Apocalypse Baby

Light twisted.

Reality folded.

And then Alex landed—solid ground catching his boots with a muffled crunch.

He straightened slowly, his eyes adjusting to a surreal new landscape. The air here was colder. Thinner. Charged with a strange weight that clung to his skin like mist—dense, metallic, and laced with something he couldn't name.

Beneath his feet stretched an enormous bridge—not of stone or steel, but of pale crystal threaded with golden veins that pulsed with slow, steady light, like the breath of something divine. Each step shimmered faintly underfoot, echoing the sky above.

A sky that wasn't sky.

It was layered in a swirling canvas of gray clouds and deep blues, shifting like oil on water. High mountains flanked the bridge on either side, their jagged silhouettes wrapped in black mist. Thunder crackled somewhere in the distance, but no lightning fell.

The air stood still.

The atmosphere felt heavy—ancient.

Alex exhaled slowly, taking it all in.

Then, flashes of light appeared around him.

Other players began to arrive, teleporting in just as he had.

Including himself, there were eight in total.

The finalists.

They radiated power—raw, restrained, volatile. Each one had clawed their way through fire and fury to reach this final phase. And they looked the part.

As they appeared, they began to take in their surroundings and size each other up.

Alex's eyes flicked over them.

And he felt it—a pounding current under his skin, the torrent of energy he now carried. It surged as he met their gazes, his body trembling with something dangerously close to excitement.

He wanted to fight.

To prove himself.

To test his edge.

But he held back.

Now wasn't the time.

He tore his gaze away from the others and turned to survey the rest of the landscape.

The bridge stretched forward, ending at a monumental gate.

The gate floated above a vast chasm, larger than any fortress he'd ever seen. Two obsidian doors stood sealed, bound by celestial chains etched with radiant sigils that moved and turned like clockwork gears. Above them hovered an inscription—carved in light—in a language he didn't recognize.

Alex's heartbeat quickened.

He could feel it calling to him. Pulling at him.

His body trembled—not with fear, but anticipation.

He wanted in.

But then… something else caught his attention.

He turned, his gaze drifting toward the grandstands on either side of the bridge—vast, curved structures carved into the mountains like the seating of a coliseum built for gods.

And that was exactly who sat there.

No mortals. No spectators from earlier rounds.

These were different.

These were deities.

He didn't need anyone to explain. He felt it in the way the very air bowed around them. Their robes didn't just move—they bent the fabric of space. Their eyes glowed not with color, but with truth. Some bore halos. Others horns. A few shimmered like compressed constellations, barely holding human form.

Among them sat figures who weren't gods, but weren't far off either.

Their chosen.

Champions. High-level ascendants from distant domains, watching in silence. Studying the eight who stood on the bridge.

Alex swallowed.

Every breath he took felt heavier, like it carried weight. Judgment. He could feel the ancient eyes pressing into him, measuring him—calculating whether he was worth remembering... or worth forgetting.

Then—

He felt it.

A presence, unlike the rest.

Sharp. Dense. Terrifying.

His gaze was pulled upward, to the far end of the highest seat, just beneath the clouds.

There, seated casually on a throne of dark marble, was a man.

No divine light radiated from him. No aura of dominance screamed for attention.

And yet... he might as well have been the center of gravity.

His face was unreadable. Skin like pale porcelain cracked with gold. Dark hair tied loosely at the back. No crown. No weapon. Just him. Still. Silent. Sovereign.

Alex couldn't look at him for more than a second.

The instant their eyes met, something pierced through him.

He felt seen.

No—stripped bare.

Every secret, every title, every forbidden edge he'd taken...

Even the hesitation he still carried.

All of it, exposed.

His breath hitched. His heart began to hammer—loud, irregular, primal.

He yanked his gaze away and sucked in a shaky breath, cold sweat sliding down the side of his temple.

"What the hell was that..." he muttered under his breath.

He didn't know. But some part of him did.

That was the one who'd reprimanded the Oracle for twisting the rules. The one who had forcefully integrated a legacy trial into the tutorial.

A **Reigner**.

One of the beings behind the system.

The architects of the order.

Alex forced his focus back toward the Gate. Safer. It gave him something solid to hold onto.

But before his thoughts could stabilize, he heard footsteps approaching from behind.

He turned—and his expression softened slightly.

Adam.

He wore a simple black coat, his silver-blonde hair slicked back. His arms were folded. His eyes didn't glow—but they didn't need to. His very presence pressed against the space around him. Heavy. Controlled. Exact.

Adam grinned as he approached. But as soon as he got a proper look at Alex, his steps slowed.

His brows pulled together.

His jaw clenched.

Then he finally closed the distance.

When he spoke, his voice was calm—but edged.

"What did you do?"

Alex tilted his head slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face.

"What do you mean?"

Adam rephrased, slower this time.

"The lines. Your body. That glow. What happened to you?"

Alex raised his arm.

Energy pulsed beneath his skin—threads of light flickering like molten crystal. He stared at it for a moment, then answered with casual ease.

"I overloaded my core."

Adam's eyes widened. "What?!"

"I consumed a high-tier essence root," Alex said, as if discussing the weather. "A big one. Maybe too big. It nearly tore me apart. But I lived."

Adam blinked. His brain scrambled to process the words.

A high-tier root? Raw?

That wasn't possible. Essence roots had to be refined. Alchemized. Condensed. Direct absorption was suicide.

Unless—

No. That was insane. Even thinking it felt like heresy.

But then Adam froze. A thought surfaced—horrifying.

"Wait," he said slowly. "When you say you 'consumed' it… how exactly did you do that?"

Alex shrugged, utterly unfazed.

"I ate it."

Silence.

Adam's jaw dropped. His brain short-circuited.

"You… you *ate* it?"

He took a step back.

"Are you out of your damn mind?!"