The night after another exhaustive shift, Hange Falcon walked to his home through silent streets of Jonuk City, lost in the fog of his thoughts that nobody had answers for. It was as if there was a mystery energy surrounding him-invisible, yet heavy-that pulled him towards something unknown. His job was ordinary and boring, nothing but repetitive, and yet, something deep inside him whispered that fate was preparing him for a path no human had ever walked.
As soon as he entered the house, his eyes had fallen upon the old wooden box that was lying on his table, dusty, ancient, half-open, and appeared to be breathing, waiting for him.
Inside was nestled a black leather-bound book, cracked with age, wrapped in a faint mist that rose like smoke from icy water — The Book of Spirits. He did not recall buying it, receiving it, or even ever touching it. Still, something moved him, as if unseen hands had nudged his spirit. His heart began pounding, his fingertips trembling, yet he reached for it.
Cold lightning shot through his veins the moment his skin brushed the surface of the book. The temperature fell immediately. Shadows lengthened, and lights flickered, while a whispered voice seemed to emanate from nowhere-or everywhere.
Hange swallowed hard and opened it.
-
THE BOOK UNVEILED
The pages were not of ordinary paper-they seemed a mixture of smoke and ash and reflected starlight that swirled and danced as if alive. The letters shone faint silver, in a language he knew without ever having learned.
The first passage froze him:
> "Heaven is not above…
It is a star shining with eternal beauty-a celestial kingdom called Nirvana Star.
A realm, once pure, scarred for all eternity.
Hange's breath shook. The illustrations in this book were like holograms: a shining white star among galaxies, surrounded by radiant angels… then suddenly devoured by shadows.
Every page reiterated one name, emblazoned with glowing ink like a brand:
ROHMANN — THE ZERO-RAW WARRIOR.
Written beneath it was:
> Power Level: Zero Raw —
A force that cannot be measured, nor created nor destroyed.
The power which starts where infinity dies."
Hange whispered the name.
The room shook.
He continued to read, unable to stop.
***
The Bloody Story of
Long before humankind learned to speak or dream, there existed two ultimate forces:
Heaven, built on divine consciousness, and Hell, built on cursed wills.
Between them stood an ancient battlefield: the Realm of Spirits, where lost souls cried without tongues and shadows bled without wounds.
From this chaos was born Rohmann, without origin or recorded parentage, neither celestial nor demonic lineage. He didn't rise through training, blessing, or curse - he simply existed, as if the universe itself feared a vacuum and created him to fill the most terrible gap.
He had once defeated thousands of corrupted spirits in an instant, not with weapons, spells, or divine arts, but with imagination-manifested-into-reality: if he pictured a monster burning, its existence collapsed; if he imagined surroundings exploding, they obeyed without question.
He was not magic.
He was not God.
He was Zero Raw-power formed directly from the root of existence.
But legends never stay quiet.
---
YARDCOST'S BETRAYAL
The terrible age, Yardcost, the ancient commander born of cursed cosmic dust, at one point desired the Nirvana Star throne to rule Heaven-to twist purity into a weapon capable of enslaving time itself. He shattered the gates of the heavenly realm, tore down the celestial towers, and slew the divine guardians.
He expected proud angels.
He received Rohmann.
Rohmann didn't roar, didn't chant spells, didn't summon armies.
He gazed at Yardcost — and the heavens shook.
But Rohmann didn't finish him.
He chose his duty first: to protect Earth from the cursed energies that seeped into it like invisible disease, poisoning souls, mutating emotions, and turning dreams into weapons. He left Heaven, traveling beyond galaxies, through light-years unknown, to seek and seal the last cursed source.
In his absence, Heaven had become ruins — destroyed beyond divine healing.
When Rohmann finally returned from the mission, dust-covered and silent, he found glorious Nirvana Star burned, broken, torn apart-a silent graveyard floating in space.
His heart didn't break.
It erupted.
Beyond rage, beyond grief, he envisioned destruction —and two whole planets shattered like glass. His power wasn't based on rage; it was based upon reality. The universe buckled under his emotion. Even Hell shook. The dead screamed.
From that day on, Rohmann's story was taboo — not out of respect, but out of fear.
Where knowledge becomes fear, silence becomes law.
NOTE
A DARK FUTURE
Hange flipped the pages faster, with the whispering now louder, like hundreds of ghosts whispering directly into his mind.
The final recorded prophecy revealed something horrifying:
Yardcost survived.
Not in space had he hidden, but among humans, planning to rebuild an army with the use of human hatred, despair, trauma, and nightwarrior, which were the only elements strong enough to evolve cursed energy into cosmic sin power.
He chose Earth - a planet that unknowingly generated negative energy every second.
When Yardcost learned that Rohmann still existed and had become even stronger than ever before, he whispered in the void,
"To defeat the unimaginable, I must rebuild the unthinkable."
Rohmann, unaware of Yardcost's arrival, was planning to return to Heaven to restore what remained…
But the book revealed one final horrifying truth:
> Earth is no longer simply a planet,
It has become the largest core of cursed energy in the universe.
And Rohmann was coming…
Not to protect.
But to uproot corruption — even if humanity became dust as collateral.
---
THE ROOM CHANGES
Hange slammed the book shut.
The room fell silent.
No whispers.
No wind.
No flickering lights.
He suddenly felt watched.
He forced himself up, walked to the kitchen, and cooked food — though his mind drowned in dread. Every sound felt unnaturally amplified: the knife against the plate, the boiling water, even his breathing. He sat by the window and watched the moonless sky. Dark clouds now moved unnaturally fast. The shadows twisted in his garden like living tendrils. Something stirred. Not outside… Inside him. He could not calm his shaking heart, so he stepped outside. The garden felt cold, colder than it ever felt, with an air so thick he could almost hear the echo of his heartbeat. Leaves rustled, though there was no wind; the silence was alive. He stared at the sky, his fists clenched, and whispered; but it did not sound like his own voice:
"I will not fear destiny. If hell rises and heaven falls… I will stand as the top fighter…"
** His eyes were glowing faintly. NERFLICKS Not normal. "…Over."