The café was warm, the soft light of the hanging lamps spilling across the tables, cutting through the dusk that had settled over the city. The streets outside were alive with the usual bustle of city life—people heading home from work, groups of friends laughing as they passed by, the distant hum of cars.
Nina stretched her arms, letting out a satisfied sigh as she leaned back in her chair. “I need more days like this,” she said with a small smile. “It’s good to take a break every now and then.”
Vincent nodded absently, his eyes drifting toward the window. The city, bathed in the last light of the setting sun, seemed peaceful. But something tugged at him, a feeling he couldn’t shake—a heaviness in the air, like a storm about to break. He frowned, trying to focus on the present, but the unease lingered.
“Earth to Vincent,” Nina teased, waving a hand in front of his face. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” He smiled faintly, turning his attention back to her. She was always good at grounding him, pulling him out of his head when the world felt too distant.
Suddenly, the ground beneath them shuddered—a deep, bone-rattling tremor that caused the glasses on their table to clatter. Outside, people paused mid-step, confusion flickering across their faces as they looked around. The tremor passed, but the unease didn’t.
Nina was on her feet in an instant, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword. Her eyes were sharp, scanning the horizon. “Gate,” she whispered, her eyes wide.
As if in answer to her words, the sky split open.
It started as a crack, barely noticeable against the darkening sky. But within moments, the tear widened, jagged and black, like a wound in the fabric of reality itself. From its depths came a low, resonant hum—a sound so deep it seemed to vibrate in the bones, unsettling, unnatural. People in the streets looked up, their faces twisting in confusion and growing fear. The hum deepened into a low drone, like the approach of something vast and unstoppable.
Nina’s eyes narrowed, and she quickly grabbed her phone, her fingers moving in a blur as she sent a rapid message to the guild. “They need to send everyone,” she muttered, her voice tight. “If this is what I think it is, I need to stall it until they get here.”
The gate widened, and from its depths, something emerged.
At first, it looked almost human—a tall, thin figure stepping through the tear in reality. But as it moved, it became clear that whatever it was, it had only borrowed the shape of a human. Its body shimmered like glass, transparent yet solid, flickering in and out of focus like a mirage. Its head was featureless, smooth and devoid of eyes or a mouth, yet Vincent could feel its gaze on him—on everyone. It was like the air around it bent and warped, as if reality itself was struggling to comprehend its presence.
It moved with an unnatural fluidity, its limbs too long, too slender, bending in ways that defied the laws of nature. Each step it took sent ripples through the ground, as if it was not walking on solid earth but through layers of existence.
The air grew heavy, thick with an oppressive silence. There were no screams, no panic. Just a suffocating dread that settled over the city like a blanket. People froze where they stood, paralyzed by the sheer wrongness of the thing. It didn’t need to roar or thrash to inspire terror—it simply was, and its existence alone was enough to unravel the minds of those who saw it.
Nina’s hand trembled as she lifted her sword. “Vincent… stay back. It’s an apocalypse monster.”
Without waiting for his response, she charged. Her sword cut through the air, a burst of energy trailing behind it. The blade struck the creature’s glass-like body, and for a split second, it worked—the figure staggered, its form flickering like a disrupted signal.
But then it reformed, the damage mending itself in the blink of an eye. The glassy surface rippled and smoothed over, as if the attack had never happened. The creature turned its head, its faceless gaze locking onto Nina. The pressure in the air grew heavier, the weight of the creature’s presence pressing down on everything.
Nina retreated a step, her eyes wide with disbelief. “No… no way…”
From the edge of the street, a flash of light cut through the darkness as a squad of awakeners appeared, their powerful auras sweeping over the city. They arrived in force—fire crackling, lightning arcing through the sky, their weapons drawn and ready.
“They are A-rank awakeners.” Nina muttered.
The leader, a woman wreathed in flames, shouted as she led the charge. “Everyone, focus your attacks! We’ll take it down!”
The street exploded into chaos. Fireballs and bolts of energy streaked through the air, slamming into the creature with all the force of a concentrated assault. The awakeners unleashed everything they had, their attacks filling the night with blinding light and deafening noise.
“I should join them, may be we can stall more time before the reinforcement arrive.” Nina’s eyes flickered with hope. But it didn’t matter.
The creature’s form absorbed the blows, bending and shifting as if the attacks were nothing more than whispers on the wind. Each time it was struck, its body rippled, momentarily disrupted before reassembling itself—whole, untouched.
One of the awakeners, a man wielding a massive war hammer, let out a battle cry as he charged. His weapon crackled with electricity, and he brought it down with all his strength on the creature’s head. The hammer connected with a sickening crunch, shattering the air around them. A crack appeared on the body of monster.
For a moment, there was hope.
And then the creature moved. Its hand—a long, slender appendage that seemed to shimmer and flicker—reached out and touched the man’s chest. There was no sound, no explosion of power. Just a quiet, gentle touch.
The man’s body convulsed. His eyes went wide with horror as his skin began to ripple, the flesh distorting in impossible ways. His bones cracked, his muscles tore, and in a grotesque, silent twist, his entire body folded in on itself like a crumpled piece of paper. Blood sprayed across the pavement, but the sound of his death was swallowed by the oppressive silence.
The creature dropped what remained of the man to the ground, a ruined mass of flesh and bone. It turned its faceless gaze to the rest of the awakeners.
A woman wreathed in lightning tried to strike it from behind, her blade crackling with electricity. But the moment her sword touched its body, the electricity turned against her. The energy shot up her arm, burning through her skin, her veins turning black as the lightning consumed her from within. She collapsed, her body smoking, her face frozen in a rictus of agony.
Another man, cloaked in shadows, attempted to flank the creature, his form disappearing into the darkness as he moved with inhuman speed. But before he could land a blow, the creature extended one of its arms, the limb lengthening unnaturally, its fingers wrapping around the man’s throat. He didn’t even have time to scream. His body shriveled, his skin tightening over his bones as the life was drained from him in an instant.
Blood soaked the street, bodies lay crumpled like discarded dolls, and the few remaining awakeners stood frozen in horror. They had thrown everything at it, but nothing had worked.
Nina was on her feet again, her sword clutched tightly in her trembling hands. She was breathing heavily, her eyes wide with panic, but she didn’t back down. “I have to keep it here,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “Just a little longer…”
Before Vincent could stop her, she charged again, her blade gleaming with desperation. She swung with all her strength, the sword crashing against the creature’s side. But in a blink, the Apocalypse monster shifted. It didn’t move so much as appear in front of her—one moment it was still a few meters away, and then it was right there. Its long, glassy hand struck her chest before she could react.
Vincent saw it happen, but it felt distant, like watching a scene unfold on a television screen—disconnected, unreal. He didn’t move. Didn’t shout. He just watched, frozen as if his mind refused to register the horror before him. The world around him seemed to slow, the air growing thick, the sound of the city’s panic muffled and far away.
Nina gasped as the monster’s hand tore through her armor. Blood welled up around the wound, staining her clothes as she collapsed. She didn’t scream, didn’t even cry out. She simply fell, crumpling at the monster’s feet like a puppet with its strings cut.
Vincent blinked, his mind sluggish, still not quite processing what had just happened. But when Nina hit the ground, something inside him snapped back to the present. His body moved on its own, rushing forward as he knelt beside her. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes unfocused. The wound across her chest gaped open, blood pouring freely, her skin growing paler by the second.
He held her in his arms, but there was nothing romantic or emotional about it. He wasn’t comforting her—he wasn’t even sure what he was doing. His mind struggled to make sense of the scene. His hands felt foreign as they pressed against the wound, trying in vain to stop the bleeding. It was as though he was outside himself, watching his body go through the motions without truly being a part of it.
The Apocalypse monster stood before him, its gaze—or whatever passed for a gaze—fixed on Vincent. It didn’t attack. It didn’t move. It simply stood there as if waiting for something.
For a moment, he saw someone else—a girl, blurred, her face indistinct in his memory. It was as though, when he was with her, he wasn’t fully himself—like a part of him shifted, almost imperceptibly, into someone else. That sensation, whatever it was, had kept him from cutting her off like he usually did with others.
Nothing made sense. Not the monster, not Nina, not the feeling in his chest that told him this was only the beginning. He knew the answers lay beyond this moment, beyond this world, beyond the gates and dungeons.
As Vincent cradled Nina’s limp body, the sound of heavy footsteps and shouting reached him. Reinforcements. Several awakeners rushed forward, their faces contorted in shock and horror as they took in the scene—the dead awakeners, the blood-soaked street, and the towering monster that still hadn’t moved.
Their eyes fixed on Vincent, standing there with Nina in his arms. One of them, a woman in battle-scarred armor, pointed her weapon toward him. “Stand down!” she shouted, her voice thick with fear. “Why isn’t the monster attacking you? Did you summon it?!”
More voices joined in, panic rising in their ranks as they advanced, weapons drawn, ready to strike if he made the wrong move. Vincent could see it in their eyes: fear and suspicion. He understood why they won’t trust him. He was too suspicious. Unregistered awakener with strength far beyond his measured rank.
“Ellen, You said I’d find answers there…” he muttered to himself, almost in disbelief. His voice was low, barely audible over the chaos surrounding him. “Seems like it was my fate after all.“
He turned toward the gate, its swirling darkness calling to him like a distant, inevitable pull. As he began to walk, the Apocalypse monster shifted. Without a sound, it glided past him, its glassy, shifting form brushing the air beside him as though it were nothing more than a shadow. It didn’t attack—just passed him by, its long limbs folding and flowing as it re-entered the gate, vanishing into the black void from which it came.
Vincent watched it go, his heart steady, his decision made. He followed, his steps measured, and without hesitation, he too crossed into the gate. As he crossed the threshold into the gate, the world behind him faded away.
And Vincent left it all behind.
