The multiverse was falling apart. Timelines collapsed as heroes fell and worlds turned to ruin. In the midst of this chaos, two ancient forces awoke.
Alaya, the collective will of humanity, whispered through every human dream. Gaia, the living spirit of the Earth, rumbled from the planet's core. They needed a champion—not a distant god or an unfeeling machine, but a true guardian.
They chose Lee Hyejun.
He was a young man of twenty, with a quiet life in Seoul. He practiced martial arts and studied old scrolls, always feeling a restless pull toward other worlds, like a dream he could almost remember.
One evening, in his small apartment, the pact was made. The world around him tore away. In the blinding light, two voices spoke to him.
"We are the weavers," Alaya said. Will you defend humanity?
"We are the roots," Gaia growled. Will you be the world's shield?
Hyejun's heart raced, but his mind was clear. "Yes," he answered.
Power flooded into him. He gained instant mastery over any skill he attempted. But the true change was the Heavenly Restriction—a seal that traded all magical energy for a perfect, physical form.
His body transformed. He grew to 5'11, his muscles becoming dense and powerful. His senses sharpened to superhuman levels. As a final, whimsical touch of the pact, his manhood swelled to a godlike proportion, a promise of overwhelming intimacy for a future partner.
In a flash, he was gone from his apartment. He found himself standing before the gates of Fujimi Academy in Tokonosu City. The air was warm, and cherry blossoms drifted on the breeze. The pact had subtly aged him to blend in with the college-aged students.
Dressed in a black jacket and jeans, Hyejun stood out. His dark hair was slightly messy, and his intense eyes were framed by a small, captivating mole beneath the left one.
The knowledge of his mission settled in his mind. This was the world of Highschool of the Dead, a story on the brink of a zombie apocalypse. His purpose was not to conquer but to mend. He would save who he could and form genuine bonds, letting relationships grow naturally from trust and shared struggle.
- - - - -
Hyejun walked onto the gravel path, his body humming with power. The two voices in his mind faded, leaving him with a final command: Begin.
He scanned the busy school grounds. His enhanced vision picked out the key figures immediately.
Takashi Komuro argued with Rei Miyamoto, her orange ponytail swinging. Nearby, Saeko Busujima moved with a quiet grace, a wooden practice sword at her side. Through a window, he saw Shizuka Marikawa, the nurse, her cheerful demeanor clouded with worry.
A scream shattered the calm. At the gate, a teacher staggered, his arm mangled. He lunged and bit a student, tearing into flesh. Panic erupted.
Hyejun moved without thinking. He ripped a metal pole from a fence. His new proficiency made it feel like an extension of his own body. He swung, and the pole connected with the infected teacher's skull with a sickening crunch. The man fell, his head caved in.
"Get behind me!" Hyejun's voice was calm and commanding.
Rei Miyamoto stared, frozen. She had just seen the teacher bite someone, and now this stranger had ended the threat with brutal efficiency. He was tall and moved with an untamed power, but the mole under his eye made him strangely approachable.
"Who are you?" she stammered.
"Lee Hyejun," he said, his voice steady. He looked at the spear in her hands. "Breathe, Rei. That weapon suits you. We'll need it. Now, inside."
The way he said her name sent a shiver through her—not of fear, but of something warmer.
As they ran for the building, Saeko Busujima appeared from a side hall. Her bokken sliced through the air, cleanly severing an infected student's arm. Her violet eyes locked onto Hyejun.
"You're not a student here," she stated.
Another zombie lurched toward her. Hyejun flew to her side, his pole hooking under its jaw with a brutal crack of bone. "And you are no bystander, Saeko Busujima. Your skill is lethal. Take the left flank; I'll take the center."
A faint flush touched her cheeks. He knew her, not just her reputation.
They fought back-to-back for a moment, a spark of mutual respect passing between them.
The group burst into the nurse's office. Shizuka Marikawa was frantically searching through supplies, her eyes wide with panic.
"S-students? What's happening? The biting… it's spreading!"
Hyejun was the last one in. He smoothly barricaded the door with a heavy desk.
"Miss Marikawa—Shizuka. Look at me," he said, his tone grounding. "We need meds, water, and food from the fridge. Panic later."
She blinked, his calmness cutting through her fear. "You know my name? You're so… steady."
"Details hold the world together," he said, helping her gather supplies. "And you're the one who mends the breaks. We make a good team."
His hand brushed hers, and a warm, comforting feeling steadied her.
- - - - -
The barricade held as the chaos outside grew. The group inside began to form: Takashi worked on reinforcing the door, Rei sharpened her spear, and Saeko sat in quiet meditation.
Saya Takagi rushed in, her pink hair messy and her glasses crooked. "What's going on? Who is this guy playing hero?"
Hyejun turned from the window. "Lee Hyejun. And you are Saya Takagi. Your mind is already analyzing this, isn't it? Looking for patterns in the virus."
She huffed, her cheeks turning pink. "Don't act like you know me." But his perceptive comment had cracked her defensive shell.
As night fell, they huddled together, sharing food and making plans. Hyejun sat slightly apart, feeling the hum of the pact within him.
Rei approached and sat beside him. Her shoulder lightly brushed against his.
"You noticed my spear," she said softly. "No one ever does. You made it feel important."
He looked at her, his dark eyes sincere. "It is important. You're not just surviving; you're fighting with grace. That's rare. And beautiful."
It wasn't a grand speech, just the truth. She leaned closer, and her hand found his. Outside, the groans of the undead grew louder. But inside, something new had begun.
The world was breaking, but with Hyejun there, a new story was being woven.
(To be Continued)