Four thousand years ago — 2026.
An asteroid struck Mercury with such force that the planet didn't just crack — it shattered. Entire sections of it were thrown into space, glowing fragments spinning into the dark.
Some of them came toward Earth.
For days, people watched streaks of fire cut across the atmosphere. At first, it was beautiful.
Then the impacts began.
Cities disappeared under explosions brighter than sunrise. Oceans rose in violent waves. Smoke covered continents. Human civilization didn't collapse in a single moment — it bled out slowly, painfully.
But it didn't die.
When the dust settled, survivors stood in a world that no longer felt divided. Borders meant nothing when extinction had nearly claimed everyone equally. The old arguments faded. Race, religion, nationality — none of it mattered the way survival did.
Rebuilding took time.
Trust took longer.
But by the year 2110, the name became official.
United Earth.
It was not perfect. Not peaceful all the time. But it was united enough to stand together when it mattered.
And it mattered again.
In the year 3666, strange distortions began appearing across the planet.
They shimmered like heat above asphalt, except they hovered in open air. Sensors struggled to read them. Drones sent through either vanished or came back broken.
Until one day, someone stepped through and returned alive.
On the other side were other worlds.
Real planets with alien skies and unfamiliar gravity. Forests too dense. Mountains too sharp. Creatures too large.
Those distortions were named Nexus Gates.
And the space cluster that held Earth and those surrounding worlds became known as the Genesis Nexus.
The first explorers quickly learned something important.
The creatures in the Nexus were not ordinary animals.
When one was killed, a crystal remained inside its body.
A Nexus Shard.
Some called them Beast Shards.
At first, scientists treated them like rare minerals. Energy sources. Curiosities.
Then someone absorbed one.
The moment the shard dissolved into their body, something appeared in front of their eyes.
A translucent interface.
Floating.
Silent.
Real.
No one built it. No one programmed it. But it appeared for anyone who absorbed a shard.
People started calling it the Power Screen.
Numbers filled it. Physical output. Energy levels. Growth indicators.
And with absorption came measurable strength — Power Points.
Muscles grew denser. Bones hardened. Reflexes sharpened. Stamina deepened. It wasn't monstrous mutation. It was amplification.
From that day on, those who entered Nexus Gates weren't just explorers.
They were called Evolvers.
Because they stepped beyond normal human limits.
But Power Points weren't the only mystery.
Every time an Evolver killed a beast inside the Nexus, the Power Screen flickered.
Every single time.
A brief flash of light.
A notification.
Most kills showed something simple:
If gained
[Beast Spirit Acquired: Name of the beast]
If not gained
[Beast Spirit Acquired: None]
No one knew the exact conditions. No pattern could be confirmed. Two people could kill the same species and receive different outcomes.
What they did understand was this:
A Beast Spirit was not physical at first.
It existed as an astral presence — a shadow of the creature's essence. When acquired, it didn't appear in the real world. It settled somewhere deeper.
Inside the Sea of Consciousness.
The Sea of Consciousness was the inner mind of an Evolver. A limitless mental space awakened after absorbing the first shard. Some described it as an endless ocean. Others as a star-filled void. A few said it reflected the owner's heart.
Beast Spirits rested there.
Dormant. Silent.
Waiting.
With a mental command, they could be manifested.
Some appeared as translucent beasts standing behind their owner.
Some merged partially, enhancing limbs or senses.
Some could take full physical form and fight.
They had types.
They had classifications.
Governments tried to categorize them. Scientists tried to explain them.
No one truly understood them.
But every Evolver knew the feeling when the Power Screen flickered after a kill.
That half-second pause.
That silent hope.
Because maybe, this time, it wouldn't say "None."
On United Earth, seventeen marked adulthood.
Before that, entering a Nexus Gate required a Maturity Card — a special permit earned through knowledge exams, psychological evaluation, and stability tests. The Nexus was not a playground. It was survival.
With a Maturity Card, even a minor could step through a Gate. Hunt. Train. Earn Power Points.
Risk their life.
Power was no longer inherited by bloodline or wealth.
It was earned.
Most people gained enough to live comfortably.
A few rose higher.
And once in a long while—
someone appeared who changed everything.
And that someone appeared in year 6651.
In that year, a family was born.
Not of blood.
But of bonds.
They didn't have a grand name. No emblem. No legacy carved in history.
They didn't need one.
Year — 6652.
That was the year humanity noticed them.
Four people stood against the horizon of the Nexus — two women, two men.
Young.
Unmatched.
Talented beyond reason.
As the years passed, they became the strongest among their generation.
And behind them, other members of that family began their own journeys.
The world would one day remember their names.
But at the beginning—
They were simply a family.