The library at New Haven University was quiet, the kind of silence that seemed to settle over the rows of bookshelves like a heavy blanket. Tony sat in the corner of the self-study room, a small desk lamp casting a warm glow over his textbooks. His pen scratched across the page as he copied notes, completely absorbed in the simple rhythm of studying. The occasional shuffle of footsteps or the creak of a chair being pulled out was the only sign of life around him.
But then, a prickle crawled up the back of his neck. He looked up slowly.
A young man stood there, his expression dark, his eyes heavy with something Tony couldn't place—hatred, despair, madness, maybe all three.
"Tony?" the man asked, his tone flat, unreadable.
Tony frowned. "Do I know you?"
There was no time for an answer. The man's right hand shot out of his pocket, gripping a fruit knife so tightly his knuckles were bone white.
"Die, you demon."
Tony froze, his mind blank for a second before panic hit him like a wave. He's trying to kill me?! Instinct took over; his arm shot up to block the attack.
"This blade," the man snarled, his voice trembling with fury, "is for the billions of innocent souls you'll slaughter!"
"Ah!" Pain ripped through Tony's body as the knife sank into his flesh, hot blood spilling down his arm. His vision blurred for a second, but something else flared inside him—a wild, primal defiance.
He had never been a fighter by choice, but growing up small and skinny meant he'd been the perfect target for bullies. Once, when they'd pushed him too far, he'd snapped, tackling the worst of them to the ground and refusing to let go even as fists and feet rained down on him. They'd both landed in the hospital that day, but after that, no one dared touch him again.
Now, with death staring him in the face, that same fire roared back to life.
"This stab," the attacker shouted, stabbing again and again, "is for Xin'er, the girl you tormented to death!"
"And this one—for the comrades who died because of you!"
Tony gritted his teeth, the white-hot pain fueling his rage. "The hell you talking about?!" he bellowed, grabbing the nearest chair and swinging it with all his strength.
The blow sent his attacker sprawling to the ground. The guy wasn't big or strong, and once Tony shook off his initial terror of the knife, the tables turned fast. He pinned the lunatic down, forcing the weapon away before someone finally called security.
Hours later, Tony sat in a hospital bed, bandages wrapped around his arm, his mind still reeling. The police had taken the attacker away, but even during questioning, nothing made sense.
He'd been a quiet, ordinary guy, never picking fights, never doing anything remotely deserving of this kind of hatred. Yet this stranger had looked him dead in the eyes and called him a demon, a mass murderer of innocents. The guy had raved about "Xin'er," about "countless souls," about some kind of future war.
It made no sense. Tony hadn't even killed a chicken in his life.
When the officers saw they weren't getting anywhere, they sighed and let him focus on his injuries. But the incident gnawed at him like a splinter under the skin. Why me? Why the hell would someone think I'm some kind of monster?
Later that night, in an interrogation room across town, the would-be killer sat bloodied but unbroken, a haunted look in his eyes.
"Name," the officer demanded.
"Occupation."
"Reason for attempted murder."
The man stared blankly ahead until a female officer slammed a hand on the table. "You nearly killed someone today. Start talking!"
Finally, he laughed—a cold, bitter sound. "I only regret one thing… that I failed to kill him." His gaze dropped to his own trembling hands. "This body… so weak… I couldn't stop it."
The officers exchanged uneasy glances, anger simmering beneath their confusion.
"If you knew what kind of monster that man becomes in the future," the suspect hissed, his voice low and seething, "you wouldn't be asking me this. You'd thank me."
The woman scoffed. "So you can see the future now? What nonsense—"
But the man ignored her. He glanced at the clock on the wall and began counting softly, "Ten… nine… eight…"
"What the hell are you doing?" one of the officers barked, uneasy now. Something about his tone made their skin crawl.
"…One. Zero."
Nothing happened. Relief started to creep into the room—until a strange light began to fill the air, shimmering, otherworldly, creeping into their bodies like living mist.
"The Supreme Will descends." The man's eyes widened with a mix of awe and despair. "The Era of Awakening has come… and still, the Demon King rises."
From his hospital bed on the eighteenth floor, Tony had been dozing off when a strangled cry from the next bed made his eyes snap open.
Then he saw it.
The night sky tore open like shattered glass, a vast rift bleeding streams of radiant light down to the earth below. Glimmering rivers of energy poured into every corner of the world.
The light surged into the hospital, into his very body, erasing his wounds in seconds. At the same time, strange information flooded his mind, a knowledge not his own.
The Supreme Will has chosen your world. From this moment forth, humanity enters the Age of Awakening. Every person shall gain a Talent, a chance to defy mortality, to touch the extraordinary. But along with this gift comes nightmares from other worlds, drawn to devour your light.
Tony's breath came quick, his heart hammering as the realization sank in. A world where everyone could awaken supernatural abilities? It sounded like something out of a game or a fantasy novel.
He didn't know what kind of disasters were coming—that was a problem for heroes and soldiers. Right now, all he could think about was one thing: What's my Talent?
A translucent panel appeared before his eyes, letters flickering like an interface struggling to load. The screen blurred, glitched, then finally sharpened into focus.
[Name: Tony]
[Level: 0]
[Talent: Innate Divinity (EX)]
[Strength: 8 (10)]
[Agility: 7 (10)]
[Constitution: 8 (10)]
[Spirit: 7 (10)]
[Skills: None]
Additional tabs flickered beneath: Dungeons, Inventory, Friends…
"EX-Rank?" Tony blinked, stunned. He hadn't even heard of such a thing.
As his gaze locked on the Talent description, new text unfurled:
[Innate Divinity (EX)]
Effect 1 – Immortal and Undying: No force can truly kill you. Upon death, you may choose to resurrect instantly or at a safe location.
Effect 2 – Breath Take Makes Me Stronger: With every breath, you grow stronger in all aspects, with perfect control. The higher your level, the greater the growth rate.
Tony stared, dumbfounded.
This wasn't just good—it was absurd. Broken beyond belief. Immortality alone defied logic, but growing infinitely stronger just by breathing? Even now, he could feel it, power subtly surging through his body. His stats ticked upward by 0.1 as he inhaled.
He let out a shaky laugh, half-disbelieving, half-ecstatic. "This… this is insane. I'm invincible…"
And for the first time since the knife attack, a fierce grin spread across his face. Whatever future awaited, whatever "Demon King" nonsense that lunatic had spewed… with this power, no one could touch him.