The next morning, Velistra City was still heavy with rain.
The clouds hung low, pressing against the skyline, and the scent of essence drifted faintly in the mist — ozone, rust, and power.
A news drone hovered above the street corners, its monotone voice echoing between towers:
> "Unstable A-rank portal detected in Sector Nine. Association response teams en route. Citizens are advised to evacuate the area—"
The warning repeated in several tongues, but Drax Magna wasn't listening.
He stood at the edge of the cordoned zone, the barrier lights flashing crimson across his pale face. His coat clung to him in the damp air, blue fabric darkened by rain. The moment his foot crossed the yellow line, the device at the gate beeped frantically—unable to identify or measure the essence within him.
He ignored it.
No permission. No registration. No team.
Just him.
The portal loomed ahead — a sphere of twisted light floating above the cracked asphalt. Unlike the stable blue shimmer of ordinary gates, this one bled colors that didn't belong to the spectrum of this world: sickly greens, deep violets, flashes of white that felt like screams frozen in light.
A Mutated Environment Portal.
Hazardous. Unpredictable. Alive.
> "Perfect," Drax muttered, rolling his shoulders.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a black dagger — a new one, forged from fragments of abyssal ore taken from his inner world. Its edge shimmered faintly, not reflecting the rain but swallowing it.
One breath in.
And then he stepped through.
He landed on cracked ground — no sky above, only a sea of floating islands suspended in a void of red clouds. The air was thick with essence; each breath felt like swallowing lightning. Far in the distance, a storm raged endlessly, flashes of light illuminating colossal trees whose roots drifted through the air like serpents.
It was… breathtaking.
But he could feel it — this place wasn't natural. It was a broken dream, stitched together by wild essence.
A mutated world trying to devour itself.
> "A-rank, huh?" Drax whispered. "Feels more like suicide."
He walked forward, his boots crunching over crystalline sand. Every step echoed — too loud. The silence here was wrong.
Then he heard it — the sound of something crawling.
From the red fog ahead, the first creature emerged.
It was humanoid, barely. Its skin was translucent, veins pulsing with luminescent fluid. Its head twisted at an unnatural angle, eyes glowing like burning glass. Around it, shards of the ground levitated, orbiting it like blades.
Drax gripped his dagger.
His Abyssal essence pulsed in his veins, responding like a predator tasting blood.
> "Come on, then."
The creature shrieked, lunging forward — too fast, too chaotic. Drax's body blurred; the dagger met its arm with a clash that cracked the air. But instead of bleeding, it exploded into shards of crystal that reformed instantly.
It attacked again, slashing with blades of essence.
Each strike was heavy, wild — enough to tear a man apart.
But Drax was no longer the timid boy who flinched from pain.
His movements were precise, efficient, cold.
He let the first blow graze his shoulder — enough to study its rhythm — then twisted, his dagger plunging through its chest. Abyssal energy flared, black veins spreading through the creature like cracks in glass.
> "Abyssal Combat…" Drax breathed, voice calm amidst the chaos.
He shifted his stance, absorbing the creature's unstable essence as it dissolved. The black veins on his arm pulsed once, then receded, the pain sharpening his focus.
> "Adapt. Devour. Overcome."
He looked down at his arm. The wound had already closed, new muscle forming beneath the skin. His essence felt denser now, heavier. The Abyss within him had fed again.
But the portal wasn't empty.
Not even close.
From the fog, more shapes appeared — dozens, crawling on all fours, their eyes glowing like scattered stars. And above them, a sound split the air — a scream so deep it made the floating islands tremble.
Drax looked up.
Something enormous was descending from the storm clouds — a being with wings like molten glass, its body a mass of red and white threads that twisted endlessly. Its presence warped the world around it.
> "A mutated monarch," Drax muttered. "A guardian of this realm."
He tightened his grip on the dagger, essence swirling around him. His Abyssal World responded — the red moon flaring behind his closed eyes.
He felt it then — the ground pulsing, his heartbeat syncing with the rhythm of the world.
And for the first time, he didn't resist.
He opened himself to the Abyss.
A wave of dark essence erupted from him, black energy swallowing the fog, devouring the light. The monsters screamed as they were pulled into the growing storm around him — their bodies and essence ripped apart, absorbed into his domain.
Above, the mutated monarch screeched, diving down like a falling comet.
Drax's eyes snapped open, glowing white and rimmed with shadow.
He crouched low, dagger gleaming.
> "Let's see what makes you bleed."
He leapt — a streak of black lightning — meeting the monster midair.
The clash echoed through the entire portal, and the sky itself cracked.
Outside the gate, the Inner World Association's scanners went wild. Essence levels spiked beyond measurable range.
> "The portal's collapsing!"
"No, it's being devoured! Something inside is draining the entire realm!"
And then—
Silence.
The sphere of twisted color flickered once… and vanished.
When the smoke cleared, Drax stood alone on the cracked street, rain still falling around him. The dagger in his hand pulsed faintly — alive, drinking in the last drops of monster blood.
His eyes were calm again, but the air around him shimmered with power. His Abyssal World had expanded once more — its black tree growing higher, new roots spreading through the unseen realms.
He exhaled slowly, the faintest smirk touching his lips.
> "A-rank portals aren't enough anymore."
He turned, walking into the night. The streetlights flickered as he passed, each one dimming until only darkness remained.