Eight years.
That was how long it had been since the first Rift tore through the sky.
Seoul was unrecognizable now. The once-bustling streets were silent, lined with broken glass and rusted cars, their metal skeletons twisted by the monsters that had poured through dimensional gates.
Crumbling skyscrapers stood like gravestones of a world that no longer existed. Nature had begun to reclaim the ruins—creeping vines curled around broken buildings, while mutated birds nested in what remained of neon billboards.
Jin Seok-woo pulled his hood tighter against the cold wind. His boots crunched over cracked pavement as he walked the edges of the Crimson Maw, one of the oldest and most dangerous Rifts in South Korea. The Rift hovered above the ruins like an open wound in the sky—swirling, glowing, alive. Even from a distance, he could feel its pull, like the air itself trembled in fear.
Around him, Apostles gathered. Some were seasoned warriors clad in enchanted armor, their weapons glowing faintly with divine blessings.
Others were newly Chosen, their faces still painted with disbelief, excitement, or terror. Each bore the same mark: a glowing sigil on the back of their hand, proof of their pact with a god.
Jin Seok-woo had no mark.
He was a nobody.
The world had changed, and he had been left behind.
He watched as the Apostles prepared themselves, double-checking gear and chanting prayers to their divine patrons. The air was thick with tension. The Rift pulsed ominously, its colors shifting between shades of violet, crimson, and icy blue.
It was said no two Rifts were the same. Some led to endless plains, others to frozen oceans or volcanic mountains. Every Rift was a pocket world of its own, each more dangerous than the last.
Seok-woo swallowed the lump in his throat. He remembered the first time the sky had split. He remembered the screams. The blood. The monsters that tore through his neighborhood. The way his mother had—
He shook his head. Focus. Now wasn't the time for memories.
"Hey!" a voice barked, sharp and cruel.
Seok-woo turned. A tall Apostle in obsidian armor stalked toward him, shoving him roughly back. "This isn't a sightseeing tour, civilian. Get lost before you get yourself killed."
Laughter rippled through the gathered warriors.
Seok-woo said nothing. He lowered his head, his jaw tight. He stepped back, hands clenched into fists inside his worn gloves. It wasn't the first time he'd been shoved aside. It wouldn't be the last.
The Apostles didn't waste another glance on him. With practiced ease, they activated their systems—glyphs glowed, weapons shimmered, and one by one, they stepped into the yawning mouth of the Rift.
The swirling colors consumed them, leaving only silence and the flickering pulse of the portal.
He should have left.
But his feet wouldn't move.
A sharp wind howled through the empty street. Seok-woo felt his heart pounding in his chest—loud, desperate. His hands trembled, not from fear, but from something else. Something deeper. A need. A hunger.
He took a step forward.
Then another.
And before he could stop himself, he was running—straight into the Rift.
It felt like falling through liquid lightning.
Colors bled together—indigo, silver, deep violet. His senses stretched and twisted, until his feet finally hit solid ground. He staggered, gasping, as the world snapped into focus.
He stood in an open field under a blood-red sky. Distant mountains pierced the horizon, rivers of molten gold snaked between jagged cliffs, and strange, alien trees swayed in a wind that smelled of ash and iron.
He was inside the Rift.
Seok-woo's breath caught in his throat. He looked down at his hands, half-expecting them to dissolve. But he was whole. Alive.
Before he could fully comprehend what had happened, a voice—calm, mechanical, and impossibly clear—spoke directly into his mind.
[System Activation: Initiating Self-Design Protocol...]
[Warning: No divine administrator detected. Defaulting to independent evolution mode.]
[New System Host recognized: Jin Seok-woo.]
[Welcome, Apostle of None.]
A translucent blue window blinked into existence before his eyes. Rows of text and numbers scrolled rapidly before freezing into place:
---
Name: Jin Seok-woo
Title: Apostle of None
Level: 1
HP: 100/100
MP: 50/50
Strength: 5
Agility: 5
Vitality: 5
Intelligence: 5
Unassigned Points: 0
Unique Ability: [Self-Evolution] - All growth is self-determined. No external administrator. Potential: Unknown.
Seok-woo staggered back. "What…?" he whispered, breathless.
He had a System.
But… how? He hadn't made a pact. He had never been chosen. This wasn't supposed to be possible.
The mechanical voice returned:
[Mission: Survive. Clear the Rift. Ascend. Time remaining: 12 hours.]
A sharp growl rumbled in the distance. Hi
s heart leapt into his throat as the ground beneath him trembled.
The trial had already begun.