The city lights slowly dimmed as dawn swallowed the last traces of night. Morning arrived wrapped in gold.
Sunlight spilled across the vast city of Velora, washing over towers of glass and steel until they shimmered like monuments built to outlive time itself. Far below, the streets churned with restless life. Traffic flooded the wide avenues in endless streams. Horns blared without pause. Drivers leaned from their windows just to throw insults at strangers they would never meet again. Office workers hurried along sidewalks clutching paper cups of coffee like lifelines. Vendors shouted discounts from crowded corners while music drifted lazily from open storefronts.
Students crossed intersections laughing among themselves, speaking about exams, relationships and futures they still believed belonged to them.
Digital billboards pulsed overhead in brilliant color, selling dreams large enough to blind entire cities.
No one looked toward the sky and wondered how quickly a world could die.
Tucked away within a quieter side street stood a building that felt detached from the morning around it. Its windows remained dark despite the rising sun, the entrance guarded by two thick-necked men whose bored expressions hid sharp eyes. Cigarette smoke curled from between their fingers as they watched the street in silence.
Inside, the atmosphere was heavier still.
Smoke lingered beneath dim ceiling lights while several men stood around a large desk littered with cash, documents and half-empty glasses. The man seated behind it leaned comfortably into his chair, an expensive suit draped neatly over broad shoulders. A cigarette glowed between his fingers as he exhaled slowly.
"Do you understand what it means to do business with us, kid?"
His voice was calm.
Not gentle.
The calm of someone accustomed to obedience.
Smoke drifted across the table toward the boy seated opposite him.
"You've got decent goods," the man continued casually. "But the underground isn't some playground. Especially not for children."
The boy wore a black hoodie with the hood pulled low over his face. A mask concealed the rest.
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he opened the backpack resting beside him and quietly placed a gold bar onto the table.
Then another.
And another.
The metallic weight echoed softly against the wood.
Several pairs of eyes sharpened instantly.
"I need money," the boy finally said, his tone even and emotionless. "These have no use to me."
Silence settled over the room for a brief moment.
Then he added,
"I'll take seventy percent of market value. Final offer. Refuse if you want. Someone else in Velora will buy them."
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
One of the men standing nearby lost patience first. He grabbed the boy by the collar and lifted him halfway out of his seat.
"You little shi—"
"That's enough."
The dealer's voice cracked through the room like a blade.
The thug froze, jaw tightening before he reluctantly released him.
The boy landed lightly back onto the chair without resistance, calmly adjusting the sleeve of his hoodie as though nothing had happened.
That reaction made several people in the room narrow their eyes.
Too calm.
Far too calm.
The dealer stared at him for several long seconds before finally leaning back again.
"…Fine," he said at last. "For such a valuable customer, I'll make an exception."
"Cash only," the boy replied immediately.
A faint smile tugged at the dealer's lips.
He gestured toward one of his assistants, who quickly disappeared into another room.
Inside his mind, however, the dealer was already laughing.
Black-market gold was naturally undervalued by nearly thirty percent to begin with.
And this idiot had willingly accepted seventy percent of that.
A desperate amateur trying to act composed.
Nothing more.
A few moments later, the assistant returned carrying a heavy suitcase stuffed with cash.
Both parties stood.
They shook hands.
"I hope we do business again," the dealer said pleasantly.
The suitcase changed owners.
Without another word, the boy turned and walked toward the exit. The heavy door shut behind him.
The room immediately erupted into laughter.
"What an idiot," one man sneered while lighting another cigarette. "Didn't even realize he got robbed."
Another scoffed.
"Probably some rich brat selling family assets behind his parents' backs."
The dealer merely chuckled quietly, already reaching for his drink.
Outside, the city of Velora still sparkled beneath the newborn sunlight.
The boy walked calmly along the sidewalk, blending into the morning crowds before turning into a narrow alley between two buildings. The noise of the city dulled instantly around him.
Only then did he stop.
A smile slowly curved beneath the black mask.
His hand rose to his chest.
Space distorted.
A faint purple glow flickered around his fingers like cracks spreading through invisible glass.
And then—
He vanished.
The alley fell silent once more.
---
A quiet apartment welcomed him moments later.
The boy stumbled slightly as he reappeared inside the living room before dropping heavily onto the couch. He pulled back the hood and removed the mask, revealing snow-white hair that fell loosely over crimson eyes sharp enough to feel unnatural beneath the morning light.
Four suitcases already sat neatly on the table nearby.
He placed the newest beside them before grabbing a bottle of water and drinking deeply, releasing a slow breath afterward.
"…Finally."
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
"Idiots."
His crimson eyes drifted toward the gold bars still resting within the open backpack.
"Gold's gonna be cheaper than peanuts once the apocalypse starts."
1.5 million dollars.
Enough to begin.
Enough to prepare.
Enough to survive comfortably… for a while.
Leaning back against the couch, he closed his eyes briefly as exhaustion crept across his face.
"Only two weeks left…"
Outside the apartment windows, Velora continued laughing beneath the warmth of morning sunlight.
Exactly two weeks remained before the world froze.
...
In just two weeks, the world would enter an ice age.
Nobody knew for certain why it happened. Some blamed nature itself. Others pointed toward the meteor expected to strike somewhere near the North Pole around the same time. Scientists argued endlessly across broadcasts and forums, throwing theories at one another while pretending they still understood the world beneath their feet.
In the end, none of it mattered.
The result remained the same.
The global temperature would collapse so violently that entire regions would become uninhabitable almost overnight. Temperatures would plunge by nearly one hundred degrees. Cold severe enough to freeze exposed skin solid within minutes. Stepping outside without specialized thermal equipment would become a death sentence.
And the worst part... It began during winter.
At first, people believed it was simply an unusually harsh season. News stations reassured everyone daily. Governments told citizens to remain calm. Influencers joked about it online while wrapped in blankets for views. Memes spread faster than panic.
People truly believed spring would come eventually.
But it never did.
The snowfall continued.
The cold deepened.
And the world slowly died beneath white skies.
What followed became known by the survivors as the Age of Frozen Agony. Otherwise known as the...
Catastrophe X.
Several months of endless winter transformed civilization into something unrecognizable. Roads disappeared beneath mountains of ice. Entire cities froze into silent graveyards. Oceans hardened along their edges while snowstorms swallowed countries whole. Transportation became nearly impossible unless backed by military-grade equipment or awakened abilities.
Animals changed first.
No one understood how evolution could move so quickly, yet nature no longer followed rules humanity understood. Starving wolves grew larger than cars. Birds developed bone-like armor beneath their feathers. Rats bred in impossible numbers beneath the snow. Even household pets mutated under the influence of the cold.
The loyal dog sleeping beside its owner one night might tear open their throat the next morning.
Humanity adapted more slowly.
And suffered for it.
Governments attempted to maintain control in the early stages. Fortified shelters and emergency safe zones were established across major cities while officials appeared on television promising stability. Military convoys distributed supplies beneath national flags as if patriotism alone could warm frozen bones.
But trust had already shattered.
People obeyed at first because desperate people always cling to structure when the world begins collapsing around them. Yet hunger erodes faith faster than fire ever could.
Food became more valuable than money within weeks. A single pack of instant noodles could start a fight. Candy became a luxury. Clean water became treasure. People killed each other over canned goods. Families betrayed neighbors for heating fuel. Others manipulated the starving by dangling food in front of them like bait on a hook. Some traded away their dignity simply to survive another night.
Ryū had seen mothers abandon children. He had seen fathers steal from corpses. He had seen starving people smiling while poisoning one another for scraps. That was humanity during the apocalypse.
Not evil.
Just desperate.
And desperation stripped people down to their rawest instincts. But hunger alone was not the greatest threat.
The cold itself devoured civilization piece by piece.
Power plants began failing under the impossible temperatures. Maintenance crews stopped reporting to work. Frozen machinery broke apart faster than repairs could be made. Within a single week, entire electrical grids collapsed across multiple countries.
Cities went dark.
One by one.
Fortunately, modern satellite systems had been designed to endure catastrophic conditions such as this one, allowing parts of the internet to survive longer than anyone expected. In areas where communication towers remained functional, signals still flickered weakly through the storm. Fiber-optic infrastructure beneath the oceans also continued operating in many regions, insulated deep beneath freezing waters that were already naturally hostile to human life.
But surface infrastructure suffered endlessly.
Damaged towers... Collapsed relay stations... Frozen cables... Entire areas of the world vanished from communication altogether.
People trapped inside those dead zones became isolated from everything beyond their own streets.
Eventually, governments tried to reclaim control.
They launched campaigns promising recovery. Broadcasts urged citizens not to lose hope. Officials spoke about rebuilding society, about restoring order, about unity.
Nobody believed them anymore.
Because by then, survival had become personal. Humanity had been reduced to individuals protecting whatever little warmth they still possessed. The world no longer belonged to nations... Only survivors.
That was the fate of humanity when forced into nature's domain.
Humans could bend steel, split atoms, build cities that touched the clouds.
But nature remained older than all of it.
Vaster.
Crueler.
A silent goddess beneath whose laws every living thing eventually bowed its head.
And when civilization collapsed, only one rule remained.
Survival of the fittest.
Yet even that was not the end.
As the cold spread across the planet, humans themselves began changing.
Some developed unnatural strength. Others awakened abilities impossible under normal logic. elemental manipulation. Enhanced senses. Spatial distortions. Mutations that blurred the line between biology and the supernatural.
But these powers did not appear randomly.
Conditions had to be fulfilled. And then came the system. Not with thunder. Not with divine music. It simply… appeared.
Silent.
Calling itself the Cosmic Will.
No one understood where it came from. No god descended from the heavens to explain its existence. No voice announced itself to the world. The system revealed itself only to individuals after they killed a mutated creature for the first time.
Those people became Players. Registered existences recognized by the system itself.
Through it, they gained access to abilities, resources, equipment and powers far beyond ordinary humans.
At first, nobody realized what was happening.
A man would kill a monster in one city and suddenly awaken alone. A woman would survive an attack somewhere else and receive strange notifications no one around her could see. The awakenings happened individually, secretly, scattered across the world like sparks in darkness. If someone became the first person on Earth to kill a monster, then the system would awaken for them alone.
Everyone else remained blind until they fulfilled the same condition. And once awakened individuals realized the power they possessed…
The balance of the world shattered completely.
The strong preyed upon the weak without hesitation. Armed with supernatural abilities inside a collapsing civilization, many Players abandoned morality almost immediately. Bloodshed spread through the frozen world faster than the snow itself.
Power created monsters just as efficiently as the apocalypse did.
---
How did kid know all of this?
Simple.
Because he had already lived through it once.
His name was Ryū Mizuhara.
A survivor of the apocalypse.
Or rather… a survivor who should have died.
Before returning to this point in time, Ryū had endured over five months within that frozen hell. He witnessed cities collapse. Watched people devour one another for scraps. Saw countless deaths until they eventually stopped feeling human.
And in the end…
He died powerless.
A group of awakened Players barged into the apartment where he and his partner had been hiding. People from the same apartment complex. The same building.
Even the same floor.
People he once greeted casually in elevators.
To them, he had been nothing more than disposable trash. Ryū fought back desperately. In the middle of the struggle, after managing to kill one of them, a system notification suddenly appeared before his eyes for the very first time.
An offer.
Recognition.
The chance to become a Player. For a single moment, his attention faltered.
That was enough.
A massive hand pierced through his chest before he even realized what had happened.
Bones shattered.
Warm blood flooded his lungs.
His heart was crushed inside his body as he collapsed onto the floor.
Dying.
The system window continued flickering weakly before his fading vision, glitching as it attempted to register his death. And just before consciousness slipped away entirely…
With the last of his strength…
Ryū whispered:
"Yes."
The system accepted him.
Too late to save him. But not too late for something else.
Because just as darkness consumed him completely—
He woke up.
In his bed.
At first, he couldn't understand what he was seeing.
The ceiling... The warmth... The silence... No screams...
No Chaos.
Panic seized him instantly as he stumbled upright, breathing unevenly while staring around the room. Everything looked wrong. Different. Alive.
Then his eyes landed on the calendar hanging beside the wall.
And his entire body froze.
Five months earlier.
Two weeks before the first snowfall.
For several minutes, Ryū genuinely believed he had gone insane.
Had everything been a dream?
A hallucination born from fear and starvation?
No.
Because even now…
The translucent blue system panel still hovered quietly before his eyes.
Its pale light reflected within his crimson gaze as a message remained suspended in the air.
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