The sky was burning.
Black clouds twisted over the city, opening like a wound in the firmament. From that abyss descended a colossal creature, with wings made of bone and burning flesh. Each wingbeat unleashed a wave of fire that melted the buildings. The elite mages shouted orders, launched spells, desperately murmured sacred names that were useless.
And amidst all the chaos, someone walked calmly.
He was a thin young man, around eighteen. His hair fell in messy locks of green, white, and red, shining through the smoke as if the firelight adored it. His clothes were torn, but his posture was relaxed, almost lazy. His eyes were half-closed, as if the end of the world made him sleepy.
"Another one of these?" he murmured in a calm voice. "I've lost count already."
The hunters fleeing looked at him as if he were crazy. "Get away, you idiot! That's a Rank A Shinju! It'll devour you!"
"Oh," the boy replied, shrugging. "A little excitement wouldn't bother me, honestly."
The Shinju roared, its split jaw revealing a crimson glow within its throat. The air warped. And then it launched its final attack: an explosion of celestial fire that devoured everything in its path.
The ground shook. The roar was so immense the buildings bent like paper.
When the smoke cleared, the monster remained motionless. A crack ran through its body, from top to bottom. The colossus fell to its knees, and its flesh began to disintegrate into dust of light.
From its remains, a crystalline pyramid emerged, floating, slowly spinning. An ancient symbol glowed at its center. And beneath it, standing, completely unharmed, was the boy.
His name was Alex.
The fire reflected something unsettling on his skin: From his shoulders to the tips of his fingers, his arms were red, fleshy, as if they lacked human skin, and each muscle pulsed with a living energy. They were the hands of a beast. Of something that shouldn't exist.
Alex looked at them for a moment. Then he stuffed them into his pockets as if nothing had happened.
"Tch… I still can't control them well," he sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter. No one's going to believe it anyway."
Around him, hunters emerged from the rubble, staring at him in disbelief. "Who the hell… are you?" one asked, trembling.
Alex yawned and looked at the sky, where the portal from which the Shinju had emerged was beginning to close. "Me?" he said with a lazy smile. "I'm just the strongest in the world."
The silence was absolute. The monster's pyramid still floated before him, waiting to be taken. But Alex looked at it for a second and turned away without touching it.
"I don't need it."
The wind blew, carrying the Shinju's ashes, and the color of his hair—green, white, and red—shone amidst the devastation like a mockery of the heavens.