Chapter 01: The Retired Veilstrider.
A part-timer at a convenience store, hair messy and uncut, eyes dulled by exhaustion, tossed the last volume-based waste disposal bag into the garbage bin.
The bell above the door jingled as a few customers walked in. He rushed back to the counter.
"Welcome," he said flatly.
His shift had technically ended, but his boss hadn't shown up yet.
As the customers returned with snacks and he began scanning them, the door creaked open again—his boss had finally arrived. Won exhaled, relief barely visible in the slump of his shoulders.
"You'd better stay the night, Won," the owner said, shrugging off his coat.
Won gave him a glance, but said nothing. He simply packed the snacks and handed them over, bowing with a faint smile.
"Three domains have broken out in different parts of the city. If you head out now, who knows what might happen? What if another one opens nearby?"
But Won was already peeling off his work uniform, ignoring the warning.
"You could just tell your family you're staying with me tonight," the owner added.
"For the last time," Won said quietly, "I don't have any family."
He shot the man one last look before striding toward the door. "And for the record, even if I'm retired, I haven't forgotten the basics of a Veilstrider's craft. Worry about yourself, old man."
"I know myself better that I am no better even as a veilstrider!" Won thought.
The owner muttered under his breath, "No family, huh? Then why do you still care so much about them if you can't even admit they're yours?"
Won chose the subway. It was late. He still hadn't picked up the medicine for her.
Leaning against a railing, he counted his savings. Rent was due. Tuition for that kid, Seo Dohee, hadn't been paid. Money was tight.
The train was quiet save for the soft blare of news reports. Everyone had their eyes glued to their phones—each screen flashing with the same message: Domain Breakouts Across Seoul.
Distant screams echoed from the speakers, blending into the hum of the train.
Once, Won had been a Veilstrider—those who fought in the domains against the monstrous and the inhuman. Though only a veilstrider of third lowest rank Mastery Rank 8, he had been a strategist—sharp, methodical.
But in the domains, strategy meant little. There was no time to think. No space for plans. Only kill or be killed.
Eventually, as others ascended the ranks and he remained stagnant, Won gave up. His earning was too low to keep up with everything. He had to give up. Now doing 4 part time jobs all together.
Thud!
Thud!
Silence.
Then came panic. Eyes darted around, wide with fear. A thudding sound from the neighboring compartment.
A scream. "A… A Domain! It's broken out in the next compartment!"
Chaos erupted. People shoved, screamed, stumbled over each other in panic.
But Won didn't move.
What do I do?
God…
"Everyone," a calm voice rang out.
That voice.
Won turned instinctively toward its source.
Ja Hoomin.
Marshal of Saishza Spire. One of the Eight Strongest Veilstriders of the nation. A Voidtex Rank Veilstrider.
His former mentor.
Hoomin pulled down his hood. Gasps spread like wildfire.
"Ja Hoomin is here!"
"We're saved!"
"Stay calm!" he ordered, stepping forward. "Back away from the source! Help is en route. I just need space to—"
Thud!
The ceiling exploded inward.
A monster crashed down—a massive humanoid with four horns and six arms. People screamed. Cried. Fled.
An old woman, too slow to react, was frozen in place. The beast loomed over her, growling low.
Won moved before he could think, diving between her and the monster.
"MOVE! GET OUT OF HERE!" Ja Hoomin bellowed.
He summoned his blade mid-air, leaping onto the creature's head. Steel met bone. Horns shattered.
Won scooped the old woman into his arms and sprinted toward the gathered survivors.
"Stay here, grandma," he said, setting her down gently. Then turned. Ran—toward the next compartment where the domain's portal was.
"Hey, kid!" Hoomin shouted, parrying a swipe. "Where the hell do you think you're going?!"
"There are still people back there. We have to get them out!"
"You think you can handle it?! You're just a civilia—"
EYAAAHK!
"Senior Ja!" Won shouted, hitting the ground as the monster collapsed with a crash.
But...
Ja Hoomin was bleeding.
The monster slammed down. Hoomin dropped with it. Blood poured from a deep wound in his chest—one of the monster's horns had skewered straight through.
"No..."
"Senior, hang on! A Salvane unit will be here any minute, right? You just have to hold on!" Won pressed his hands against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding.
Hoomin moved his hands away, slowly pushing himself upright. "Who do you think I am?"
He rose, blood dripping from his mouth, coughing hard.
"I'm a Voidtex Rank Veilstrider. I won't let anyone die while I still stand."
Won watched, disbelieving, as Hoomin pulled the jagged horn from his chest like a splinter.
Hoomin's eyes narrowed. "I almost didn't recognize you. Won, wasn't it? That no-last-name kid who vanished a year ago?"
A bloody smile. "Good to see you again."
"I don't care why you quit. But for now—until backup arrives—give me your hand."
Won stood.
Without a word, he followed Hoomin into the next compartment—toward the heart of the broken domain.
Sparks flickered overhead. A putrid fog rolled in from the breach. Won stood frozen, breath shallow, hands clenched into fists that trembled with something old—something buried.
And through the rift…
A light that made no sense spilled into the world. A color he couldn't name. A presence that didn't belong here.
"Won," Ja Hoomin's voice cut through the static like a blade.
Won turned. Hoomin stood in the center of the compartment, sword drawn, face unreadable under the flickering lights.
"What the hell is this?" Won whispered.
Hoomin's eyes narrowed. "Class Sigma."
Won's blood turned to ice.
"Impossible," he muttered. "They said… Class Sigma was theoretical. Only in the archives—"
"They were wrong."
Then the first monster descended.
A figure floated from the breach—no wings flapping, no feet touching ground.
A Nihil Seraph.
Six wings of translucent bone spread wide, etched with unholy runes. It hovered like a judgment that had already been made. Its face shifted, flickering between a child's smile and a corpse's emptiness.
Won's mind blanked.
He opened his mouth, forgot why.
Hoomin growled, "Don't look at it!"
But it was too late.
Won fell to his knees, disoriented. His name—his name was…
What was it?
"Shit!" Hoomin flashed forward, standing in front of him. "Won! Snap out of it!"
"I—I—" He grabbed his own head, groaning. "I can't… think…"
"Stay behind me. Don't blink. Don't try to remember."
The Nihil Seraph raised its hand. A pulse of darkness rippled outward.
Oblivion Halo.
The world twisted. Time unraveled. The floor dissolved into memories, faces, colors—until Hoomin stepped forward and slashed the air itself.
Steel cut through the void like it was silk.
The Seraph recoiled—startled.
Hoomin struck again. His sword danced with electricity, arcs of light crawling up his arms like awakened spirits. The moment he stepped forward, thunder clapped behind him.
Won forced himself to stand. "You're fighting it alone?! You'll die!"
Hoomin spat blood to the side. "You think I don't know that? Even as a Voidtex Rank, there's no way I can fight it alone."
His sword clashed with one of the Seraph's wings. The light shattered. Its scream was soundless, yet still ruptured the train windows.
Won tried to run toward him. "Let me fight—!"
Hoomin shouted without turning, "You'd last five seconds in that aura, kid! Stay back!"
"I'm not a kid—!"
"Then act like it! Have your eyes on the people! Guard them for me."
Won froze.
And Hoomin roared forward, cutting down two more wings with a spinning strike that cracked the steel floor. The Seraph twisted away, vanishing into black mist.
But from that mist, something else rose.
Epoch Tyrant.
A serpent coiled through time itself, each scale showing a different reality. Its head bore three eyes—one for what was, one for what is, and one that stared into what would be.
The beast didn't hiss. It echoed.
Won took a shaky step back. "That's a Tyrant… from the Spire records…"
"Don't talk," Hoomin said. "Breathe. Just breathe."
"But it's a Sigma-class… Two monsters already?! What kind of domain is this?"
Hoomin glanced at the rift.
"I don't know how long I can hang on with this!" He muttered under his breath.
He raised his blade again.
The Epoch Tyrant struck.
From the past. And the future. And the now.
Three strikes at once—each in a different timeline.
Hoomin blurred.
Steel met claw across three moments of reality.
Sparks flew in reverse.
Blood spilled before the cut.
Won saw it all—his former mentor caught between instants, his body flickering like static, resisting being torn apart across three timelines. The train's ceiling was lost, revealing the sky.
"You can't keep that up!" Won shouted, his throat burning.
"You'd be surprised…" Hoomin panted, voice hoarse. "What a dead man can endure."
Another blow struck him in the ribs. Bone cracked.
The sky tore.
They both turned.
Won gasped. "...What the hell is that?"
Floating above the domain breach was a thing not shaped like anything that belonged in this world.
A mouth.
A void.
A Maw.
Eyes—millions—watched from inside its yawning chasm. No body. No voice. Just teeth and gaze. It was the storm. It was hunger itself.
Then the world tilted sideways.
Whole chunks of the station simply vanished.
Erased.
"No," Hoomin whispered. "This wasn't supposed to be possible…"
"The Maw Beyond, isn't it?" Won said, his voice like a child's. "They keep coming. How long can we—"
And then reality itself buckled. A pulse of nothingness exploded outward. Hoomin flew back, smashing through what was left of the train.
Won ran to him, stumbled, blood in his mouth.
"Senior Ja!"
The man groaned, dragging himself up.
His body was broken.
One eye swollen shut. Limbs trembling. Blood pouring from his side.
The monsters circled. Time twisted. Oblivion spun.
And Hoomin stood slowly.
"I've got one last cut," he muttered. "And I'm giving it everything."
Won staggered forward. "Stop. You can't—"
Hoomin looked at him. "I wasn't trying to survive."
"What?"
He smiled. "I came in knowing I'd die."
Then he pointed his blade at the Maw.
"You—on the other hand—you're still running from your life."
He turned his head slightly, that faint smirk still there.
"Stop running, Won."
And then he charged.
The world blinked.
Thunder.
Lightning.
Roars.
Steel.
A scream like the end of all things.
Won couldn't move.
He watched as Hoomin fought everything. As he broke wings, slashed timelines, stood against oblivion.
He gave everything.
Until finally—
The Maw moved. A single eye opened wide. A beam of pure, unreal power surged.
And Ja Hoomin took it—directly to the chest. His body convulsed. Light speared through him. One last step. One last cut.
The Maw screamed and Hoomin fell.
Won caught him before he hit the ground. Blood spilled across his arms.
Hoomin's eyes fluttered. "Hah… That's it…"
"No… No no no—stay with me! Don't close your eyes!"
Hoomin's lips twitched. Not quite a smile.
"At least someone's there to be passed over with what had been mine."
And then—he exhaled.
Stillness.
No words.
Then something inside Won changed. A spark. A jolt. Like fire crawling into his bones. Electricity hummed in his spine, his ribs, his soul. He opened his mouth. And the lightning answered. Everything burned.
Won collapsed to one knee, his hands trembling above Hoomin's still body. The warmth from Hoomin's skin was already fading, but something else had begun to glow—inside Won.
It pulsed through his limbs like a second heartbeat, unfamiliar but ancient, like a song he had never learned yet somehow knew.
"Wh… what is this?" he breathed.
He wasn't breathing hard anymore. The exhaustion that had clung to him like lead suddenly lifted, replaced by a crackling sensation under his skin—like thunder pacing in his blood.
His eyes widened.
The Epoch Tyrant circled back, sensing something had changed. Its scales shimmered with fractured time. One version of it bled. Another sneered. A third one hadn't been struck yet.
The Nihil Seraph was hovering again, but its movements were hesitant now—less certain.
Even the Maw Beyond had gone still, its billions of eyes focused.
On him.
Won.
The retired veilstrider who never made it past Rank 8.
He rose to his feet—slowly, deliberately.
The electric hum deepened. Sparks arced around his arms, trailing his movements like whispers. One step forward and the floor hissed beneath his foot.
Crack.
A single arc of lightning snaked out from his wrist and struck the air.
The Nihil Seraph flinched. Won didn't speak. His throat was clenched shut. Inside, he was still screaming. His body moved before he told it to. He charged, not like a warrior—but like a storm unleashed.
The Seraph reached out, its wings folding inward to cast the Oblivion Halo again. Too slow.
Won vanished in a blink, reappearing mid-air, hand blazing with light. He slammed his fist into its face.
Boom!
The impact detonated the ceiling above. Steel buckled. Light exploded. The Seraph crashed into the far wall, wings torn and symbols fizzling into dust. The Epoch Tyrant retaliated. It twisted through timelines again—this time attacking from five different angles.
Won gritted his teeth.
His arms moved, as if someone else controlled them. Electricity surged from his fingertips, lashing outward like living chains. They caught each timeline-strike mid-air, halting the attacks before they touched him.
He wasn't just reacting.
He was predicting.
"...What the hell just happened to me…" he whispered.
The Maw screeched. Reality bent.
Another surge of void expanded outward, tearing through the walls, the tracks, the station.
Won took a breath—one breath—and held it.
He ran forward, directly into the chaos.
The Epoch Tyrant struck again.
He jumped, flipped, dodged through timelines he didn't understand—yet felt. At one point he was behind the Tyrant before it knew. At another he was in front of it when it wasn't looking.
The electricity bent space around him, warping his movement. His foot landed on the beast's back. He gathered power—and launched himself skyward.
Directly into the path of the Maw Beyond.
Time slowed.
Up there, in the air, where no one could help him, Won stared into the abyss of that impossible mouth.
He saw himself.
He felt the fear curl up again. The self-doubt. The failure. The loneliness.
"Did I defeat it…?" he whispered.
"Did I kill the monsters…?"
His voice cracked. His knees buckled mid-air.
"Why am I still alive…?"
He wasn't sure he wanted to be.
"I have people waiting for me at home…"
He swallowed hard.
"There's no one else for them but me…"
Tears blurred his eyes, even as lightning surged brighter around him.
"I was never enough…"
"I wasn't strong…"
He remembered Hoomin's last look.
That knowing look of trust. Won clenched his fists. Then screamed upward.
"GOD!"
His voice cracked the air. "If I could just go back! One last time—if I could just go back and do it all again—!"
"I'd change it!"
"I swear—!"
"Just once! Give me one more chance—!"
He didn't know who he was talking to.
God?
The Void?
He punched the sky.
Electricity exploded out of him, expanding in every direction, a massive aura storm of raw power. It lit up the domain breach like a second sun.
The Epoch Tyrant vanished.
The Nihil Seraph screamed, its wings burned away.
The Maw flinched.
He fell back toward the earth.
The last thing he saw—
Was the monster's body collapsing toward him.
Its mouth open.
Its weight unstoppable.
Won didn't run.
"Is this it for me?"
"I wanted to survive too." He whispered as he opened his arms, closing his eyes.
Everything went black.
No heartbeat.
"I died, didn't I?"
A whisper inside his mind.
ACCESSING: THE SECRETS OF THE BEGINNING.
SB NEXUS DETECTED.
SUBJECT IDENTIFIED: WON [UNKNOWN CLASS].
ACCESS GRANTED.