Rivan Hale stood alone in the long hallway of the Hunter Testing Center, staring at the results flashing across the screen. The hologram buzzed faintly before displaying the ranking he already expected—but still hated.
[RANK: F]
Again.
Some hunters joked that no one had ever failed the test as consistently as he had. Others whispered that he was cursed, or that something inside him was "broken." Rivan ignored them as best as he could, but the words clung to him like a shadow.
He tightened the grip on his old gloves. They were worn, scratched, and stained from years of training that felt endless and hopeless.
"Rivan, that's your fifth retest this year," the examiner said, trying to sound gentle. "You're… just not showing any measurable combat potential."
Rivan forced a smile. "So nothing new?"
"Nothing at all."
He nodded and walked out. He didn't argue. Didn't complain. Complaining never changed anything.
Outside, hunters bustled across the wide plaza in their shiny armor and glowing weapons. They laughed loudly as they bragged about dungeon clears, rare drops, or their rising rankings. Their confidence made the air feel heavy.
Rivan walked through them unnoticed, like a ghost.
A loud vibration shook the street. A giant screen on a nearby building flared bright red.
[ALERT: D-Rank Gate Opening in Zone 17]
Hunters quickly gathered, and squads formed without hesitation. Even C-Rank teams seemed excited—D-Rank gates meant easy money and steady reputation.
Rivan watched them from a distance. He wanted to join, to help, to prove something—but the moment he approached, groups tightened their circles.
"Not him."
"Rank F will slow us down."
"We're not babysitting today."
Rivan pretended not to hear and turned away.
As he walked through the city's neural-glass streets, he passed a display of glowing weapons in a shop window. Swords with crackling mana veins. Daggers that shimmered in colors he didn't recognize. Weapons made for hunters far stronger than him.
He reached for the glass, but stopped just short of touching it.
Maybe… this path isn't for me.
He quickly pushed the thought away. He refused to give up. Even if the world kept telling him otherwise. Even if he had no impressive ranking, no flashy combat skills, no special powers.
He needed to get stronger.
For reasons no one else knew.
Rivan's hand instinctively brushed his chest where a faint scar hid beneath his shirt. A reminder. A promise he made long ago. Something he would never tell anyone until the time was right.
A sudden crack echoed through the sky.
Rivan snapped his head upward. A tear of swirling blue and black opened above the edge of the city—small, unstable, but definitely a gate. One that wasn't registered.
"An unannounced gate?" he muttered. "That shouldn't be possible."
Civilians screamed and ran. Hunters nearby alerted the Association. Panic spread quickly.
But something strange happened.
Rivan felt a pull.
A faint but unmistakable sensation in his chest, like something deep inside him recognized the swirling energy above. A memory he didn't understand flickered through his mind—flashes of a burning sky, a collapsing gate, a hand reaching toward him.
But he forced the images away.
Rivan had never been inside a dangerous gate. Yet the feeling clawed at him.
He stepped forward.
"Sir! Civilians stay back!" a guard shouted.
Rivan didn't move. His heartbeat quickened. His breath became shallow.
Why do I feel like… that place is calling me?
The gate pulsed brightly.
Hunters finally arrived, surrounding the zone. Elite C-Ranks and some B-Ranks moved in with practiced formation.
Rivan remained outside the barricade, staring at the swirling portal. A strange coldness washed over him. A whisper he couldn't quite hear.
Something is waiting…
Something is coming…
But before he could understand the sensation, the gate snapped shut—like it had never existed at all.
Hunters murmured in confusion. The Association scrambled to gather readings. People panicked further because unstable gates rarely simply vanish.
But Rivan didn't move.
He felt something new.
A sense of unease.
A sense of danger.
And somewhere beneath all of that…
A sense of fate.
He didn't know what it meant.
He didn't know what waited for him in the coming days.
But one thing was certain—
this was just the beginning