The sky was stained with blood.
The earth seemed to be screaming silently. The smell of burnt flesh wafted through the air, and invisible fear spread all around through that smell.
The abandoned city around was now a city of the dead. The walls bore traces of scattered blood stains. From the rubble of the buildings, light, pitiful, and inhuman cries could be heard. Not a human, not a living creature—these were the cries of ghosts.
Every word bit into the brain, as if it had become impossible to get rid of even one's own body.
Deep in this world, a new hell has now been born—
"Void's Devourer".
The human soul is no longer safe here.
The human body is no longer human here.
Inside, deep inside—ghosts, lost memories, and distorted emotions have taken on a terrifying form. They want to scream something, but language has been lost, only fear and death remain.
A shadowy street.
There were bodies standing in the middle of the street—shattered to the knees, crushed shoulders, eyesores melted. But they were still alive.
A strange black smoke was coming out of their bodies, mixing with the ground and giving birth to new ghosts.
It was like a "ghost infection"—where each wounded body was a new source of terror.
Through the broken windows in the roof of the building, an invisible being could be seen observing the surroundings. There was no presence, only a terrifying pressure—a kind of psychic crushing force—that was squeezing the brain so hard that some people started bleeding from their ears.
A teenage girl named Rin, who was standing on one side of the street, suddenly fell to the ground. Her eyes started to water, her whole body started to tremble.
The air in front of her thickened and made strange sounds, as if the air itself was now alive and hungry.
A moment later, a shadow of black darkness rose from around Rin's body and enveloped him. Before he could scream, his face was crushed by an invisible force.
Invisible shadows rushed over his body. The sound of bones crunching echoed around, and in just a few seconds, his existence was erased.
On the other side, a young boy was walking trembling.
There were blood stains on his feet, and his eyes had turned completely white. He suddenly stopped and looked up at the sky.
Something like a black shadow was descending from the sky, which looked like a mixture of smoke and a severely distorted face.
It surrounded the boy, and in an instant, all the skin began to fall off the boy's body. Flesh began to flow... he was no more.
A new ghost was born.
A new curse spread.
On the other side of the city, countless hands were emerging from the ground—skeletal hands, each with large, poisonous nails.
The hands were flailing in the air, as if trying to pull someone into the darkness below.
One stepped back in fear, stepping on the hand, and immediately an invisible force pulled him underground.
His screams were lost in the roar of the wind.
Every corner of the city was now a death chamber.
Looking at the ruins to the west, one could see some deformed ghosts, with three heads, six legs, and teeth as fine as hair but sharp.
They were moaning.
Their moaning was a kind of mental poison—those who listened were slowly going crazy.
This was pure hell.
There was no salvation here.
There was no hope here.
Here, there was only eating, tearing, and devouring each other.
And in the farthest corner of that broken world,
stood the Reaper—
but he was still lost in the shadows of darkness.
His time had not come.
His coming was still awaited.
This world was still only preparing for him.
For him, the one who would come to end it all.
It was as if everything was waking up.
A strange sound was coming from the chest of the silent city—
A silent gasping sound, which entered the ears and hit the brain like a whip.
The sky was not black—this time it was not blue either.
This time the sky was colored in a deep purple color, as if the nightmare itself had descended on this broken world with its own colors.
The air was getting heavier...
When I tried to breathe, it felt like someone was pressing a stone on my chest.
An invisible fear was consuming everything.
In the center of the city, at a devastated intersection, in a gap of blood that had accumulated under a collapsed electric pole, the ground suddenly cracked.
And from that crack rose something…
No, not life.
An invisible breath rose.
A smell came up—
The smell of burnt bodies, rotting souls, and torn flesh.
The smell was so strong that even the ghosts at a distance had to pause for a moment.
Suddenly, the still scene was shattered.
The ghost soldiers, whose bodies were distorted, disfigured, half-human, half-shadow, rushed towards the central crack in unison, cheering.
But...
When they reached the crack, then...
A cold wind blew—
No, this was not an ordinary cold wind.
It was a coldness that could penetrate the bones and freeze them.
The world stopped.
Only the roar of an invisible presence spread around.
A soundless roar.
A silent scream.
Then the mass destruction began.
The ghosts began to collapse to the ground one by one.
Their bodies swelled and exploded into a strange bloody shadow.
From each corpse emerged distorted faces, screaming for release at the last moment.
But there was no release here.
The fear had not yet really begun.
A shadow, slowly, stood on the huge, ruined building.
A ghostly black-purple glow swirled around its body, like a strange combination of shadow and smoke.
But the shadow's eyes glowed with a faint pink light—
a kind of cold, dead light that, when looked directly at, made one feel as if they were trapped in their own deepest nightmare.
Its long hair—
a gradient black and purple, like a direct mixture of darkness and poison.
Its body was skinny but terrifyingly attractive, like the god of death himself had descended into human form.
Its skin was pale, almost ashen, which made it even more supernatural.
It stood silently.
There was no sound around it, only terror.
A slightly distorted smile was forming at the corner of his lips—
A kind of psychotic calmness, which was actually a premonition of an apocalypse.
His mind was analyzing plan A to Z.
Every move, every enemy, every potential disaster—everything was already drawn in his mind.
He was the mastermind of annihilation.
His name was Reaper.
But even today he had not revealed his true power.
He just stood there, as if waiting for creation to give him another opportunity to destroy.
Some ghosts lying on the ground rushed towards him without delay.
Their bodies spread, shadow-twisted, distorted limbs wanted to attack.
But at that moment, Reaper raised his hand—
in a soft, steady manner.
A strange Aura Pulse spread from his fingertips—
A silent explosion, invisible to the eye, but felt by the mind.
The shadow of the Aura spread through the air.
The ghosts stopped... trembled... and in an instant their bodies crumpled to dust.
Not a drop of blood fell.
Just silent death.
"I have come."
The Reaper said softly, that sinister smile at the corners of his lips.
"Welcome to the End."
And from the far corners of the city the wind carried a new sound of screams—
the sound of fear, of exhaustion, and of hell itself descending to earth.