The world had gone to shit.
It had only been a week since what humans came to call the apocalypse began, and Julius still struggled to believe it was real.
The first day had been so normal.
A regular Friday that was meant to be the end of the week.
Students trudging through their classes, professors droning about assignments, and Julius himself locked away in his dorm room, avoiding social interaction since he was feeling a bit under the weather.
Then, at 12:42 p.m., the sky split apart.
He remembered it vividly: a beam of light descending across the horizon, blindingly bright, searing through clouds like molten glass.
Within minutes, chaos followed.
People screamed, alarms blared, and then — silence… broken only by the first guttural moans of the infected.
Humanity had fallen in hours.
Now, it was just him, barricaded inside his small dorm apartment in this dorm building, he was sure of it.
There could be other survivors in the dorms but he didn't care.
Julius stood by his window, staring out at the ruined college campus.
Corpses littered the walkways below, students and professors alike — friends, strangers, all indistinguishable in death.
Zombies staggered aimlessly between buildings, their twisted forms grotesque mockeries of the people they once were.
And then there were the other things.
He didn't know what to call them, hadn't seen them fully, but sometimes — through the cracks in boarded-up windows or between shattered street lamps, he glimpsed their shapes.
Towering rat-like creatures prowling the edges of campus, their long tails whipping the ground.
Every time he saw one, Julius ducked out of sight, heart hammering.
He'd learned quickly: making noise was suicide.
Even sealed inside his dorm, he hadn't been safe.
Just two days ago, the door across from his had splintered apart.
He'd watched through the peephole, breath held, as a former classmate was dragged screaming into the hall, bitten, and transformed in minutes.
Julius hadn't slept since.
'Clara… I hope you're still alive.'
The thought of his childhood friend was one of the few things keeping him sane.
She'd been in class when it all happened.
Now, with zombies infesting every corner of campus, she might already be dead… or worse.
He slumped back onto his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
His stomach growled — he hadn't eaten properly in days but hunger was the least of his worries.
He needed to get out of here, His childhood friend, his mother…. His sister… they were out there.
That's when it happened.
A translucent blue screen flickered into existence before his eyes, hovering midair.
[Congratulations for surviving one week.]
"Eh…?" His voice cracked from disuse, raspy from dehydration.
[Compared to others in the apocalypse, you have gone through a late Awakening.]
'Late awakening?' Julius blinked. 'So… other survivors got this before me?'
Of course.
It figured he'd be unlucky even in the end of the world.
He'd always been like that — average grades, average looks, and cursed with bad luck. But at least he was alive.
[You will now be granted a Job Class.]
"Job class…?" Julius muttered, staring at the glowing words.
[A Job Class is a unique power granted to survivors. Each class comes with three starting skills, and can evolve as you grow stronger.]
[Classes can change or evolve upon reaching Level 30.]
He exhaled slowly. "So… like an RPG?"
It felt ridiculous, but then again, nothing was normal anymore.
"Alright," he whispered, half to himself. "What's my job?"
The blue screen pulsed, shifting hues — from sky blue to emerald green.
His heart pounded in his chest but he knew not to get his hopes up, He had bad luck after all…
He probably would get the lowest of the low.
[Congratulations. You have awakened a Mythic Grade Class: Necromancer.]
"…What?"
Before he could react, a surge of energy tore through him like lightning.
His muscles spasmed; every nerve lit up.
The exhaustion weighing him down evaporated in an instant, replaced by raw vitality.
His body felt alive for the first time in days.
[Your Unique Skills have been distributed.]
[Congratulations! You are the first survivor to awaken a Mythic Class.]
Julius's breath hitched.
First?
For someone who'd never been special, the words didn't feel real.
Then, another notification appeared.
[You have caught the attention of a Sponsor.]
[Sponsorship Offer: The God of the Dead has chosen you.]
His eyes widened. "God… of the Dead?"
Necromancer.
Death.
It fit.
Both went hand in hand after all.
If this was real — if some higher being was offering him its favor, he'd be an idiot to refuse.
In a world overrun by death, wouldn't aligning with it be his best shot at survival?
"I accept."
The moment he spoke, icy darkness poured through him like ink.
His vision tunneled, the edges dimming, and a new message burned across his emerald screen.
[Supreme Title Granted: Son of Death.]
His eyes reflected in the dark window glass — once brown, now glowing green, faint and eerie like ghostfire.
Then his body went limp.
The last thing Julius saw before blacking out was his trembling hands… and the faint sound of a whisper in his ear.
"Rise, my child."
And then, nothing.