The sky above the dying Earth bled in long, jagged crimson fractures, as if reality itself had been slashed open. Towering megacities that once glittered like jewels now dissolved at the edges, concrete and steel melting into formless primal sludge that oozed down the streets like living tar. People ran, screamed, and then simply forgot why they were running. Their bodies twisted bones lengthening, skin bubbling, minds dissolving into raw animalistic instinct.
Years earlier, the protective Ozone layer had cracked and shattered without warning. The Earth was suddenly exposed to the firmament above, and a strange gray gaseous substance poured in. At first, it seemed like a blessing. The gas dissolved into ethereal ether upon touching the air, and everything began to "evolve." Resources multiplied, animals and plants grew larger and stronger, and humans enjoyed longer lifespans and better health. Governments cheered. Citizens around the world celebrated with merry festivals as new developments spread like wildfire.
But the rapid development brought heavier pollution, which tore the Ozone layer even further. More grayish substance flooded in. Soon the so-called evolution turned into chaos. Animals and plants grew monstrous and began rampaging through cities. Humans started awakening supernatural powers, super strength, blinding speed, enhanced vision. At first, people rejoiced as heroes rose up to fight the mutated creatures.
Then came the groundbreaking research from a young female scientist. According to her findings, humans and other creatures were not evolving at all. They were regressing reverting to their primal embodiment. The gray gas was the cause, and if left unchecked, everything would dissolve back into pure primal chaos. Her report made headlines across every nation.
The public response was outrage. She was bashed online, called a fearmonger and a liar. The governments, greedy for the new resources and power, refused to accept her claims. They shut down her lab and assured the world that her warnings were nonsense.
Now, in the final days of Earth, as the planet descended into full apocalyptic ruin, her words had proven painfully true.
In those last desperate hours, two souls still refused to submit.
Deep beneath a collapsing research complex on the outskirts of what had once been a metropolis, Dr. Elara Voss sat alone in a dimly lit laboratory. Emergency lights flickered like dying stars. Her white lab coat was wrinkled and stained with weeks of spilled coffee and sleepless nights. She had once been an ordinary scientist brilliant, diligent, perhaps a little too kind for her own good. When she first joined the project, she believed the promise: work hard, contribute meaningfully, and finally enjoy a normal life decent pay, evenings to herself, weekends to travel, maybe even a quiet relationship someday.
Instead, her superiors saw her kindness as weakness. Project after project was dumped onto her shoulders because "Elara is reliable. She won't complain. She's nice." Even in the final days, after they had ignored and shut down her research, they dragged her back to find a solution. She worked around the clock, sleeping barely four hours on a cot in the corner while her bosses took the credit and went home to their families. The good life she had dreamed of never came. The exhaustion piled up until it turned into resentment, then cold, unbreakable logic.
"If people will always take advantage when you let them," she whispered to the empty monitors, her voice hoarse, "then the only logical choice is to stop being usable."
The building shuddered violently. Cracks spider-webbed across the reinforced ceiling. Elara looked up, her ordinary brown eyes reflecting the red emergency glow for the last time. In that moment, something inside her hardened completely.
A final cataclysmic surge of primal chaos tore through the facility. Concrete crumbled, equipment melted, and Elara Voss died with a bitter, perfectly logical smile on her lips.
Next time… I will not be nice.
...
Hundreds of kilometers away, in the ruins of the once-opulent Central Courthouse of the same fallen megacity, Attorney Kael Draven stood on the cracked marble steps as the world ended around him. Dark-skinned and sharp-featured, his sanpaku black-obsidian eyes had always made people uneasy, as though he could see straight through their lies. He had been one of the most successful lawyers on the continent — witty, ruthless when necessary, and intimately acquainted with both the shining ideals and the filthy underbelly of human society.
Over the years he had defended the guilty, prosecuted the innocent, and watched judges sell verdicts for bribes. He had seen clients betray their own blood for money and prosecutors fabricate evidence without blinking. From those harsh experiences, he had forged three simple rules he repeated like quiet prayers:
"Humans are very capricious, therefore one can't be too careful."
"No living thing is useless it depends on how you make use of them."
"Some people can be trusted… only when they are useful."
Tonight, even those rules felt meaningless. The world itself had become the ultimate unreliable client.
Kael lit his last cigarette with steady hands as the ground split open beneath his feet and primal chaos roared upward like a living maw. He took one long drag, black-obsidian eyes staring unflinchingly into the void.
"If everything is going to revert anyway," he said calmly, smoke curling from his lips, "then the only winning move is to become the one who decides what remains."
The cigarette slipped from his fingers as the abyss swallowed him whole.
...
In that final instant, something ancient stirred — the last desperate spark of resistance left on a dying planet. Two souls that had refused to dissolve quietly were seized by that spark and hurled across the veil between worlds, carrying with them the scars of exploitation, betrayal, and hard-earned logic.
Far away, in a vast and still-stable realm known as the Sub-Realm, two infants opened their eyes for the first time in new bodies.
One had porcelain-pale skin and a faint tuft of white hair.
The other had darker skin and eyes that already carried an unsettling sanpaku glint.
Neither yet knew they had been given another chance.