People were screaming—some crying, others shouting into their phones. The streets had gone mad. It was as if the sky itself had cracked open and vomited out the end of the world. Gates—those dreadful, pulsing things—were appearing everywhere. Not just one or two. Not just hundreds. Millions. The sky shimmered with their eerie glow, floating like cursed stars over cities and villages alike.
"Yo, yo... come look—who the hell is that on the ground?"
"Huh? Where?"
"That's Mr. Damon," one of the boys said, frowning as he jogged over.
The speaker, a teenager named Theo, crouched down beside the unconscious man. His friend, Malik, followed, both of them breathless, both looking scared and out of place in the chaos.
They dragged Damon off the open pavement and propped him against the thick trunk of a nearby tree. Leaves fluttered down like feathers.
"Hey. Mister? Can you hear me?" Malik slapped his cheek lightly, but Damon didn't budge. Still, his chest rose and fell. Barely.
Theo pressed his ear to Damon's chest. "He's breathing. His heart's still beating. Kinda fast, though."
Malik's eyes narrowed. "Yo... look at his neck."
Theo leaned forward. "What the hell...?"
The skin at the back of Damon's neck was covered in strange, bulbous welts. Not quite boils. Not quite anything they'd seen before. Big. Pulsing. Glossy like stretched plastic and humming faintly. It made Theo's stomach twist.
"Shit. That's bad. That's really bad. Bro, call the damn ambulance—now!"
---
Inside the Gate.
The air shifted—sharper, colder, heavier. A silence fell like a blade.
The beast lunged.
In a flash, a sword caught its neck before it could reach Rayden.
Steel against flesh. SLASH.
Captain Vayne stood between Rayden and the monster, eyes steady, his coat whipping with the rush of energy the beast gave off. Rayden stumbled back, eyes wide, chest heaving.
"Th–that was too close," he muttered under his breath, trying to steady the shaking in his legs. His vision swam. 'Too fast. I couldn't even see it.'
"You alright, kid?" Vayne asked, not looking at him. His voice was calm, but the tension in his jaw said he wasn't relaxed.
Rayden nodded slowly, though the fear was plain in his eyes.
"Next time, keep your head straight."
Suddenly, a roar shattered the brief stillness. "AAARRGHHH!"
Rayden felt something crawl through his chest—instinct, panic, something older than fear. Everything else muted. Just silence and breath.
"This... this isn't a C-rank dungeon, sir," said a young hunter named Juro, gripping the hilt of his sword so tight his knuckles had gone white.
Rayden stared into the darkness ahead. His body tensed. 'Why do I feel like something terrible is coming…?'
"Everyone, take positions!" Vayne's voice rang through the hall.
The team moved. Seventeen hunters total, spread thin. The tunnel wind howled, dragging dust and heat with it.
Rayden stood frozen, teeth clenched. Luna stepped close and tugged his arm gently.
"Hey. Hunters are brave," she whispered near his ear. "Be bold, okay? You're not alone. We'll make it through."
"But… there's just sixteen of us. What if—?"
"That's enough," she said, calm but firm.
"AAARRGHH!"
Rayden's breath caught. 'It's coming.'
From the tunnel's mouth, the creature emerged.
A hulking, grey beast covered in thick scales that shimmered with mucus. Long arms dragging, body hunched forward, a maw that dripped acid between jagged teeth.
Rayden's voice cracked. "What the hell is that?!"
Luna's eyes narrowed. "That's a Spittle Lizard. It spits acid strong enough to melt armor. Don't get hit."
Vayne scowled. 'Damn it. One wrong step and we're gone.'
"Bren! Light it up!"
The mage, a lean man with red tattoos on his arms, threw his hand forward. Fire exploded in his palm, forming a blazing orb. He launched it toward the monster.
But the beast blurred. A shadow in motion.
'It's fast… but not faster than me.' Vayne vanished into the rush.
His blade came from above, a streak of silver. He landed behind the beast.
'You're fast—but not clever. Your agility's sloppy.'
He struck at its leg.
But before the blade could land, the beast twitched. Barely. Its limb bent unnaturally, like it had read his move. Vayne's blade missed by inches.
'It moved? It tracked me? No…'
Vayne leapt back, face tightening.
'This isn't a C-rank. No way in hell.'
"Everyone! Hit it! Now!"
Blades flashed. Magic surged.
The hunters attacked from every angle. Swords clashed against hard hide. SLASH. SLASH. BOOM.
The beast retaliated. It knocked back two hunters like they were paper.
Then it turned and with one whip of its sharp arm, it struck Vayne. The captain flew into the tunnel wall. CRACK.
Dust exploded. Blood hit the ground.
"Captain!" Juro shouted, eyes wide.
Luna knelt beside Vayne quickly. "Hold on—just breathe."
She pressed her glowing hands over his ribs. Light poured from her fingers into his chest. His breathing slowed.
Vayne pushed himself up, wincing. "I'm ending this. Now."
He stepped forward, limping. Then he vanished again. Faster this time.
He rose high in the air, his blade gleaming, and summoned a C-rank relic sword—long, dark steel, humming with runes. He came down like a storm and stabbed the beast's eye.
"AAARRGHH!"
Blood burst. The creature screamed. Vayne growled through his teeth, "You ugly bastard—DIE!"
He yanked the sword out and vanished again.
A second flash—then the blade sliced through the creature's neck.
SPLASH.
The head fell. The body followed with a heavy thud.
Vayne stood still. Breathing hard. Covered in blood. His expression unreadable—somewhere between fury and exhaustion. His chest heaved, but he said nothing.
Rayden watched from behind, stunned. His throat dry.
'He's really strong. His strength… it's way above that thing. The way he moves… like the wind. No wonder he's the captain.'
"That should be the boss," Vayne finally said, his voice rough. "We're leaving. Before the gate seals."
"Yes, sir."
The hunters turned and walked toward the dungeon's mouth. The world outside pulled them in—hot air, the hum of reality.
The gate behind them sealed with a quiet, final hiss.
---
Outside, in the city.
"Sir—sir! We've confirmed it. The gates… they're still appearing. It's chaos. We've counted over ten million."
Guild Master Renn of the Eastern Division stared at the screen, eyes hollow.
"Ten million…? That's impossible."
He rubbed his face with both hands, voice hoarse.
"We can't handle this alone. Tell the Hunter Association—get them on the line. Now."
'This time… something's different.'
Rayden walked in silence, his thoughts louder than the footsteps crunching on gravel beneath his boots. His fingers twitched at his side, still remembering the way the dungeon pulsed with strange, ancient symbols. They weren't just designs… they meant something. And for a second back there, just a second, he felt like they were trying to speak to him.
'The dungeon's too tight... Those markings, what were they really? I should've stayed longer—looked closer.'
"Hey, kid!" Vayne's voice snapped through his thoughts.
Rayden blinked.
"Don't drift. Let's move." The man's hand waved him forward.
He nodded quickly, catching up with the squad as they approached another Gate. This one stood like a black scar across the air, just outside the ruins of old Kastel City—its edges shimmering with violent energy.
Meanwhile, miles away, under cold hospital lights…
"Damon… please, wake up," Aelina whispered. Her voice cracked.
She sat beside the bed, pale hands trembling as they held her husband's wrist. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor gave her no comfort. Damon lay still—his face was pale, lips cracked, and the flesh around his neck had turned a sickly purple, stretched and bubbled like something rotting from the inside.
The nurse entered with a man in a white coat. The doctor looked grim. "Ma'am," he said gently, "your husband may've been bitten. Or scratched by something poisonous. The infection spread fast."
Aelina's eyes didn't leave Damon. She already knew.
"We suspect it's Blackvenom Syndrome. It's a rare, aggressive toxin—carried by some high-tier beasts. His body's shutting down."
She didn't scream. Didn't cry. Just sat there.
Then she stood up and walked out.
Not a word, nor a sound.
Her shadow followed her out of the hospital and into the street. She didn't stop until she reached the door of her old home. It had been years since she touched her armor. Fifteen years, to be exact. Fifteen years since her first son dies. That time, too, it was a beast.
She walked to the back room. Unlocked the chest. Brushed her fingers over the golden A-rank armor. The shoulder plates still bore the insignia of the Shadow Division. She strapped it on, piece by piece, not flinching at the weight. It felt familiar. Like pain you get used to.
She walked back out into the dark, eyes burning like fire.
---
Back near the Gate, Rayden stood awkwardly while the other hunters prepared their gear.
"You're the only E-rank among us," Vayne said, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.
Rayden looked up, unsure if he was being mocked or praised.
But Vayne grinned, teeth crooked, eyes kind. "You're still a hunter. That counts."
For a second, Rayden forgot to breathe. He blinked. "You… called me a hunter?"
"Did I stutter?" Vayne chuckled and ruffled his hair like he was ten years old. "Don't let it get to your head though."
Rayden tried to smile, but something inside him twisted. He could still hear the roar of that last beast. Still see the captain bleeding. He didn't know if he belonged here. He was scared.
But then he clenched his fist.
'I said I'd do this. If I run now, I'll never forgive myself.'
He looked Vayne in the eyes. "I want to walk with you."
Vayne raised a brow. "You sure, kid? You might die, y'know."
"I know," Rayden said. His voice shook, but it didn't break. "Even if I'm weak. Even if I've got no power… I'll work hard. I'll give it everything I have."
For a second, no one spoke.
Then someone—Juno, the redhead with a wild temper—let out a low whistle.
"Damn."
Luna smiled, soft and proud. She didn't say much, but she leaned closer to him and whispered, "That's what I'm talking about."
Vayne crouched and pulled a blade from his bag. It wasn't much—just a solid D-rank sword, the handle worn, the edge chipped—but it was still sharper than hope. He handed it over.
Rayden took it like it weighed a hundred pounds.
"Here," Vayne said. "Keep this close. And remember—nothing's stronger than a hunter who refuses to give up. Power fades. Skill can rust. But the will to stand when you should fall? That's what keeps us alive."
Rayden swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
They turned toward the Gate. It shimmered like a wound refusing to close.
"Sir," Rayden asked, trying not to shake, "what rank is this Gate?"
Vayne glanced back with a crooked smirk. "A-rank."
Rayden froze.
"What?!" His voice cracked. "Are you serious?!"
Vayne burst into laughter, slapping his own leg. "Nah, just kidding. I don't have a damn clue."
Rayden blinked.
"Come on," Vayne said, grinning. "Let's go find out."
And they stepped toward the gate, blades drawn and hearts thudding, unsure if they'd come back out.