Owen's POV
The air in Shanghai was thick—rain-soaked and heavy, like the world knew I was done with it.
I stood at the rooftop edge of a naless building, boots planted in puddles that shimred with the city's glow. Below , the world churned in ignorance. Cars moved. Lights blinked. People laughed, lied, lived.
But I...
I had outgrown this place.
Yvette.
Her na no longer burned—it just echoed. A haunting whisper of what could have been, now twisted into obsession and delusion.
She wasn't the reason I was leaving.
But she was the final confirmation.
This world—its noise, its ss of half-truths and fragile egos—had nothing left for soone like .
I am Alpha and Oga.
The first roar and the last breath.
The king of beasts, the breaker of tyrants.
But even that... isn't enough.
Power. I crave more.
Not for glory. Not for revenge.
But because I need to know—how far can I go before even the stars bow?
I pulled my hood over my head, wind licking at my coat as I activated the Rift Key buried beneath my wristband.
A hum.
A flash.
Reality bending.
"I'm done with this world," I said to no one. "Let soone else deal with petty kings and broken won."
I looked up at the moon—faint, distant, cold.
"I want to fight gods."
And then—
I stepped through the portal.
Into the next world.
Into the unknown.
Where legends still dared to challenge fate...
And where my hunger might finally be fed.
-----
Samuel's POV – Twilight Rift, Edge of the Second World
The portal crackled behind , fizzling out like dying lightning. Owen was gone. Henry had already walked into his own dinsion. And ?
I stood alone beneath a darkened sky streaked with violet stars. The air here was different—thin, charged, like it was watching.
I crossed my arms, the long coat billowing behind as the wind howled like a dying beast. My reflection in the obsidian shard beneath my feet showed exactly what I was—
Level 200. Harbinger of Destruction.
A monster made of wrath, wisdom, and cold judgnt.
But I wasn't satisfied.
Owen... he seeks the throne of gods.
Henry... the perfect blade, honing himself endlessly.
And ?
I just want to burn the limits.
"Separate paths. That's good," I muttered, staring into the next dinsional tear forming before . "We were never ant to walk together forever. We're monsters, not saints."
I turned to the silent void behind , imagining the world we just left—full of ashes, whispers of betrayal, power plays and broken lovers. We played our part. Wrote our Chapters in blood and fire.
Now?
"I'll go to the Third World. My own world. My own war."
I summoned my status window one last ti—watching the abilities flicker, old ones evolving in anticipation of what was coming.
I smiled. A slow, cruel smile that only war-hardened demons can wear.
"No companions. No allies. Just and whatever dares to think I'm beneath it."
I stepped forward, and the world shattered into shards of red and black.
---
Third World. Dinsion: Oblivion Core.
Samuel has arrived.
And Destruction follows.
—
Third World — Oblivion Core
Samuel's POV
The mont my boots hit the ground, it scread beneath .
Not literally.
But the land here? It's alive. And it hates .
Everything is wrong in this dinsion—the sky is a burning ring of red and bone-white clouds. Trees twist like skeletal arms. The wind carries whispers not ant for mortals. The place reeked of rot, magic, and forgotten gods.
Perfect.
I stepped forward and instantly felt the pressure—like the world itself was sizing up, deciding whether I was predator or prey.
Spoiler: I don't do prey.
"Looks like I'm not welco," I muttered, grinning. "Good. I'm tired of hospitality."
Suddenly, a shadow lunged out of the woods—a hulking beast, nine feet tall, with a jagged obsidian spine and too many mouths. It shrieked sothing unintelligible and charged.
I didn't move.
Until it was two feet away.
Then—snap.
One hand. One motion. Its entire body cracked backwards like a snapped tree.
"You're my welcoming party?" I muttered, flicking blood off my fingers.
Then—more ca.
A whole pack of the things—twisted horrors, malford guardians of this cursed land.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
I rolled my neck. Cracked my knuckles.
Status: Berserk Protocol - Activated.
New Title Acquired: Invader of the Lost Plane.
"Alright, Oblivion Core," I growled. "Let's see who breaks first. You—or ."
Then I charged.
A red streak tearing into the night.
Reviews
All reviews (0)