Wanasura Village had fallen silent. No screams. No footsteps. Only ash drifted through the air, like remnants of memories that refused to fade. From the sky, a figure descended slowly. It stood amidst the floating ash, like a being not entirely of this world.
Its skin was a pale shade of purple—not the natural tone of any living creature. The surface appeared smooth, yet in certain places faint cracks could be seen, as if its body contained an energy it could not fully control. Its hair was white, messy, without pattern. Strands fell irregularly across its face, giving the impression that it had no concern for appearance.
The figure wore a white blazer over a light colored, shirt—clothing that looked refined, almost like that of an academic or a future leader from a higher realm. An identity suggesting it had once been, or was being prepared to become, something greater, an Archangel.
A black cloak hung from its body. Not truly attached. Not entirely real. It moved slowly, like smoke following an unseen current. This being was a Seraphis. His name is Matelo.
"I have been given a task…" Matelo murmured softly.
"To choose the right selected individual."
Its steps halted. It had found something, a presence. Behind the ruins lay a body. Matelo could feel a faint trembling soul, a lingering will… a desire for revenge. That emotion was strong, refusing to disappear. Matelo knelt beside the body.
"This corpse is interesting," it said.
It observed the man's burned skin, the missing left hand. Matelo could tell—this had once been a knight. "Even after your soul has died… you still cling to hatred."
Without another word, Matelo raised its hand. Light gathered. Then, Sancaka body jerked. A rough breath forced its way out as life was pushed back into him. "Ghhk!!"
Sancaka coughed, blood spilling from his mouth. His vision blurred. Pain still coursed through his body. Slowly, he looked around. Houses… buildings… all burned.
"What… happened…?" he muttered weakly.
Then he saw someone standing before him—something that did not feel human. Matelo stood calmly. "You died earlier. And I have just brought you back to life."
Silence fell. Sancaka mind struggled to piece everything together.
Then his eyes widened. Fragments of memory returned—fire, screams, lightning… and finally, his family. His breathing grew heavy. "My family… they're dead." Sancaka said.
"Correct." Matelo replied shortly.
Sancaka body trembled. He stared at the being before him. "You… what are you?" he asked.
"I am a messenger of the Sky Gods," Matelo answered. "And I am here to choose you as one of the selected individuals."
A card appeared before Sancaka. It hovered briefly before descending into his hand. The moment his fingers touched it, words appeared "Eliminate all Dharma." Sancaka stared at the message. His grip tightened.
"So… I can kill them," he said.
"Yes. The Sky Gods want the selected individuals to eliminate all Dharma," Matelo replied.
"Good." Sancaka stood up, his gaze sharpening. "I accept."
As the card bound itself to Sancaka, Matelo's body began to fade.
"Good. I hope you can carry out your task comfortably."
And then, Matelo vanished.
1
Sancaka stood alone once more. But something had changed. He looked at his left hand. A memory surfaced—before he died, it had been severed. Now, it was there again. But it was pitch black… and pulsing, as if alive.
"Why… is my left hand like this?" Suddenly, A weapon appeared in his right hand.
A sword fused with a cylindrical mechanism. A gunblade.His eyes widened slightly.
"So… this is my power now."
From afar, movement could be heard. Bhayangkara knights. Still scavenging the remains of the destroyed village. Sancaka's gaze sharpened. His breathing slowed.
His killing instinct awakened.
"So some of them are still here…"
His grip tightened around the gunblade.
"Good. Time to test my new abilities."
1
In an instant, Sancaka vanished from where he stood.
A gunshot shattered the silence of the ash-covered village.
"Gunburst Shot."
One of the Bhayangkara knights staggered. Before a flash of steel struck.
"Flash Cleave."
Blood sprayed. The other knights reacted, Too late.
One among them attempted magic, gathering energy and launching it toward Sancaka.
Sancaka raised his left hand.
"…Come here."
The swirling energy was pulled—then devoured.
Sancaka closed the distance.
"Devour Grasp."
Screams erupted as their power was forcibly drained. His blade moved once—clean, final.
"Grave Sever."
Silence.
One by one, the Bhayangkara knights collapsed—without resistance.
1
Time passed. The sun began to set. Over the ruined Wanasura Village, nothing remained but ash. Mounds of earth rose one by one.
Sancaka buried them with his own hands. Those who had fallen in the tragedy. His father. His mother. His sibling. And the rest of Wanasura's villagers. When it was done, he stood in silence. The wind carried the remaining ash.
"I will never forgive them," Sancaka said, his fists tightening.
"I will hunt them down."
His eyes darkened.
"I will kill every Dharma."
From that moment on.
Sancaka became a Hero Killer.