Julius stared at the letter in his hand, squeezing the paper slightly as he contemplated about his current position. His eyes narrowed as he read the date stamped at the top.
It was meant to arrive yesterday — the same day he had fallen asleep at work and never made it home.
He exhaled slowly. His mind wasn't quiet.
The Warden's Sanctuary.
The place that gathered those who awakened to magic, trained them to fight the crawlers — or so the public believed.
The Wardens were treated almost like saints, held high above the crumbling remnants of humanity.
Ever since the coming of the Evernight a hundred and five years ago, the world had been slipping into ruin. Only one continent remained — a patchwork of the survivors from other continents, forced together into a fragile, desperate alliance.
The United Nations.
The last surviving continent populated with humans.
But even that led Julius to wonder — if humanity had been squeezed onto a single continent... where had the other races come from?
He remembered reading somewhere — or maybe overhearing it in a bar — that the world wasn't a globe.
It was a cube.
Flat faces, sharp edges, endless mysteries.
Each face of the cube hosted a different race. And humanity lived, trapped on one flat side of it.
He didn't even want to think far about that one, here in the 90s, world exploration hadn't gone that far.
Julius slumped deeper into his seat, the leather of the car seat creaking under him.
The hum of the world outside was muted, distant.
He glanced at the second envelope resting beside him, the seal of a sword piercing a star gleaming faintly on it.
The symbol of the Warden's Sanctuary.
'They only send letters to the awakened,' Julius thought, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 'But... I don't feel different. How do they know?'
A cold realization prickled at the back of his neck.
If the Sanctuary could find out something so hidden that even he didn't know... what else could they know about him?
Information was power, the more they knew, the easier it was for them to deal with him.
Maybe they already had.
The hole in his chest ached slightly — a reminder that he had been targeted for failing to show up.
He tore open the second envelope with steady hands and then pulled out a simple note.
[We know you're still alive. Be at the Warden's Sanctuary in two days.
~ Warden's Sanctuary.]
Julius stared at the message.
A chuckle escaped his throat — dry and humorless.
"God, this actually made me scared," he murmured with a bitter smirk.
Why was he smiling?
Maybe because the alternative — panic, despair — felt too heavy right now.
His emotions were sluggish, like trying to wade through molasses.
Dong! Dong!
The deep, resonant sound of a church bell rolled across the streets.
Julius stiffened. He shoved the envelopes into the glove box and climbed out of the car.
The people were already gathering, all of them had their eyes lifted nervously to the sky.
He moved with the crowd, feeling the electric tension buzzing in the air.
Children clung to mothers.
Men squinted upward, shielding their faces.
He followed their gazes to the tall clock tower that stood in the distance.
A woman stood alone in the middle of the street, clutching her handbag tightly against her chest. Her lips moved soundlessly, whispering prayers that would not be heard.
A single, thin beam of red light lanced down from above and fell upon her.
It touched her like a fingertip of fire.
Her scream shattered the silence. High-pitched, raw, animalistic.
Julius looked as startled as he heard the loud screams and he turned around to see the woman burning by the strange red light.
The crowd did not move.
No one screamed.
No one ran.
They simply watched.
Silent.
Empty.
The woman's body crumpled as the red light devoured her.
First flesh, then bone.
Until nothing remained but a faint scorch mark on the ground.
It was not a unique sight, in fact this happened to several people everyday across the world, no race was spared from it.
Judgement.
The price for running out of Life Points.
Julius's throat tightened. He turned away as the smell of burned flesh reached his nose.
He stumbled back to his car and collapsed into the driver's seat.
[You have sacrificed 1 Life Point.]
[Life Points remaining – 3.]
He wiped a trembling hand over his mouth and his eyes widened a little as he stared at his hand.
'I'm shaking?' He frowned then.
Such a sight wouldn't normally be enough to faze him. He had watched doctors open up his legs during surgery more than twice, so the sight of death didn't really faze him.
What gazed him though, was the unknown. Where did that light come from? For example.
His breath fogged the window.
Outside, life continued as if nothing had happened. Everyone went about doing their work. A man even rakes the spot that was turned to glass by the red light.
Because it was normal now.
It had been normal for more a century. Ever since the first calamity descended on the world.
When the Evernight descended — humanity had been cursed.
Life Points became survival itself.
Earned by killing crawlers.
Spent on staying alive.
Those who ran dry paid the final price.
Judgement.
It wasn't the monsters that had wiped out most of humanity.
It was this... system.
This cruel new currency of existence. And he wasn't even exaggerating about this one. Life points were now the general currency in the world.
Some called that day the Half-Judgement Day — the day when humanity's sins were weighed and found wanting.
Julius leaned back in his seat, his brows raised as he felt a sweatdrop slide down his cheekbones.
The Sanctuary's warning was still lingering in his mind.
He had two days to decide.
Either to go, fight, or die.
But of course fighting was suicidal. Just look at his chest...
The fact that he wasn't even able to catch a glimpse of the one who did this to him.
He closed his eyes.
"This man is also known as Julius," he said softly, almost reverently. "What a coincidence."
He tucked the black notebook and the silver ring he found under the bottom door in a hole he dug in the past, long ago, and let the darkness pull him into uneasy sleep.
...
Julius woke up to feel his chest aching and he sat up before opening the black cloak he wore. He could see some veins cut and he noticed that he was missing a heart.
'I don't know how I'm still alive. But I have to find a way, I have no blood.' He swallowed and closed the buttons of the cloak.
Julius hissed quietly and rolled to his feet.
He kept his head low as he moved through the slums.
The stench of rot, oil, and human waste clung to the air like an invisible smog.
Cracked walls, rusted piping, and makeshift homes crowded the narrow streets.
The people here barely registered his presence. Only a few turned glanced at his clean looking coat.
But their gazes were hollow, their bodies little more than moving shadows.
At the checkpoint separating the slums from the inner city, the guards barely glanced at the worn permit Julius handed over.
They waved him through with a grunt.
The iron gates groaned as they opened.
The guards stood stiff and alert, rifles cradled in their arms.
Their deep green uniforms almost melted into the stone walls behind them.
One of the guards squinted at him, Julius didn't show any emotion and kept walking.
'The city guards, although less effective than actual wardens are more than enough to keep slum rats away. The age of steam and machinery has really fine weapons. Those guns can only shoot once at a time but the bullets are quite big...' He silently observed the long rifles which seemed to have polished wood on the outside.
He couldn't help the cynical thought that flickered across his mind:
'A warden killed by a bullet would be ironic. But I guess I can't really call myself a warden now.' A smirk formed on his lips.
Julius didn't even know if he was really a Warden yet. Could it be that the sanctuary could know before the warden awakens?
He clicked his tongue as he stepped into another sector — and immediately noted the difference.
The streets were wider here, paved with black polished stones.
Steam vents and brass piping were neatly arranged in buildings, as if the city had been stitched with deliberate precision.
Structures of marble and iron loomed overhead, their designs rigid and symmetrical, betraying an obsession with order.
Clock towers ticked in unison, their mechanical hearts exposed for all to see.
The people here dressed in tailored suits and elaborate dresses.
Brass accessories gleamed under the sun-lit sky.
Every step, every gesture, seemed rehearsed. Well, not exactly, but they all seemed full of life and Julius observed how all of them conversed like normal people.
They noticed him instantly.
His Worn boots, his rough hair and a ragged shirt underneath the fine black cloak he wore.
Whispers followed him like insects.
"He probably stole that coat right?"
Julius catalogued their reactions dispassionately.
'Judgmental glances — 73%. Open disdain — 16%. Indifference — 11%.'
It was expected.
He neither quickened nor slowed his pace.
At the plaza, he paused.
A large black-and-white screen crackled above a gathering of well-dressed citizens.
An elf — blonde, young, wielding a long sabre — fought a monstrous creature on the screen.
Despite the grainy quality, her technique was obvious: sharp, efficient, and devastatingly effective.
He watched, calculating.
'Augmented physical abilities. Swordsmanship incorporating bursts at pivot points. Standard Blessed enhancement patterns observed. She's definitely a master.' he smirked.
Around him, the crowd erupted into cheers.
"Blessed Blade!"
"Our Saint!"
Julius's eyes narrowed slightly.
'Public idolization of combatants. Useful for morale control.' A chuckle left his lips as his tired eyes looked away. 'A gate could open right above their heads.'
The elf delivered a final, clean strike.
The creature collapsed into a cloud of vapor.
Julius turned away, uninterested in the adulation.
His mind was already elsewhere — considering the Sanctuary looming ahead, the true purpose of his summoning, and the steps required for survival.
Emotion was a luxury he couldn't afford.
...
An hour later, Julius finally arrived outside a large black gate that was three meters tall.
Its dark stone walls seemed to drink in the light around it.
Creak.
The small side door eased open with a long, groaning whine.
The courtyard beyond was empty, save for the whisper of wind through the cracked stones and Mariel couldn't help but wonder where everyone was.
He hesitated.
Then, bracing himself, he stepped forward.
All of a sudden a black bag suddenly dropped over his head. He barely had time to suck in a startled breath before the world tilted and darkness swallowed him whole.