[Timer: 98:55:11]
It appeared out of nowhere. A nightmare vomited from the bowels of hell to walk the earth.
Its descent wasn't normal; it looked as if the very fabric of space had regurgitated it into the narrow alleyway to announce the death of sanity. It was a wolf-like abomination, mutated in a way that defied all laws of nature and terrestrial biology.
It was the size of a massive SUV, its broad, armored body blocking any escaping light.
It lacked the prominent fangs of a normal wolf. Instead, it possessed a bloated, grotesque head, throbbing with thick, black veins that coiled beneath its skin like parasitic snakes. Its body was covered in coarse fur and calcified, armor-like scales.
Its long, thick claws resembled twisted scythe blades, dripping an acidic drool that melted the asphalt beneath it with a terrifying hiss, leaving smoking craters in its wake.
The beast stood at the alley's entrance, blocking the only escape route. A gatekeeper of death waiting for its prey to flinch.
Anyone else—any human who had lived a normal, warm life and tasted the sweetness of safety—would have screamed hysterically. They would have frozen in absolute terror until their heart stopped and their limbs locked.
But the young man, standing in the pitch black, didn't move an inch. He didn't even blink.
He had forgotten the meaning of fear a very long time ago. That emotion was buried right alongside his stolen innocence.
How could an alien beast terrify him when he had been tortured, crushed, and stripped of his dignity time and time again in the desolate, dark alleys of Seoul? He already knew monsters. They just wore luxury suits and police uniforms.
He remembered the brutal gang beatings that shattered his ribs on freezing winter nights. The batons of corrupt cops who deafened his ears when he tried to report his shelter being robbed. The rich students who used him as a human punching bag for pure entertainment. The random kicks from drunks emptying their frustrations onto his frail body.
All of that didn't just break his bones; it completely murdered the "human" inside him, leaving behind an empty, emotionless vessel.
Yet, in this exact moment, as the beast coiled its muscles for a lethal pounce, something twitched within his dead depths.
It wasn't some naive hope for a better tomorrow. It was a pure, primal, selfish, and savage instinct to survive.
This time, he didn't want to die. He needed to live to seize his absolute chance in this new world taking shape before him. A world where the rules of the rich and poor had just collapsed into dust, leaving only the law of blood and predation.
With astonishing, animalistic speed that far surpassed normal human reflexes, the young man slid toward a broken drainage grate in the corner of the dark alley—a secret hideout he used in the past.
He threw his thin body into the dark tunnels of the sewer system, landing hard in stagnant, foul-smelling water. He didn't pause to catch his breath. He sprinted into the pitch black with fast, calculated steps, like a rat navigating its own maze.
Directly above him, the mutated wolf roared. It tried to follow him through the grate, but its massive, heavily armored body couldn't fit through the narrow opening.
It furiously clawed at the asphalt, trying to shatter the concrete to reach its prey. Its furious snarls shook the street until its highly sensitive ears picked up another sound...
Easier prey. Prey that wasn't hiding in a tunnel.
Driven by bloodlust, the wolf abandoned the young man and moved toward the end of the adjacent alley where the sound originated.
There, behind a rusted metal dumpster, a young mother was hiding. She clutched her infant tightly to her chest, trembling like a wet bird awaiting its slaughter.
The mother screamed with everything she had when her terrified eyes met the beast's cold, yellow gaze.
In a desperate, noble maternal reflex, she threw her body over her baby, acting as a shield of soft flesh, praying the beast would satiate its hunger and spare her child.
But in the world of "Ascension" that was currently grinding the Earth to dust, sacrifice meant absolutely nothing. It saved no one.
The beast raised its scythe-claw with absolute apathy. Without a single moment of hesitation...
Swish!
In one strike—fast as lightning and sharp as a guillotine—the mother's head was severed from her trembling body.
It rolled slowly across the filthy asphalt, stopping right next to the infant. The baby erupted into blind, hysterical crying, completely unaware that the hot liquid bathing him was his mother's blood.
The crying didn't last long enough to awaken any conscience.
The wolf opened its wide, acid-dripping jaws. In one horrifying bite, it swallowed the infant whole, along with the mother's severed head. It unleashed an ecstatic roar, intoxicated by the thrill of the hunt, shaking the abandoned walls of the alleyway.
From behind another nearby dumpster, two homeless children watched this nightmare unfold with their own eyes.
They didn't scream. They didn't try to run. Terror had completely paralyzed them, stripping them of the ability to speak or think.
They soiled themselves from sheer panic, their eyes dilated so wide they nearly popped from their sockets. They couldn't even catch their breath, as if the oxygen itself had become toxic.
Meanwhile, this blood-soaked alley and this horrific massacre were but a tiny drop in a vast ocean of blood that was drowning the entire planet.
News of the cosmic invasion shook the globe in a matter of minutes. Military forces mobilized from their fortified barracks in every nation.
Sirens wailed in every capital, turning the night into day with the glare of military emergency searchlights. Tanks, fighter jets, and millions of soldiers were deployed into the streets in a desperate bid to absorb the shock.
But what good are assault rifle bullets, or even armor-piercing tank shells, against entities capable of obliterating entire skyscrapers with a single swipe of a tail or claw?
Humanity's conventional weapons—the pride of armies and the drain of national budgets—were pathetic and entirely useless. It was a bad joke. Like splashing a glass of water on a raging volcano. A desperate, pitiful attempt against merciless cosmic wrath.
[Timer: 98:00:00]
The first hour passed.
Just one hour. Sixty minutes of uninterrupted hell was enough to topple over a thousand cities worldwide, leveling them to the ground as if they had never been the cradles of civilization.
Faced with this rapid, inevitable collapse that threatened the absolute extinction of the human race before sunrise, a few superpowers made the worst—and only—decision left in their arsenals.
The Nuclear Option.
Intercontinental ballistic missiles launched from hidden silos and deep-sea submarines, striking the massive clusters of monsters in the fallen cities. It was a desperate solution. A double-edged sword that slashes the wielder's throat before the enemy's.
Millions of monsters were vaporized in blinding white fireballs that kissed the stratosphere. Yes.
But with them, entire cities were vaporized. Their buildings, their history, and the millions of trapped humans were wiped from existence, leaving behind only molten glass craters erased from the map.
The atmosphere choked on lethal radiation. The blue sky turned a sickly, oppressive gray. Clouds rained black nuclear ash, covering the earth like a vast shroud.
Yet, all this mutual destruction failed to halt the march of the beasts. They continued to pour from the spatial rifts like an inexhaustible demonic flood.
Ding!
[Timer: 97:59:50]
Only one hour had passed... and humanity was already writing its final line in blood and ash.