Six hours earlier.
I was never meant to be here.
That's what I told myself every morning as I passed through the gate of Zone-3R's outer ward. Technically still part of Manhattan, but barely. The district was scarred—dungeon-burnt streets that twisted like shattered bones, buildings half-collapsed, with creeping vines of corrupted mana seeping from cracks in the pavement. Most of it was overrun with underfunded guilds, outcast shelters, and reconstruction efforts that looked more like hopeful graffiti than actual repairs.
Perfect for someone like me—someone with no rank, no class, no future.
Unranked.
Not F. Not E. Not even registered.
Everyone awakened at some point. Most before they turned eighteen, some after twenty. But I was twenty-three, and the system still hadn't touched me. No floating status window. No mana signature flaring in the ether. No class announcement lighting up my skull like a damn fireworks show. Nothing but the ring.
The ring. My constant companion, fused to the flesh of my finger like a curse I couldn't shake. Black as a starless night and older than any living memory. It hummed faintly sometimes, like it had a heartbeat of its own.
And for weeks, something gnawed at me—a dull pressure crawling behind my eyes, a whisper twisting through my blood. Today it screamed.
Like something was coming.
Or waking.
I moved through the crowd outside the local Field Guild hub, a battered outpost made from rusted shipping containers and welded steel plates. A faded banner hung crookedly above the checkpoint:
FIELD GUILD 08-AX | DUNGEON ENTRY: 2ND-CLASS LICENSE REQUIRED
I didn't have a license. Not officially. But I had a favor.
"Name?" barked the guard, a hulking E-rank who looked like he ate bricks for breakfast.
"Elijah Voss."
The man stared at me like I was a ghost.
"You don't look like you belong here."
"That's because I don't."
"Then why are you—"
A sharp voice cut him off.
"He's with me."
Arielle stepped out from the tent behind us. Her support bands glowed faintly, humming with a soft silver light that made the air around us buzz. Her presence was like a pulse of calm in the chaos, and every time she was near, I could feel my broken pieces trying to fit back together.
The guard raised a brow. "Your cousin?"
"Childhood friend."
"Same thing."
She handed over a token stamped with her guild's sigil.
"He's cleared for dungeon entry under my supervision."
The guard muttered something under his breath—something about 'damn civilians playing hero'—then waved us through.
The checkpoint disappeared behind us as we stepped into the clearing leading to Dungeon AX-33, a C-class breach that had opened just last month. Partially explored, still volatile. Dangerous, but manageable.
"You're lucky I like you," Arielle muttered as we walked. "You're not supposed to be anywhere near this place."
"I wasn't planning on going in," I lied.
"You never plan," she said, eyes sharp. "You improvise your way into trauma."
"Poetic. Was that on a greeting card somewhere?"
She didn't laugh.
The dungeon core hung in the center—a vertical tear in the air that distorted the world like a heat haze. Through it, flickers of a broken landscape: skeletal trees, shards of shattered stone, and shadows moving against the laws of physics.
Standing near it made my skin crawl.
Arielle looked at me. "I'm serious, Eli. Something's wrong here. Reports are all over the place. Three scouting teams reported time slippage inside. One guy swore he saw his dead brother walking the halls."
"Spooky."
"Don't be an ass."
"Noted."
She narrowed her eyes. "I can feel you shifting."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Your mana. It's… responding. But you still don't have a rank."
"Not yet."
She glanced down at the black ring on my hand. "It's been pulsing since sunrise."
"Yeah."
Elijah. That name tasted strange on my tongue now. A name that might mean something soon.
"If something triggers your Awakening inside this dungeon…" she said slowly, "…you could die."
I didn't answer.
Because I wasn't afraid of dying.
I was afraid of what would wake if I didn't.
Inside the Dungeon
Dungeon AX-33 was colder than I expected. The stale air tasted like blood and rust. Shadows clung to broken pillars and shattered stained glass windows. Black roots crawled like veins along the walls. It felt like walking through a graveyard that forgot it was dead.
No light. No sound. Just the echo of footsteps.
Our team: Arielle, two D-ranked mercenaries from her guild, and me. The official "support analyst." Unofficially? The liability no one wanted but nobody could kick out.
"I want everyone focused," Arielle said, swordstaff glowing icy blue in her hands. "The map's unstable. This place shifts."
"We get in, get out," muttered Darrin, a burly C-rank with flame-wreathed fists and the emotional maturity of burnt toast. "This place gives me the creeps."
I tuned them out.
Something was pulling at me—a low, rhythmic pulse in my head that grew louder with every step.
Then I heard it.
Not outside. Not spoken.
Inside me.
A voice older than memory.
You are late, Scion of Bone.
I froze.
The others didn't notice.
The walls shifted.
The ceiling trembled.
The dungeon core flared red.
A trap.
"Move!" Arielle screamed.
The floor exploded beneath us. A massive, charred skeletal hand smashed down like a meteor.
From the broken ground rose a creature I'd never seen in monster logs.
A Warden of Silence—a boss-level reaper-beast. A nightmare that should only exist in S- or A-class dungeons.
But this was a C-class.
Wrong.
It lunged before anyone could react.
Darrin raised his fists, but the beast's blade tore through him like paper. He hit the wall, limp.
Arielle shouted, glowing with full Amplifier power, throwing up a shield and buffing the other mercenary.
It wasn't enough.
Then the beast's eyes found me.
The Warden hesitated.
It turned its blade slowly toward me.
I knew.
It wasn't here for the others.
It was here for me.
A thousand voices screamed inside my head.
The ring on my finger burned cold and hot at once.
My lungs seized.
My legs buckled.
Then—
"AWAKEN."
The Awakening
The world shattered.
A status window crashed into my vision like divine lightning.
[STATUS WINDOW UNLOCKED]
Name: Elijah Voss
Rank: F (Awakened)
Class: Necromancer – Ancient Variant
Title: Scion of Bone
Mana: 450/450
HP: 270
STR: 11
AGI: 12
INT: 24
WIS: 30
CHA: 8
Summon Slots: 10
Sacred Ground Access: Purgatory – Level 1
Then another window appeared.
Triad Seal Recognized
Summon Slot 1 – Ashbourne Available
Keyword: AWAKEN
I gasped. The pain in my chest twisted into fire, but I knew what I had to do.
I opened my mouth, voice hoarse but clear.
"Awaken."
The space beside me rippled like a storm in slow motion. The ground cracked open, and cold spilled out like a scream.
Then he stepped through.
"Ashbourne"
Clad in blackened bone armor, dragging a scythe that whispered death on the wind. His eyes burned with cold blue fire.
He didn't roar. He didn't shout.
He moved.
Faster than I could follow.
The clash of scythe and blade echoed like thunder in the broken cathedral.
Behind me, Arielle's eyes were wide, her breath caught somewhere between fear and awe. The other mercenary dropped his weapon.
The Warden tried to fight back.
It never got the chance.
Ashbourne twisted, slashing, parrying.
One sweeping arc.
The Warden's head left its shoulders in silence.
Its body crumbled to ash before hitting the floor.
Ashbourne turned.
Bowed.
The sigil on my hand burned hot.
One-third of the mark vanished.
Slot one filled.
I collapsed.
Some Time Later
I woke to the sun stabbing through the cracked windows. The world was blurry and cold.
Arielle sat beside me, fingers wrapped around her glowing support bands.
"You died," she said.
"Not technically."
"You stopped breathing."
"Well, I started again."
She exhaled, no laughter in her voice. "You awakened."
"Guess I was saving it for a special occasion."
Her eyes drifted to the ring on my finger.
"That summon," she said softly.
"Ashbourne."
"It killed a boss-tier like it was nothing."
"He's the first."
"The first what?"
I turned my hand over. The sigil still burned faintly, two points remaining.
"The first of the Triad."
The city hummed outside, unaware that a necromancer had awakened in its shadows.
But I wasn't done yet.