The tunnel was quiet now. The only sounds left were the slow, shaky breaths we took and the soft crackle of dying embers beneath crushed carapace. Our limbs ached, our bodies were soaked in blood—some of it ours, most of it not. Around us, thirty mutilated chimera ant corpses lay twitching or still, painting the earth in their own filth.
And in the center of it all, he lay there—our light.
E999. Our protector. Our purpose.
He had collapsed right after the last ant died, his voice echoing in our ears even now.
"Goodbye."
But that wasn't an end. It was a promise.
Julius knelt beside his fallen body, fingers pressed lightly to E999's pulse. Still beating. Strong. Just sleeping.
Relief flooded us.
Even though Julius was the youngest among us, there was no doubt in our minds—he was our leader. He always had been. In the chaos of the fight, it was his voice we heard above the screeches. His plans we followed. His calm in the eye of the storm.
Belial said it first. "Julius is like a compass. Always knows where to go."
Azazel, wiping gore from his eyes, just nodded. "He sees things we don't. Fast."
Apollyon didn't speak, but she reached out and held Julius's hand for a moment. That said enough.
We knew what had to be done. E999 needed rest. And we… we had to prove our worth. Not just to him. But to ourselves. That we weren't weak. That we were worthy of his blood, his strength, his guidance.
We began moving in silence.
Julius gave orders with hand signals. Belial and Azazel started dragging ant corpses into a pile for processing. Apollyon unsheathed the obsidian dagger she had picked from the ruined village—a wicked curved blade with a crimson jewel embedded near the hilt. It pulsed faintly in her grip, as if hungry.
We began the harvest.
We remembered what he taught us. Neurocores first.
Crack the thorax just below the second segment. Dig past the sinew. Feel for the warmth—that was the core. Faintly glowing, egg-like in shape. We popped them out one by one. Some pulsed like dying hearts. Others had already begun to cool.
Julius sorted them carefully. Twenty-three intact.
Belial grinned. "Enough to feed him when he wakes."
Then came the rest.
We used the dagger to carve through their bellies. Chimera ants were monsters, but they had edible parts if you knew where to look. Leg meat. Thorax fillet. Certain organs stored nutrients. The dagger moved through flesh like it was water.
SCHLIK. SCHRAK. SQUELCH.
The smell of blood was everywhere.
At one point, Apollyon slipped, her hand slicing through a vein and spraying herself in acid-rich fluids. She didn't flinch. Julius quickly rinsed it with water from his pouch and pressed cloth to the burn.
"Be careful," he whispered.
Apollyon only nodded.
After a while, we'd gathered enough meat. The parts were stacked neatly beside E999's resting form.
But… we weren't done.
We had to know something. Something we hadn't spoken aloud yet, even to each other.
We needed to know if he… remembered us.
We'd died before. Or something like it. We weren't sure. Memories were fragments—images of screams, fire, a tall shadow holding us.
So we pretended.
When he'd spoken to us after saving us, we'd played dumb. Blank expressions. No names. No questions. Just watched him.
It was a risk.
If he saw us as strangers, he might've abandoned us.
But he didn't.
He shared food.
He spoke gently.
He shielded us with his own body.
And when the chimera ants came, he didn't run. He stood in front of us. Fought like a demon. Fell like a god.
That's when it happened.
The blood he had given us—the first taste—burned inside. Like something deep in our bones awoke.
We remembered.
Not clearly. Not fully. But we knew.
He wasn't just someone who saved us.
He was our flame.
Our light in this endless dark.
Julius said it best. "He didn't need to say anything. He showed us."
With the corpses stripped and the Neurocores stored, we turned to the next task: survival.
We built a fire using broken chitin for kindling and torn cloth as a base. The fire sputtered, then roared. We used antennae and sharpened limbs as makeshift skewers, threading slices of ant meat through them.
The smell was odd. Musky. Bitter. But hunger had long stripped us of pickiness.
We roasted the meat over the flame.
SIZZLE.
Pop.
Drip.
We sat in a circle. Julius near E999's head. Apollyon to his right. Belial and Azazel opposite.
The fire cracked softly, and for the first time, we weren't fighting. Weren't running.
We were… together.
Belial broke the silence. "Do you think he knows?"
Julius looked up. "Knows what?"
"That we'd die for him."
Azazel chuckled darkly. "He probably expects it."
Apollyon smiled faintly. "Then we'll do more. We'll live for him too."
The words settled over us like a blanket.
We began eating, chewing slowly. The meat was tough, but filling. It would keep us strong.
Between bites, we shared what little memories we had.
"I think… I used to climb buildings," Azazel muttered.
Belial shrugged. "I liked knives. Still do."
Apollyon simply said, "I remember screaming. Then… silence. Then him."
Julius didn't say much. Just looked into the fire, eyes reflecting the flames.
We didn't need to remember everything.
We remembered enough.
And what we had now mattered more.
After the food was gone, we cleaned the area. Kept the dagger sheathed. Packaged the cores in cloth. Kept watch in pairs while the others rested.
But before we ate—before the fire's warmth reached our bones—we made sure of one thing.
Julius had taken the best cut. A thick, tender slab from the ant's inner thorax. Carefully roasted it over the cleanest flame. Not too burnt, not too rare. He seasoned it with crushed leaf and mineral dust from a pouch E999 had carried.
Then, he placed it on a flat stone beside his sleeping form.
Belial folded a torn bit of cloth over it to keep it warm.
His share," Azazel muttered. "He deserves more than we do."
No one argued.
But always, always… our eyes drifted back to him.
To the way he breathed. The calm on his face, even in unconsciousness.
He had no idea how much he meant.
But we did.
Julius whispered it, when we thought he was asleep.
"We'll follow him. To the end."
We didn't speak it aloud, but we all agreed.
In this twisted world of monsters and blood, he was the only thing we trusted.
And when he woke… we'd be ready to fight again.together.
E999 stood alone in absolute darkness.
It wasn't new. The emptiness, the weightless stillness pressing against his soul—it was familiar. Like an old friend, or perhaps an ancient wound that refused to fade. He looked around, though there was nothing to see. No light, no air, no shape. Just him.
Again… I'm back here.
But this time, something shifted.
The dark twisted. Ripples ran through it like cracks in glass. The nothingness peeled back—and then, the world formed.
A battlefield.
Endless, broken, scorched land. The sky above bled golden and red, like war had torn heaven open. Fire rained from above, and beneath his feet lay shattered blades and bones of angels, demons, and men alike.
Lucien looked at his hands and froze.
They were not his.
These hands—long, pale, elegant—trembled with restrained wrath. Veins of divine light ran under the skin. He turned slowly.
To his left, a glowing circle floated midair, divine energy humming from its core.
He knew this sight.
And then he saw Him.
The God of Light.
It hit him—this was no dream. He was looking through Lucifer's eyes. This was the memory of that ancient war, the one the Vampire Elder had spoken of. The War of Rebellion. The Last Stand of the Morningstar.
Lucien could feel the weight of the divine blade in his right hand. The wings of celestial flame at his back. The fury and heartbreak that pulsed in Lucifer's chest. He watched—saw how the God of Light descended, righteous and merciless. How Lucifer roared in defiance. How their clash cracked the multiverse itself.
And then it happened.
The final strike.
Lucifer was struck down—his body exploding into light and shadow, fragments of divine wrath scattering like cursed stars across the worlds.
So this is what happened... He didn't die. He shattered.
Lucien wanted to see more—he tried to hold on to the vision—but the darkness pulled him back. The battlefield dissolved into black.
He was alone again.
But something changed.
Heat.
An overwhelming, soul-deep heat began to burn from within. His body—wherever it was—was changing. Evolving. Molten energy coursed through his veins. He felt every cell in his body scream, shift, and adapt.
And yet, amidst all that… one thought lingered in his mind.
How was the kid scooping?
That random, almost comical thought made him laugh—just a breath, in the blackness. And then—
Snap.
His eyes opened.
The scent hit first—burnt scales and… meat. Roasted meat.
His vision cleared. The dim firelight danced across the stone tunnel. Smoke curled lazily toward the cracked ceiling. And beside him lay the children.
Azazel sat upright, silent, watching the darkness like a sentinel.
Lucien blinked, then smiled faintly. He reached out and tapped the boy's shoulder. "Boy," he murmured, voice rough. "Time to sleep. I'll take over."
Azazel turned, eyes bright with relief. He gave a small nod, then lay down without a word. His trust was total.
Lucien stood, joints stiff but strong. He walked over to the fire, where a pile of roasted meat rested on flattened stones. He knelt.
They'd kept his share.
He took one, bit into it—smoky, tender, laced with just enough char. He chewed slowly, savoring it.
How the hell did they learn to slice and roast this well? He didn't remember teaching them. Maybe they watched him. Or maybe…
They just adapted.
He shook the thought away. They had done well. That was enough.
He finished eating, then sat with his back to the wall and opened his system.
°~[ Open: Status.]~°
The blue light shimmered across his vision as the status screen appeared.
•∆STATUS∆•
°~[Name: Lucien Morningstar]~°
°~[Level: 12]~°
°~[Title: The One Who Overcame Adversity]~°
°~[Job: N/A]~°
°~[HP: 150]~°
°~[MP: 150]~°
°~[STR: 100]~°
°~[AGI: 100]~°
°~[PER: 100]~°
°~[VIT: 100]~°
°~[INT: 150]~°
°~[Fatigue:0]~°
°~[Free Attribute Points:0]~°
Lucien nodded. No complaints. His stats had climbed higher than most A-rankers he'd fought.
But he wasn't done.
He reached into his pouch and pulled out the Vampire Elder's core—black, crystalline, pulsing with crimson light. It felt ancient. Alive.
He threw it into his mouth without hesitation.
It cracked, melted, and flowed down his throat like fire. A light burst from within, illuminating his insides in a pale white glow.
Energy surged through him. Strength. Power.
The system chimed.
°~[Consumed a condensed crystal core of a thousand years old vampire, plus 50 to all stats]~°
Lucien grinned.
He reached for a NeuroCore and tossed it into his mouth. It melted… but nothing happened.
Confused, he growled, "What the hell is going on again?"
The system answered calmly:
°~[The host has leveled up beyond the NeuroCore's abilities, so the host cannot gain any increase in stats from the NeuroCore. Although, the host can eat the NeuroCore to just increase his physique, giving him extra energy]~°.
"Pftt." He spit to the side. "What a waste."
Still, he collected the rest of the NeuroCores. The kids could use them, he thought. To them, they're still priceless.
Then he focused again and pulled up the rest of the screen.
°~[Aether Sight]~°
°~[Description: This skill lets you see hidden things in reality. You can check a target's stats, strengths, and weaknesses. Look past what's outside and see what they really are.]~°
°~[Regeneration]~°
°~[Description: Grants the user the ability to rapidly heal wounds, regenerate lost tissue, and recover from injuries that would otherwise be fatal. At higher levels, regeneration can restore limbs, purge poisons, and even revive the user from near-death states. (30 MP for full body recovery).]~°
°~[IMMUNITY]~°
°~[Description: For a brief period, the user becomes entirely immune to negative status effects, including poison, paralysis, madness, dark magic, and curses. Completely nullifying the threat.]~°
°~[Skill Name: Phantom Mirage]~°
°~[Phantom Mirage allows the user to create up to three deceptive afterimages of attacks—punches, blades, and kicks—that confound enemies and obscure their true movements. Each afterimage mirrors the original, lasts a few seconds, and provides a tactical advantage for repositioning and exploiting openings. The phantoms have a translucent quality with shimmering trails, enhancing the illusion and disorienting foes. Users must strategically manage their limited afterimages, requiring agility and tactical thinking for effective mastery.]~°
°~[Skill Name: Temporal Storage]~°
°~[Temporal Storage grants the user the extraordinary ability to store non-living objects in a pocket dimension where time is effectively frozen. Within this space, items remain untouched and unchanging, allowing for safe keeping or retrieval without the passage of time affecting them. Users can store various items—from weapons and supplies to treasures—ensuring they remain in perfect condition until needed. This skillnot only facilitates inventory management but also provides strategic advantages in combat or exploration by allowing the user to access stored items at critical moments without any time constraint.]~°
He opened the Storage Tab—it was empty.
No time to waste.
He stood, walked to the side where he'd left his rarely-used sword—the blade once wielded by the Vampire Elder. He picked it up, held it tight, and mumbled:
"Store."
The weapon shimmered, then disappeared from his hands.
He opened the tab again—and there it was. Floating in the void of Temporal Storage.
Lucien's eyes widened.
He whispered, "Retrieve."
The sword appeared in his palm, as if it had never left.
He stared at it. Then smiled. Then stored it again.
This… this changes everything.
He leaned back against the wall, eyes on the fire, the soft breathing of the sleeping children around him.
For once, in this hellish world of flesh and blood and madness—Lucien Morningstar was ready and changed he noticed he was no longer hollow Lucifer has influenced him to care as a true God to care for his followers not only himself.