A/n: Before starting this chapter, I recommend checking out the auxiliary chapter for more details on the writing style, character alignment, story pacing, and the release schedule.
---
Friendly Reminder: Leave your morals at the door and enjoy the feast of wickedness!
***
Chapter 1: Scoundrels Die Hard
Dante Crowley crouched amidst the jagged remains of a collapsed concrete wall, his eyes scanning the horizon.
He was a "contractor" for God's Armed, an international private military corporation. His squad had been ghosting this derelict foreign city for days, waiting for the perfect moment to tear into an enemy supply convoy.
Dante was in his mid-twenties, sporting a face that was almost too clean-cut for a mercenary. But beneath the tactical gear was a frame forged in iron—massive, scarred, and built for violence.
Boredom was the real enemy out here. Dante glanced at the man beside him.
"Hey, John," Dante whispered. "Once we clear this contract and the wire hits, where are you headed to blow off some steam?"
John, a bearded brute of a man, let out a scoff. "Home. To my wife and kids. I'm not like you, kid. I don't spend my downtime drowning in a sea of cheap booze and cheaper women."
Dante let out a low, oily chuckle. "Can you blame me? Those Slavic girls... fuck, those tits and asses were sculpted by the devil himself, and they ride like they're trying to kill you. I could live between those thighs forever."
John rolled his eyes, his grip tightening on his rifle. "Keep living like that and you'll end up dead on top of some girl before you're thirty."
"Hey, what can I say?" Dante grinned. "If I'm gonna go out, I might as well go out with a bang in the arms of a—"
He cut himself off. A faint, high-pitched hum vibrated through the air. Dante snapped his gaze upward.
Drones.
Several of them were hovering directly above their position like mechanical vultures. They were exposed. In the meat-grinder of Bakhmut, these drones were the busiest messengers of the Grim Reaper.
Swoosh! Swoosh!
The drones didn't hesitate. They locked on and began dropping high-explosive payloads. At that speed and distance, there was no room to run.
A flash of ruthless clarity crossed Dante's face.
In a single, fluid motion, he lunged toward John. Instead of pushing him away, Dante grabbed the larger man by the vest and hauled him over his own body. He was using his "friend" as a human sandbag.
John's eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. He realized what Dante was doing a split second too late.
"Dante! I have a family! You son of a—!!"
BOOM!!
The roar of the explosion swallowed the curse. The world dissolved into a blinding white hellscape.
Dante felt the shockwave slam into his makeshift shield. 'Dammit,' he thought as he felt the heat searing his skin. 'High-yield explosives. This is gonna suck.'
The blast tore John's body to shreds in an instant. Dante, tucked beneath the gory remains, was swallowed by the fire a heartbeat later.
'Well, that's it for the bonus pay...'
That was the last thought that flickered through his mind before the dark took him.
***
Rumble... Rumble...
A piercing, mechanical grinding woke Dante from the void. He snapped his eyes open, his mercenary instincts screaming danger.
He scanned his surroundings instantly. Cramped quarters. Tight seats. Flickering red indicator lights.
Dante knew this vibration. He was in a helicopter cabin.
On the floor lay half a dozen civilians—men and women in everyday clothes—all unconscious.
"I was... rescued?" Dante muttered, his voice raspy. "I actually survived that blast?"
He felt his own limbs. Intact. "Hah! I guess it's true what they say—good men die young, but scoundrels like me die hard. Luck of the devil, I guess."
His relief was short-lived. A cold, majestic, and utterly inhuman voice echoed directly inside his skull:
[Candidate 952701]
[Welcome to the Evolution Space]
[Human evolution has been stagnant for too long. An extinction-level crisis is brewing in the shadows. The Evolution Space has been established to initiate the Second Evolution...]
[As a chosen 'Candidate,' you will be cast into the worlds of human fantasy in an endless cycle of trial and reincarnation.]
[Complete objectives to earn legendary abilities and weapons. This is your final chance to exist.]
[Will you perish in the cycle, or will you become the New God who leads humanity's ascent?]
[The choice is yours.]
The voice vanished, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Dante's mind was racing.
"Evolution Space? Reincarnation? Becoming a God?" He let out a dry, cynical bark of a laugh. "What kind of absolute bullshit is this?"
Just then, a red dot began pulsing in his field of vision, demanding attention. Dante focused on it. The dot expanded into a translucent grey screen, with lines of blood-red text bleeding into view:
[World: Predator (1987)]
[Level: Sci-Fi Tier 1]
[Type: Exploration & Survival]
[Primary Objective I]
March with Dutch's Squad to the guerrilla camp. You must remain within 100 meters of Major Dutch at all times.
[Reward: 200 Points]
(Note: Points are the sole currency of the Space. Used for Genome/Lineage upgrades, Skills, Attributes, and Gear.)
[Failure Penalty: OBLITERATION]
The word OBLITERATION was written in a font so jagged it seemed to leak actual blood.
Dante smacked his lips, a dark glint in his eyes. "So, the 'Evolution Space' is a bit of a dick, isn't it? Predator? Special forces vs. an alien pervert with a cloaking device?"
As a film buff, Dante knew the movie by heart. But as he began to calculate his survival odds, a sharp warning blared in his head:
[WARNING: 5 MINUTES TO DEPLOYMENT. PREPARE FOR INSERTION.]
A red countdown hit the screen: 04:59...
The alarm jolted the other civilians awake. A blonde man in an expensive suit bolted upright, screaming. "Where am I?! I was in a car wreck! Why am I not in a hospital?!"
Beside him, a woman in a low-cut dress shrieked, "Honey! I swear I wasn't cheating! Don't kill me!"
Panic flooded the cabin like a tide. Dante swept his gaze over them. Seven candidates. Four men, three women. Judging by their last memories, every one of them had already "died" back in the real world.
'Stealing souls before the Reaper can even get his scythe out?' Dante thought, chilled. 'Is this place a god, or just a very high-tech version of Hell?'
The countdown hit the halfway mark. The others were still screaming, useless and loud. Dante sneered inwardly. 'Hmph. Give 'em a second life and they spend it crying. At this rate, they'll be checking back into the afterlife before the hour is up.'
A girl in office attire with thick glasses suddenly stood up, shouting over the din. "Everyone, shut up! Listen to the voice in your heads!"
"Voice? What voice?" The others looked at her like she was insane, but as the cabin went quiet, they felt it too. They saw the screens.
"Evolution Space?"
"Predator?"
"Obliteration?! Is this some sick reality TV prank?!"
No one wanted to believe it. But reality didn't care about their belief. The countdown hit zero.
CLANG!
The helicopter's side door slid open with a violent hiss, revealing a vast, humid canopy of tropical rainforest below.
The cold voice returned for its final decree:
[PROTECTION PERIOD EXPIRED.]
[THE TRIAL HAS BEGUN.]
[All candidates must rendezvous with Dutch's squad immediately. Anyone exceeding 100 meters from Major Dutch will be OBLITERATED...]
[Image: Dante Crowley]
***
***
***
Author's Note: I'm back with a brand new story! I have high expectations for this one, and I genuinely believe you're going to enjoy the read. Following Dante's adventures will finally offer you the breath of fresh air you've been looking for in a story.
Also, don't hesitate to share your thoughts, expectations, or suggestions. Whether it's your take on the MC or ideas about the worlds and characters in these worlds. I read every single one of them.
So, please, don't forget to leave a comment, add the story to your Library, and hand over your GODDAMN Power Stones!