Before the apocalypse, before the ranks, before the System swallowed their reality whole—Lian was just another wandering drifter on the edge of obscurity.
The world was normal then. Or so it pretended to be.
He remembered the moment everything changed.
It was raining that day. Heavy, uncaring skies drowning a rusted city in gloom. Lian had been riding his beat-up scooter—something so weak compared to the ironclad monster-cycle he now rode—delivering ramen to a corner shop with flickering lights. A war veteran had opened the door.
"You've got sharp eyes, kid," the old man had said. "Ever think the world is about to go to hell?"
Lian had laughed then. "If it does, I hope it pays me for the delivery."
But there was something about the way the old man looked at him. Pity. Resignation. Fear.
A week later, the System descended.
---
> [System Initialization Complete.]
[Survivor Potential: 0.9%]
[You have been granted a starting vehicle: Broken Scooter.]
[You have been granted a random talent: Coin Multiplier (C-Rank).]
That was the start. The start of everything.
He'd been abandoned during the first World Collapse. Betrayed. Shot. Trapped under rubble as friends screamed in terror and beasts descended. It was during those moments—pinned, powerless, and burning—that something awakened in him:
A refusal to die.
Even back then, with a useless vehicle and an obscure talent, he refused.
He made that scooter into a death trap. Welded scrap metal, reinforced it with armor plates torn off drones. Fought and survived. Again and again.
He remembered the first time he killed a mutated wolf the size of a tank. He'd run it over while spinning coins like shurikens, grinning like a lunatic.
He remembered meeting Demist—a bounty hunter with nothing left to protect.
He remembered saving Alya, who had tried to sacrifice herself in the second world to slow down a hellfire warden.
He remembered Jayce, the comedy-driven survivor with the Golden Ice Cream Truck, and how his jokes made them laugh even when everything was burning.
He remembered every loss. Every scream. Every time a System notification reminded him how cruel fate could be.
---
Back to Now.
Lian opened his eyes.
The battlefield smoldered. The boss was dead—but not gone. Its corpse twitched, even as black steam rose from its chest.
"Phase Four's starting," Jin whispered. "And this time… I didn't see anything in the future. It's blank."
Lian looked at him. "Then we make our own ending."
The others gathered. Alya's soul-burn had left her pale and shaky. Demist's armor was cracked. Even Jayce's jokes had stopped—his usual smile replaced with grim silence.
But they were still breathing.
Then, the sky shattered.
Not cracked—shattered.
From above, the very heavens tore open. A burning city descended. Floating, broken, inverted—like someone had ripped a nightmare from another world and glued it into theirs. Screams echoed. Buildings floated like corpses in an ocean of flame.
> [World Shift: Demonic Invasion Layered Merge – Triggered.]
[Final Phase: Hell Ascension. The Sixth Death is not the end.]
[Warning: This entity now evolves in real-time.]
The boss's corpse convulsed and then exploded. In its place rose something not bound by flesh—a creature of shadow and flame, crowned with horns and dripping with molten despair.
It had no name. Only a title.
> [Boss Identity Updated: The Sixth Grave.]
[Immortality Delay – Shattered. It must now be sealed.]
And yet…
Lian smiled.
"I don't care how many times you come back," he whispered, spinning a coin between his fingers. "We're not the same people we were at the start."
Demist cracked his neck.
Alya raised her hand, glyphs swirling.
Jayce finally smiled again.
Jin closed his eyes. "I think... I've finally reached the end of all my visions."
Together, they charged.
---
To be continued in Chapter 73…