The year the monsters arrived, the sky didn't break or burn.
It simply opened.
Black fractures spread across the clouds like shattered glass, and from those cracks fell creatures humanity had no names for—only screams. Cities burned within hours. Armies failed within days. Humanity stood at the edge of extinction.
And then… some humans changed.
They were called Awakened—people born with strange marks on their bodies, glowing symbols, or eyes that shimmered unnaturally. They wielded fire, steel, lightning, shadows, gravity—powers strong enough to tear monsters apart.
The world survived because of them.
To control the chaos, the Global Defense Authority created a ranking system, measuring mana output, combat ability, and potential.
SSS+ Rank – Living disasters. Gods among humans.
SSS Rank – World-level defenders.
SS, S, A, B, C, D, E
F Rank – Barely Awakened. Almost powerless.
And below F Rank?
People like me.
We were called Rankless.
I stood at the edge of the testing hall, hands clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms.
One by one, people my age stepped forward, placing their hands on the glowing crystal sphere. The orb reacted instantly—flashing colors, cracking the air with pressure, projecting numbers into the sky.
"A-Rank!" "B-Rank!" "S-Rank—unbelievable!"
Cheers erupted. Cameras flashed. Careers were decided in seconds.
I swallowed.
I had trained my body every single day since I was twelve. Running until my lungs burned. Fighting instructors who laughed at me. Studying monster anatomy like it was scripture.
But none of that mattered here.
Only power did.
"Next," the examiner called coldly. "Kai Arlen."
The room went quiet.
I stepped forward and placed my hand on the crystal.
Nothing happened.
No glow.
No pressure.
No number.
The crystal stayed dark.
A murmur spread through the hall.
"…Another one." "Rankless." "Why did he even show up?"
The examiner sighed and pulled my hand away. "No mana response. No awakening mark. Subject is Unranked."
I already knew.
Still, hearing it out loud hurt more than any punch I'd ever taken.
"Unranked?" someone laughed behind me. "That's worse than F!"
The examiner looked straight at me. "You are not eligible for combat academies. You may apply for evacuation logistics, research assistance, or—"
"I want to be a Hunter."
The room froze.
The examiner stared at me. "Repeat that."
"I want to join the Hunter Program," I said, my voice steady even though my heart was pounding. "I want to fight monsters."
Laughter exploded around me.
"Without powers?" "He'll die in his first gate!" "This isn't a game!"
The examiner's eyes hardened. "The Hunter Program is for the Awakened. This world doesn't run on courage anymore. It runs on power."
I lifted my head.
"Then why," I asked quietly, "do people still die?"
Silence.
"If power was enough," I continued, "my parents would still be alive. My city wouldn't be a ruin. And SSS-Rank heroes wouldn't still be losing territory every year."
The examiner clenched his jaw.
"Dismissed," he snapped. "You are done here."
I turned to leave.
That was when the alarm screamed.
Red lights flooded the hall. A deep, mechanical voice echoed through the city.
⚠️ GATE BREACH DETECTED
⚠️ THREAT LEVEL: S
⚠️ LOCATION: TESTING DISTRICT
The ground shook.
A black rift tore open in the air outside, spilling twisted creatures of bone and chitin. Screams filled the streets as civilians scattered.
Hunters rushed forward—A-Ranks, S-Ranks—drawing glowing weapons, activating abilities.
I stood frozen at the door.
A Hunter beside me scoffed. "Stay back, Rankless. You'd just get in the way."
I watched as the first monster lunged—too fast.
The Hunter didn't react in time.
My body moved before my fear could stop it.
I grabbed a fallen steel rod, sprinted forward, and slammed it into the monster's exposed joint—exactly where the anatomy manuals said it was weakest.
The creature shrieked.
Not dead—but slowed.
Long enough.
An S-Rank Hunter erased it in a wave of fire.
Everyone stared at me.
I stood there, breathing hard, blood on my hands—not mine.
The examiner's eyes locked onto me.
I met his gaze and said the only truth I had.
"I don't need power to fight."
He hesitated.
Then, against every rule ever written, he spoke.
"…There is one program."
My heart skipped.
"A suicide track," he continued. "Experimental. No rankings. No guarantees. Mortality rate above eighty percent."
I didn't hesitate.
"I'll take it."
Somewhere deep beneath the city, something ancient stirred—as if the world itself had noticed the boy who refused to stay weak.
And for the first time since the monsters arrived…
I stepped forward.