook.
It was his mother. And his sister, Hana. Both of them were supposed to be dead. They were supposed to be among the first casualties of the Seoul Outbreak, crushed under the rubble of a collapsed shopping mall while Siyan was away at his first mandatory awakening seminar.
"Mom!" Siyan lunged forward, grabbing his mother in a crushing embrace. He buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. The smell of her sunflower fabric softener and cooking oil hit him like a physical blow.
"My goodness, Siyan! What is wrong with you?" his mother laughed, though her voice was laced with genuine concern as she patted his back. "It was just a nightmare. You're shaking like a leaf. Did you dream you failed the Awakening test or something?"
'No. I dreamed the world died. I dreamed I died.'
Siyan couldn't stop. He held onto her as if she would dissolve into ash if he let go. He looked over at Hana, who was staring at him with wide, confused eyes. He reached out and ruffled her hair, his hand trembling. She was alive. They were both here.
"Siyan, seriously, you're acting weird," Hana said, though she didn't pull away. "You're going to be late. Isn't today the day the Gate opening ceremony happens? You've been talking about it for months."
Siyan pulled back, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He looked at the calendar on the wall. It was the date. Ten years ago. The day the sky cracked, and the first Hunter Association was formed. The day the world changed forever.
'I really came back. I'm not a shield. I'm not bait. Not this time.'
As he tried to steady his breathing, a familiar, sharp ringing began to resonate in his skull. It started low, then built into a deafening frequency that made the kitchen light flicker. His mother and sister didn't seem to notice. To them, the room was silent.
A crimson screen, translucent and glitching with static, manifested directly in front of his eyes. Unlike the blue windows of his past life, this one felt heavy, ancient, and dangerously cold.
[Host Soul: Re-established.]
[Timeline Deviation: Detected.]
[Forced Synchronization Initiated...]
[Welcome, Siyan.]
[The Demon God System is now Active.]
'Holy Shit..'
Siyan stared at the screen, his eyes narrowing as the grief in his chest began to harden into something much sharper. The system wasn't a hallucination. It was his ticket to making sure that this time, nobody would be able to touch his family.
[Current Status: Mortal (E-Rank Potential)]
[Would you like to initialize the first quest?]