Immediately after the spatial cracks appeared, a phenomenon occurred simultaneously across the globe.
Every single screen – from TVs, smartphones, and computers to giant digital billboards – turned black simultaneously. At the same moment, a piercing sound, like the wailing of countless souls and the tearing of metal, emanated from every speaker, every audio device. It forced billions to cover their ears in pain.
Then, on all those black screens, an image appeared.
It was not the face of a human or any comprehensible creature. It was a visual labyrinth of non-Euclidean geometry, of spatial curves that intersected themselves, of polyhedrons rotating in impossible states. Looking at it made the human mind feel dizzy, nauseous, and a primordial fear rose from the depths of the subconscious.
And a voice rang out. It was not any human language, yet everyone understood its meaning, as if it were carved directly into their consciousness. The voice was cold, empty, utterly emotionless, like the operation of a giant cosmic machine.
"A DECLARATION FOR THE APOCALYPSE."
"Your Era has ended. The Ragnarok Era now begins."
"This is not an invasion. This is a Screening. A Crucible."
"The Challengers will descend. They are the embodiment of Chaos, of Fear, of Oblivion. Fight them. Or die."
"In destruction, new strength will sprout. In nightmare, you will mature. Or perish."
"Show Me... whether your species is worthy of stepping onto the universe's new stage, or mere dust to be blown away."
The message ended abruptly. All screens returned to normal. The sound vanished.
A moment of deathly silence enveloped the globe. Utter horror paralyzed people.
Then, chaos erupted with unprecedented intensity. The declaration offered no preparation; it only deepened despair.
"Screening"? "Crucible"? They were the words of a mad god.
And then, the "Challengers" mentioned in the message, descended for real. This was no longer isolated attacks. This was a deluge of monsters.
From the cracks in the sky, giant dragon-like creatures with wings made of rotting corpses swooped down, spewing breaths of putrid Essence that turned entire city blocks into decomposing swamps within minutes. Those inside didn't die instantly; their bodies melted slowly, merging into the horrific fluid.
From the shadows in alleyways, two-dimensional entities, flat as paper, slithered out. They glided past people, and anyone they touched was literally sliced into sections, the cuts eerily perfect.
From the very speakers that had broadcast the message, an infrasound began to resonate. It wasn't deafening, but it vibrated internal organs. Those who heard it started vomiting blood, their eyes burst, and then their heads detonated like water balloons.
The world's militaries reacted. Tanks, fighter jets, the most advanced weapons were mobilized. But they were almost useless. Armor-piercing rounds passed through the shadowy bodies of the monsters without causing harm. Missiles were absorbed by energy-form monsters and became part of them.
A horrifying scene unfolded in Tokyo: A monster shaped like a giant tree of flesh, with branches of elongated human arms, grew from the ground. Those arms seized people one by one, pulling them towards the trunk and "grafting" them onto its fleshy surface, where the victims' faces were forever frozen in screams, eyes wide open.
In New York, a violet mist-like entity enveloped the Empire State Building. When the mist cleared, the entire building and every creature inside had been turned to crystal, frozen in desperate fleeing poses.
This wasn't just slaughter. This was the shattering of reality. The laws of physics were bent, life was humiliated, and hope was utterly extinguished. The declaration was correct: this was a Crucible. A crucible designed by an entity that cared not for suffering, only for results. And in this hell, people like Kai were forced to find a way not just to survive, but to evolve, even at the cost of whatever humanity they had left.
On the Trash-Dragon, Stella was like she was listening to a symphony. She sensed every fear, every destruction, every negative Essence released on Earth. A thin, cold smile spread across her face.
"See, Celeste?" – She spoke, though Celeste could not hear. "This is the true language of the universe. This is how it matures. Through pain. Through loss. By trampling its own innocence to move forward."