The world ended on a Monday. Not with a bang, but with a silence so loud it shook the bones of every living thing. Min-Jae sat on the edge of the school rooftop, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. The summer breeze was warm but carried a strange chill beneath its softness. His eyes were half-lidded, dull, as if the weight of life had already crushed any spark inside him. He didn't care about the classes he skipped or the dull lectures waiting below. His mother's death a year ago had left a hollow crater where his dreams once lived. Above, the sky was breaking. A jagged slash of silver light ripped through the clouds, spreading like a wound across the blue canvas. It pulsed, a living thing, dripping radiance and shadows in equal measure. "What the hell..." Min-Jae murmured, flicking ash off his cigarette. The city noise seemed to mute. Even the birds vanished, as if the world itself was holding its breath. His phone buzzed violently in his pocket. He pulled it out, eyes narrowing at the screen's harsh red banner: [EMERGENCY ALERT: UNKNOWN PHENOMENON DETECTED OVER SEOUL. SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY.] His lips curled into a bitter smile. "Shelter, huh? Like that's gonna help." The silence shattered with a distant wail — sirens screaming through the city's arteries. Min-Jae's gaze snapped back to the sky. The tear had widened, rippling with crackling energy. Then, as if reality itself was bleeding, shapes poured through. Creatures.
[3:10]Twisted silhouettes that twisted the mind to imagine. One had a skull for a face, its empty eye sockets glowing with malevolence. Another slithered like a serpent but carried jagged blades where claws should have been. Others had wings that blocked out the sun, bodies that looked like nightmares stitched from shadows. Min-Jae's breath hitched. In a heartbeat, chaos erupted below. Cars crashed, tires screeching. People screamed, shoving and scrambling in every direction. A monstrous figure smashed through a bus, folding metal like paper and spewing fire. Instinct screamed at Min-Jae to run. His feet found the stairs in a blur, the rooftop forgotten. The underground shelter beneath the school was cramped and suffocating. A hundred students pressed together, the air thick with panic and sweat. Min-Jae leaned against the cold concrete wall, chest rising and falling like a bellows. Faces blurred around him — tears, prayers, angry shouts — all drowned out by the pounding in his ears. A crackling voice came through the PA system, trying and failing to sound authoritative: "Remain calm. The military is mobilizing. Do not leave until further notice." But no one listened. Not really. Because the world had already shattered. The Gates. They weren't natural. Not portals. Not ripples in time. They were wounds. Deep, gaping wounds in the fabric of the world. They appeared with no warning. One in each continent. Colossal, swirling vortexes of raw, chaotic mana — part light, part darkness, part something else no one could name.[3:10]From them poured horrors, monsters that warped reality itself. The laws of physics bent and cracked near their edges. Magic, once a myth whispered only in fantasy, became undeniable, unavoidable. The government scrambled to contain the damage. Soldiers armed with experimental weapons tried to hold the lines. They failed. Because then came the Awakened. Min-Jae's awakening was not graceful. It came like a blade to the chest. One night, after weeks of hiding and running, the world dark and fractured around him, he dreamed. A void stretched endlessly, black and cold. Before him hovered a glowing orb, alive with pulsing red light. You have been chosen. The words etched themselves into his mind. Class: Sword Master. Level 1. He tried to speak, but no sound came. Do you accept? His body trembled. He nodded. Pain exploded in his chest — searing, blinding — and then... nothing. He woke drenched in sweat, heart hammering against his ribs. His phone lay shattered on the floor, its screen spider-webbed in cracks. His vision snapped sharper, the air around him humming with new energy. Floating before his eyes was a HUD, translucent and shimmering like a ghost: Name: Min-Jae Class: Sword Master Level: 1 Health: 100/100 Mana: 30/30 Abilities: Sword Slash (Lv1) His lips twitched in disbelief. "What the hell is this...?" Days passed, and the changes became undeniable. His body healed faster. His senses sharpened. The dull ache of hopelessness thinned, replaced by a flicker of something — hope? Purpose? Training became an obsession. Every
[3:10]scrap of knowledge about swordsmanship, combat, and magic he could find, he devoured. He tested his sword ability — a simple slash of mana forged into a blade. It cut through rusted metal like paper, left glowing scars on concrete walls. He pushed harder. Outside, the world spiraled. Gates multiplied. Monsters grew stronger. Entire districts became battlefields. The military's ranking system, built around a mysterious machine that gauged class potential, became the measure of survival. Ranks from F to S. The rarer the class, the higher the rank. Min-Jae was classified S-tier. But that meant nothing when death stalked the streets. He learned to fight alongside others like him, forming fragile alliances. Trust was a luxury few could afford. Every fight pushed him closer to exhaustion, but also to strength. One night, after clearing a small Gate on the outskirts of Seoul, Min-Jae collapsed against the rubble, chest heaving. Blood dripped from a cut on his forehead. His sword, now glowing faintly with mana, rested heavy in his hand. He looked up at the fractured sky, where the massive Origin Gate shimmered ominously in the distance. His mind whispered a question that burned like a brand. Why? Why had the world broken? Why had these Gates appeared? What nightmare had torn reality apart? No one had answers. But Min-Jae knew one thing. This was just the beginning. And somewhere, deep within the heart of the largest Origin Gate, something waited. Watching. Smiling. The game had begun.