Humanity does not move forward because of hope.
It moves forward because it no longer has a choice.
In the year 314 of the Era of the Forge, despair took a tangible form. It was called the Oculus of Eden — an artifact said to bend reality itself, to cure the incurable, to repair the irreparable, to grant anyone the power to tear their fate from the hands of the world.
Officially, it was a miracle.
Unofficially, it was a harvest.
Fourteen Houses.
Ninety-eight candidates.
Three hundred and fourteen days.
Not to crown a champion — but to transform human beings into living weapons. The Masters of the Forge did not seek glory. They sought market value.
In a hospital room where the scent of antiseptic nearly suffocated the air, Kyo Kagami held his sister's hand. The machines emitted a steady, merciless beep. Mio looked lighter than the sheets covering her, fragile like glass stretched too thin.
She slowly opened her eyes and gave him a smile so gentle it hurt.
"Big brother… are you crying?"
Kyo turned his head, wiping his face with an awkward swipe.
"Don't be stupid. I'm sweating."
A terrible lie. She knew it. So did he.
"Come back soon…" she whispered.
He simply nodded. He made no promise. Promises are fragile things. They break too easily.
But inside his chest, a sentence burned like a coal swallowed too soon:
I will come back with the Oculus. Even if I have to burn my hands to seize it.
Hours later, he crossed the monumental gates of the Masters of the Forge complex. The building towered over the city like a god of steel and polished marble. Giant holographic screens projected the faces of registered candidates alongside betting odds and statistics.
Money. Power. Prestige.
Everything radiated arrogance.
Kyo saw none of it.
"I WANT THE OCULUS!" he shouted. "GIVE ME THE FORM!"
A cold laugh sliced through the hall.
Ren Nakamura stepped forward, wrapped in a white silk scarf. Behind him, the Scepter of Thunder crackled with electric blue light.
"You reek of poverty, kid. Your sister is already doomed. Don't stain the arena floor with your desperation."
The kick was sharp. Kyo slammed against the marble under muffled laughter. The humiliation burned hotter than the pain.
Then the air changed.
Heavy. Silent.
Haruto Kurosawa approached, hands in his pockets, eyes barely lifted.
"A man's worth isn't measured by inheritance, Nakamura."
His voice was calm. Almost gentle.
"It's measured by how long he survives."
For a brief second, Ren's fingers trembled around his scepter. Then he stepped back.
"Tch. See you at the Blood Gate."
The Blood Gate lived up to its name.
The arena resembled a futuristic coliseum. Sand stretched wide and patient beneath floating silver drones whose red lenses broadcast every breath to the world. Massive screens displayed health bars, statistics, betting lines.
The world was watching.
The world was paying.
The first fight was swift.
Ren raised his scepter. Lightning fell. His opponent collapsed before realizing he had already lost.
The screens erupted with numbers.
+2 points.
Then came Noahi Kuretsuna.
She activated no weapon. She simply walked toward her opponent — a boy named Zale whose hands were already shaking.
"Why is your heart beating so fast?" she asked softly.
He stepped back.
"Is it fear of dying… or fear of being forgotten?"
Her gaze locked into his like an endless drop.
"If your name disappears today… who will come looking for it?"
Zale's knees gave out. His mind cracked before his body did. He collapsed, paralyzed by a terror no blade could have inflicted.
Noahi won without spilling a single drop of blood.
"Next match: Kyo Kagami versus Jiro!"
Jiro activated his Mobile Iron Shield with a metallic roar.
"You can't touch me, idiot."
Kyo heard only Mio's voice in his memory.
"MY SISTER IS GOING TO BE HEALED!"
He charged.
Too fast.
His foot slipped on water left from a previous fight. He spun wildly, crashed into the wall, and his Twin Fangs split apart with a metallic screech. One blade flew across the arena and jammed into the internal mechanism of Jiro's shield.
A grinding noise.
A spark.
BOOM.
The shield exploded in a shower of sparks.
When the dust settled, Kyo lay face-first in the sand. He raised a trembling thumb.
"I… totally planned that."
The stands burst into laughter.
But the screens were mercilessly clear:
Kyo Kagami +2.
The final match pitted Haruto against a massive man named Goro. The giant axe came down with the force of an earthquake. Haruto tilted his head a few degrees. The blade brushed past his ear with a deadly hiss.
"Slow," he murmured.
His fingers struck three precise points on Goro's chest. He had already turned away.
"Checkmate."
He snapped his fingers.
Violet explosions ripped through the air. Goro was hurled into the ceiling before crashing heavily into the sand.
High above the arena, in a private lounge, Lord Valerius watched the screens with a calculating smile. Beside him, Dr. Xylos adjusted his glasses.
"Subject Kagami's unpredictability increases the Twin Fangs' market value by over two hundred percent."
Valerius folded his hands.
"Continue the harvest."
Deep within the complex, confiscated weapons vibrated inside glass chambers, pulsing faintly like artificial hearts.
Above the arena, the initial ranking illuminated the night sky.
Ninety-eight glowing names.
Some already crossed out.
The tournament had begun.
And in the silence that followed the cheers, an invisible truth settled over the arena:
There would not be ninety-eight survivors on Day 314.
The harvest was open..