Thousands of years had passed since Michael shattered divinity and scattered the dungeons across the earth. Magic ruled everything, and those without power were left behind—discarded by a world that had no place for them.
Shin Riven lay on his worn-out bed, his body gaunt and fragile. Dirt smeared his face. Hunger hollowed his eyes. He looked like someone who hadn't eaten in weeks. The small room felt cold and suffocating.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Shin…" his mother's voice trembled.
He didn't answer.
She tried again, "Please, come out. I brought food."
"Go away," he muttered, voice barely audible.
She sighed and lingered a moment before retreating, clutching a small bowl.
Her mind drifted back to three years ago.
At fourteen, Shin stood with his parents inside the Hunter's Association.
Awakeners—those who could wield magic—were tested here, and those with the power became hunters, the protectors of humanity.
His mother spoke to the examiner. "My husband is a B-rank hunter. He's cleared five dungeons."
The examiner's eyes flickered over Shin. "Place his hand on the crystal sphere."
She gently guided Shin's hand to the glowing orb.
For a brief moment, a faint light flickered.
"But…" she frowned, "His mana is nearly nonexistent. Too weak to awaken fully."
Silence.
"No… he can't become a hunter."
Shin's chest tightened as the world collapsed around him.
Why? Why am I so weak?
His father's face remained stoic, but Shin saw the pain in his eyes.
They left the building in stunned silence.
On their way home, they were attacked by assassins.
His father fought fiercely to protect them but fell.
Since that day, Shin blamed himself.
If only I had power…
If only I could have protected them.
He was weak.
He was nothing.
Back in the present, his mother lingered by the door, fighting tears.
She placed the food on the floor and left.
Later that night, her new husband—Shin's stepfather—stormed into the room.
"Your real father was weak. Died like a coward," he sneered.
Shin clenched his fists.
"Shut up!" he yelled.
The man laughed cruelly and brought over Shin's younger half-brother, who giggled, unaware of the tension.
In a rage, Shin lunged, but the stepfather, an Awakener himself, struck him down with ease.
"Useless," the man spat. "Just like your father."
Shin fled into the dark streets.
His breath ragged.
Ahead, he saw her—a girl from his old school—cornered by delinquents.
Fear was etched across her face.
Shin hesitated.
What if I get hurt?
What if I die?
I don't want more pain.
The world was too cruel.
I'm tired. So tired.
But then a voice echoed in his mind—a memory of his father's words, clear as if spoken yesterday:
"If you run from who you are, you'll regret it more than any wound."
The words burned in his chest.
No.
He squared his shoulders.
He forced himself forward.
"Stop."
The delinquents laughed.
"What's this? A hero?"
Their attention snapped to him.
The girl slipped past, whispering, "Thank you."
Shin watched her go.
Then, the beating started.
Pain exploded through his body.
Each strike felt like fire ripping through his skin.
His breath came in ragged gasps.
His vision blurred.
I don't want this.
Please, make it stop.
But still, something inside refused to break.
A flicker of defiance.
He barely escaped.
He sprinted through an alleyway, heart pounding.
A fence blocked his path.
With no time to think, he jumped.
Behind the fence was a no-entry zone—an old district abandoned long ago.
Shin slipped into the shadows, but the delinquents pursued.
He ducked behind a dumpster, but one delinquent stepped close.
Panic surged.
He bolted again.
Ahead loomed a towering building—the entrance to a dungeon.
Hunters fought monsters inside.
Shin's breath caught.
He hesitated.
I don't want to die.
But his will was stronger.
I won't live like a dog anymore.
He entered.
The dungeon was cold, silent, and dark.
The air tasted heavy.
Shin's footsteps echoed as he descended through the floors.
First floor. Second. Tenth. Fiftieth.
On the hundredth floor, he discovered something strange.
The dungeon was cleared—empty.
Normally, dungeons vanished after clearing, but this one remained.
Confused, Shin decided it was time to return.
On the fiftieth floor, his pursuers caught up.
Delinquents wielding knives fought against human-sized ants—monsters native to the dungeon.
One delinquent spotted Shin.
"Hey, calm down! Help us fight!"
Shin hesitated.
Did they really want to change?
He nodded.
Together, they fought.
The knives were enough to kill the ants quickly.
But suddenly, one ant attacked a delinquent from behind.
That delinquent shoved Shin forward as a meat shield.
The ant bit Shin.
The delinquent laughed cruelly.
"At least you're worth something."
The ants swarmed him.
The battle raged on a narrow bridge high above a deep chasm.
Suddenly, the ants pushed Shin off.
He fell.
Darkness engulfed him.
Inside his mind, pain twisted and turned.
He saw a blurred vision—a little boy, alone in the rain, crying.
A shadow loomed.
You're worthless.
You'll never be anything.
Tears blurred his vision.
I'm so tired.
He gasped for breath.
I don't want to die.
But he was falling—falling forever into nothingness.
His body tumbled through the void.
Pain exploded in every bone.
But somewhere deep inside, a tiny spark refused to die.
A whisper.
Survive.