Consciousness didn't return to me like a gentle wave; it hit me like a physical assault.
The void hadn't had a floor, a ceiling, or a horizon. It was an endless, suffocating stretch of absolute nothingness where the only clock was the slow, heavy thrum of my own heartbeat. In that space, I wasn't Raven Desmerk, the high school failure. I wasn't even the King. I was just a flickering spark of awareness caught in a storm of absolute cold.
Then, the heat returned—and with it, the pain.
It wasn't a comfortable warmth. It was the sharp, localized fire of a fever, concentrated entirely on my chest where I had inhaled that emerald filth. It felt like my lungs had been lined with molten lead, every breath a jagged ripple of agony that forced me back into the world of the living.
I forced my eyes open.
The white ceiling of the school infirmary was the first thing I saw. It looked sterile, boring, and utterly normal—a sharp contrast to the frozen hellscape I had left behind in the Student Council office. The fluorescent lights overhead hummed with a low-frequency drone that made my skull feel like it was being vibrated by a tuning fork.
"You're awake. Twenty-two hours ahead of the System's prediction. You really are an impatient creature, aren't you?"
I didn't have to turn my head to know who was sitting there. The air in the room was so crisp I could see my own breath puffing out in small, ghostly clouds.
Elena Vance was perched on a chair beside my cot, her long, platinum-blonde legs crossed with a lethal grace. She had swapped her white leather suit for a high-end, charcoal-grey blazer that fit her like a second skin, the fabric shimmering with a faint, icy sheen. She was holding a small, silver dagger, turning it over in her hands with a rhythmic, hypnotic cadence.
"Where's... Juno?" I croaked. My throat felt like I'd been gargling broken glass. Each word was a struggle, my voice sounding more like a dry rasp than anything human.
"Your sister is in a private recovery suite at the Association headquarters," Elena said, her icy blue eyes never leaving mine. "The official story is that she suffered a 'mana-rebound' due to overexertion. Only three people know she was actually being piloted by a divine parasite. My father, the Association Director, and me."
She leaned forward, the silver dagger stopping its motion in her hand. Her face was inches from mine, her scent of winter berries and sharp spice flooding my senses, momentarily masking the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.
"And only one person saw a 'Zero' inhale that parasite like it was a midday snack."
The King's Toll
I tried to sit up, but a sharp surge of pain shot through my core, making my vision swim. I groaned, falling back onto the thin, scratchy pillow. The world tilted, and for a second, I thought I was back in the void.
[Warning: Physical Backlash in effect.]
Status Report:
Condition: Extreme Fatigue, Soul-Strain, Mana-Circuit Burn (Stage 2).
Stamina: 4/100 (Recovery Rate: Stagnant).
Internal Status: Divine Essence detected. Processing Incompatible Data...
Note: Inhaling a God's Troop has consequences. Your 'human' body is currently a battlefield between the Nova Core and the Greed Shard.
"Don't," Elena whispered. Her gloved hand reached out, pressing firmly against my chest to keep me down.
The touch was heavy, far more forceful than a simple medical check. I could feel the cold of her SSS-Rank mana seeping through the thin fabric of the infirmary gown, but beneath that chill, there was a heat—a raw, competitive tension that made my pulse skyrocket. Her fingers curled slightly, grabbing the fabric of my gown, pulling it taut against my skin. The atmosphere in the room was thick, a silent battle of wills played out in the space of a few inches.
"I don't play for the Association, Raven," she said, her voice dropping into a low, husky tone that sent a different kind of shiver down my spine. "I play for the Vance name. My father wants the King of Nova. He thinks he can find him by tracking the 'Anomaly' that wiped out those troops in the alley."
She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against my jawline. The cold radiating from her skin was intense, almost painful, but I could feel a frantic, hidden pulse of excitement radiating from her. She wasn't just investigating me; she was fascinated.
"But I think I've already found him," she whispered. "And I don't feel like sharing my toys with the Board of Directors."
She suddenly bit my lower lip—not a gentle nibble, but a sharp, claiming sting that drew a tiny bead of blood. I gasped, my hand instinctively flying up to grab her wrist. My fingers clamped down on the leather of her glove, my newfound strength—even in this weakened state—surprising both of us.
The moment I touched her, the ripple of power between us was deafening. Her icy mana clashed with the golden heat of the System still simmering in my blood, creating a localized pressure that shattered the glass water pitcher on the nightstand. Shards of glass rained onto the floor, but neither of us moved.
Elena didn't pull away. She looked at the blood on my lip and then at my eyes, her own sparking with a dangerous, hungry light. It was the look of a predator who had finally found something that wouldn't break in the first five minutes.
"That's the look," she purred, her breath ghosting over my skin. "That's the King. You're hiding so much power behind that lazy, pathetic mask. It makes me want to tear it off just to see what else is underneath. Is there a man in there, Raven? Or just a monster?"
"Careful, Princess," I hissed, my voice gaining that tectonic vibration again, the Monarch persona clawing at the back of my throat. "You might not like what you find. I'm not exactly known for being a 'gentleman' when I'm provoked, especially when I'm trying to take a nap."
"Good," she whispered, her lips curving into a smile that was all teeth. "I've always found gentlemen to be incredibly boring. They break so easily under pressure."
Divine Digestion
She stood up abruptly, smoothing out her blazer and breaking the suffocating pressure that had built between us. The air remained freezing, but the immediate threat of a mana-collision receded.
"The Association is already asking questions about the 'Ice-Nova' that hit the office," Elena said, her tone returning to its regal, distant cool as if the last two minutes hadn't happened. "I told them it was my own power reacting to a rogue assassin. They believed me because they have no reason not to. An SSS-Rank doesn't need to explain herself to C-Rank investigators."
"Why cover for me?" I asked, my mind racing through the possibilities. "You could have turned me in and been a hero. You could have handed the 'Anomaly' to your father on a silver platter."
"A hero is just a pawn with a better title," Elena said, walking toward the door. Her hips swayed with a deliberate, slow cadence, a performance she knew I was watching. "I prefer to be the player. And right now, Raven, you are the most valuable piece on the board. If the Association gets their hands on you, they'll dissect you. If the Gods get you, they'll enslave you. But if I keep you..."
She stopped at the threshold and looked back over her shoulder, her platinum hair catching the light.
"Juno is safe for now, but the God of Greed is furious. You didn't just kill his troop; you stole his 'link'. He's going to send someone much worse than a couple of masked thugs next time. You have three days before the Desmerk family hosts the Ranking Trial. If you aren't ready to show the world you aren't a Zero, you'll be dead before the first dance."
She blew me a kiss—a gesture that felt more like a death sentence than an affection—and vanished into the hallway.
The moment the door clicked shut, the System erupted in a flurry of golden text.
[Condition: Deep Sleep Overridden.]
[Analyzing Divine Essence: Greed's Needle...]
[Success! Passive Skill Unlocked: Divine Digestion.]
Skill: Divine Digestion (Rank: Unique)
Description: You can now process the essence of fallen 'Troops' and 'Gifts' to enhance your own physical and spiritual vessel.
Current Harvest: +20 Strength, +15 Agility, +10 Stamina.
Warning: Eating Gods is addictive. Don't lose your humanity in the pursuit of the Throne.
I felt it then. A heat spreading from my solar plexus to my fingertips. My bones felt like they were being reinforced with carbon fiber, and my muscles tightened with a density that felt impossible. The exhaustion didn't vanish, but it was being pushed back by a tide of pure, stolen power.
The Aftermath
I dragged myself out of the bed, my feet hitting the cold linoleum with a heavy thump. I was shaky, but the strength was there. I found my torn school uniform draped over a chair, along with a small, handwritten note on heavy, scented cardstock.
Don't be late for school tomorrow, Trash-can. I still want to see you bleed. — Serena.
"Lovely sisters I have," I muttered, pulling on my shirt.
I walked to the window. Outside, the city of Seoul was glowing, unaware of the cosmic war brewing in its alleyways. I could see the drones patrolling the skyline, their green sensors scanning for the very power I now carried in my veins.
The Playground was getting bigger. The Gods were moving. And I was no longer just the boy who faints at a mosquito bite.
[Current Stats:]
Level: 5
Strength: 41
Agility: 32
Stamina: 15/110
Mana: 0 (System Integration: 15%)
"Three days," I whispered, watching my reflection in the dark glass. My eyes flickered gold for a microsecond before fading back to brown. "Three days until the Ranking Trial. I guess I better learn how to dance."
I left the infirmary, my footsteps making a slow, rhythmic beat in the empty hallway. The silence was gone. The game had truly begun.