About 370 years ago, the world fell into ruin.
Continuous meteor showers rained down upon Earth, ripping open the sky and tearing through cities. What arrived with those meteors were creatures humanity had never imagined—Interstellars, monstrous entities from beyond the void. Their arrival cut the global population in half. Through fear, starvation, and endless bloodshed, humanity teetered on the edge of extinction.
Then one man changed everything.
Dhruva. The man God.
Wielding nothing but a war hammer and an unshakable will, he crushed the Interstellars underfoot. The power that awakened in him—chakras—spread throughout humanity, unlocking the dormant potential hidden in their bodies. With this new strength, mankind reclaimed the world.
But they also built a new hierarchy.
Dhruva's descendants spread across continents, forming Dominions, regimes where the powerful governed and the powerless were trampled. The world rebuilt itself on obedience, lineage, and fear.
Present day.
Deep underground, inside a massive dome with charcoal-dark walls and almost no light, the heads of four major strongholds gathered in forbidden secrecy.
Devashish Aarin of the Aarin Household.
Samrat Rathore of the Rathore Household.
Varuna Khuraar of the Khuraar Household.
Jai Singh Senapathi of the Senapati Household.
Alongside them, twenty of their branch family leaders—each one an influence in their own right—stood waiting. They had only one goal:
To orchestrate the downfall of the current Hammer Saint, Rajendra Vellory.
Devashish Aarin broke the silence first, irritation sharp in his voice.
"No matter how much we plan, something completely unpredictable keeps happening."
Samrat Rathore leaned forward, scowling.
"Exactly. Where the hell did this Adithya Vellory come from all of a sudden? Rajendra claims he's the crown prince, but when did the Hammer Saint position become a private family throne? Something is seriously wrong here."
Varuna Khuraar opened his mouth, "Yes—"
but Jai Singh Senapathi cut him off.
"Every time a Hammer Saint is chosen, the Trial of the Hammer takes place. The strongest contender becomes the next one. It's always been that way—every generation, fighters from all strongholds compete. But the moment Rajendra took the mantle, he abolished the trials."
The branch heads murmured in angry agreement.
Devashish continued, "And we can't even question him."
A branch family head—a man in his late thirties—stood up, face red with rage.
"Why not? If all our branch families unite with your strongholds, we can overpower him!"
The chamber burst into laughter.
Humiliated, the man sat back down.
Devashish smirked.
"Really? You think your five branch families—Rajmiran, Bhatrivan, Suryaksh, Chaturvik, Vaishkar—can take on Rajendra? Forget fighting him directly—can you even beat his branch families? The Velkar, Shakthiraya, Dhanveer, Tejraksh, Vajrani?"
He turned to Varuna.
"He's from your branch family, isn't he?"
Varuna gritted his teeth. "Yes."
Devashish laughed harder.
"No wonder he asked such a stupid question."
The mocking joined the walls like a lingering echo, setting Varuna's blood boiling. His branch families seethed, but none dared speak. The Vellory power was too absolute.
Devashish composed himself and continued.
"Rajendra Vellory is a monster. According to C.O.S.M.O.S ranking, he is an S-Rank. Only five people in the entire Indravana Dominion can kill him. One of them is Vyaan Sahay."
A branch leader asked, "But he's old now… How would he—?"
Devashish interrupted smoothly.
"He is old, but his C.O.S.M.O.S is not. Three of those five S-Ranks are within C.O.S.M.O.S right now. The others belong to different dominions but will come if the Head of C.O.S.M.O.S commands it."
Samrat Rathore frowned.
"But the Order of Hammers forbids interference between Dominions."
Jai Singh Senapathi countered, "Yes. But C.O.S.M.O.S overrides that law. If the Head gives the order, no dominion—even the Hammer Order—can interfere."
Another branch head raised his voice, "So how do we get Vyaan Sahay to hear us?"
Jai Singh smiled sharply.
"He is searching for a successor. He recently conducted a selection. Our stronghold's child made it in. If that child reaches the top—and we must ensure it—then the entire C.O.S.M.O.S, including Vyaan Sahay, will belong to us."
He punched the air triumphantly.
The other stronghold heads shared irritated looks.
Devashish smirked internally.
Samrat thought, Just dream.
Varuna thought, My heir will take that title.
Jai Singh thought, Mine will rule C.O.S.M.O.S.
Their silent war of ambitions simmered beneath the surface.
Another question snapped them out of their fantasies.
"But didn't Rajendra's two sons also get into C.O.S.M.O.S?"
Devashish grimaced.
"That brat Vikram is one thing. But that other kid—where the hell was he until now?"
The man answered, "He lived as an outcast outside Dhruvansaar."
Devashish's eyes narrowed.
"How the hell did that fucker make him heir? No evidence, no background, nothing. Yet Rajendra just crowned him."
Varuna added, "Something is definitely wrong. All branch families—dig into this boy's past. I want every detail. We need to know how useful he'll be… in Rajendra's downfall."
Meanwhile, far from their whispers—
in a cave filled with the thunder of steel—
The air smelled of damp stone and the acrid musk of Interstellar rot.
Lightning-fast clashes echoed off the cavern walls. Not clumsy metal on metal—no, these were sharp, precise, lethal slices.
Michael.
Two short swords in hand. Eyes cold with utmost focus on his preys.
Movements controlled.
He was surrounded.
Five—no, now six—Gnarlfangs, D-Rank Interstellars.
Each creature was the size of a jeep, skin stretched tight over sinew and bone, their elongated snouts dripping acidic saliva. Yellow eyes glowed with a feral killing instinct.
They circled him, claws clicking on stone, growls vibrating the ground.
Michael didn't flinch.
The first Gnarlfang lunged—
terrible decision.
He stepped aside with lazy precision and unleashed a contemptuous right hook.
The beast flew across the cavern and smashed into the wall with a bone-cracking echo.
The remaining five hesitated.
Michael's lips curled into a faint, mocking smile.
"Hey. What are you waiting for?
Get started already."
A chorus of roars answered.
They charged.
And died.
To Michael, their movements were slow, predictable, sloppy. A tap here, a knee there, a punch that made ribs crack—he humiliated them before even bothering to draw blood.
One threw its head back and used Bone Howl—a mind-scrambling shriek.
It did nothing.
Another's claws vibrated with Frenzy Claw, its most lethal attack.
Still too slow.
Michael's pupils glowed silver.
"Void Eyes."
The world dimmed.
Time thinned.
Vital points lit up like bright pulses under their skin.
His blades moved—and the beasts never even realized they were dead.
Shing. Shing. Shing. Shing. Shing.
Five precise cuts.
Five collapsing bodies.
Silence.
Everything stopped except the drip of water and the echo of his dying footsteps.
Then—
A window popped up:
"Do you want to absorb the black essence (6/6)?
Accept / Decline"
Michael spat out breath.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? All this bloodshed is for black essence."
He pressed Yes.
And the rest?
Everyone already knew what came next.