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Everything... was a mistake.
The world... no, what remained of it, no longer resembled anything humanity knew. There was no sun. No night. Only gray shadows swallowing the sky, and an unyielding black fog. The blood had dried on the ground, but it hadn't disappeared—instead, it had turned into cracked patterns covering everything: the stones, the trees, even the nameless corpses of the dead.
From above, a giant fissure split the sky in two, its edges pulsing with corrupted mana waves, threatening to devour all existence in a vortex of absurdity.
Ice covered the mountains, and ash rained from the sky instead of snow.
At the heart of the ruin stood the Fragment of the Thousand Covenant—a colossal celestial pillar erupting from the earth's core, driving its spirit into the heavens. Around it, hundreds of corpses were piled unnaturally, as though they had been protecting it.
And amidst the wreckage, sat a single man.
No right arm. No left leg. His face was disfigured, his breaths ragged. Yet his eyes remained open, staring into nothingness.
Before his eyes, memories of a lifetime of suffering merged: the wars, the betrayals, the losses, the impossible choices.
His body burned from within—his Synchronization system was collapsing. Every additional moment of staying alive was like a sword slowly, painfully, tearing through his heart.
[...Yes. You are the only one left.]
His inner voice trembled with a deep echo, as though memory itself was devouring his mind.
[But everything you did was meaningless.]
[You cannot escape me.]
[I am you... in the end.]
He spat blood, but didn't blink. Instead, his eyes welled with tears—tears without tears.
"No."
"If I'm still here... then it's not over yet."
"There's still one thing left to do."
He stood.
It was impossible—physically, logically. But rage alone made him rise. His Synchronization had reached 100%. The Rewriting had begun.
He raised his head toward the fractured sky and roared, his voice tearing through the fog:
"If you are the end of this world..."
"Then I am your end."
"I am... the Sovereign of All Evil."
"I... will rewrite the sins you have committed, O World."
As his voice split the heavens, a dark wave of mana exploded around him. The world trembled. Time froze for an instant. Then—a flash.
And then... nothing.
...
"Ah—!"
The boy woke up gasping.
His chest heaved wildly, and sweat had drenched his pillow to the point of bursting.
He rubbed his eyes, confused.
"What the hell was that?"
He looked around. His small room, dim lights, the tightly shut window.
A long sigh.
On the screen across from him, the title screen of *Wrath of Death* was replaying in an endless loop.
"Was it the game's influence? Or did I overdo it with the novels before bed?"
He scratched his head wearily.
"Sovereign of All Evil? What kind of nonsense is that?"
"Even teenage manga characters would cringe at a title like that."
He laughed mockingly.
But when he stood in front of the mirror, he froze for a moment. There was nothing different... or so he tried to convince himself.
"Just a dream... only a dream."
Yet he didn't realize the clock read 4:59 AM.
And he didn't know that the next hour... would not be just another ordinary day.