Pain was the first thing he felt.
Not the sharp pain of a wound.
Not the sudden pain of injury.
But a deep, suffocating pain that wrapped around his entire existence, heavy and cold, like chains buried beneath his flesh.
Then came the cold.
It clung to him, seeping into his bones, whispering that he should not wake.
That he should remain in the dark.
That it would be easier that way.
But something refused.
Something small.
Something stubborn.
Something that burned.
The boy's fingers twitched.
Air rushed into his lungs violently as his eyes snapped open.
He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts as if his body had forgotten how to breathe and was relearning it by force.
Darkness greeted him.
Not complete darkness, but the dim, flickering kind, illuminated faintly by distant flames.
He lay upon cold stone.
For several seconds, he did not move.
Did not think.
Did not understand.
Then—
Memory returned.
The red sky.
The Gate.
The creature.
Its eye.
Its claw descending toward him.
Death.
His body jerked violently as he forced himself upright, panic flooding his veins.
His eyes darted around.
Ruins.
Broken stone.
Collapsed buildings.
Ash drifting through the air.
The same dead city.
The same dead world.
"I…"
His voice cracked, dry and weak.
He was alive.
He was alive.
But why?
His hands trembled as he stared at them, turning them slowly, as if expecting them to vanish.
There was no blood.
No wound.
No mark where the creature's claw should have torn him apart.
Nothing.
The memory was clear.
It had been real.
So why—
A sound interrupted his thoughts.
A faint, distant rumble.
He froze.
Slowly, carefully, he lifted his head.
The Gate still hovered in the sky.
But it was different now.
It was fading.
Its violent crimson lightning had weakened, flickering like a dying flame.
Cracks spread across its surface, thin at first, then wider.
And then—
It shattered.
Not like glass.
But like something unreal breaking apart.
Fragments of darkness dissolved into the air, vanishing as if they had never existed.
Silence followed.
A silence so complete it felt unnatural.
Heavy.
Final.
The Gate was gone.
The creature was gone.
He was alone.
A trembling breath escaped his lips.
He did not know whether to feel relief.
Or dread.
Minutes passed.
Or perhaps hours.
Time had lost meaning.
Eventually, he forced himself to stand.
His legs were weak, unsteady beneath him, but they held.
Barely.
He staggered forward through the ruined street, his movements slow, uncertain.
Every shadow felt like it might move.
Every sound felt like it might be his last.
But nothing came.
Only silence.
Only death.
His feet carried him forward without direction.
Without purpose.
Until—
He saw it.
What remained of his home.
Or rather—
What remained of where it had once stood.
The structure was gone, replaced by a mound of shattered stone and splintered wood.
His chest tightened.
His breathing grew shallow.
"No…"
The word escaped before he realized it.
He stumbled forward, his hands reaching out instinctively, as if he could undo reality itself.
As if he could rebuild what had been destroyed.
As if he could bring them back.
His father.
His mother.
His life.
His fingers dug into the rubble, ignoring the pain as sharp edges cut into his skin.
He searched desperately.
Hopelessly.
Minutes passed.
Then—
His hand froze.
Beneath the stone, he felt something.
Soft.
Warm.
His heart stopped.
He cleared the debris frantically, his movements growing faster, more desperate.
And then—
He saw her.
Her face was pale.
Covered in dust.
Her eyes were closed.
Unmoving.
"Mother…"
His voice broke.
His hands trembled as he gently lifted her from the rubble, pulling her into his arms.
She was alive.
Her chest rose and fell faintly.
Slowly.
Weakly.
But alive.
Relief crashed into him so violently it hurt.
He clung to her, afraid that if he let go, she would disappear.
He did not know how long he stayed like that.
Seconds.
Minutes.
An eternity.
Then—
It happened.
A sound.
Not from the world.
But from within him.
A faint, clear tone.
Like glass being touched gently.
His body froze.
Before his eyes—
Light appeared.
Not from outside.
But inside his vision.
Lines of glowing symbols formed slowly, piece by piece, assembling into words he did not understand—but somehow could read.
---
**[Condition Met]**
**[Individual has survived Demonic Gate Collapse]**
**[Individual has met minimum requirements]**
**[System Initialization Beginning…]**
---
His breath stopped.
The world seemed to hold still.
The symbols flickered.
Shifted.
Expanded.
---
**[System has recognized the individual]**
**[Class Assignment Beginning…]**
---
The air around him grew warmer.
Not from flame.
Not from heat.
But from something deeper.
Something ancient.
Something that had been waiting.
Waiting for him.
Deep within his chest—
The ember stirred.