It has been a long time since humanity experienced peace and appreciated the beauty of the Sun. The Sun was crying red from the cruelty he witnessed. The world was wicked, and the poor suffered while the rich rejoiced. There were no proper rulers. The strongest ruled for a while, and then they would be overthrown.
But suddenly, out of the blue, a strange thing appeared that promised power for those who were striving for it.
It was The Void. It was an endless world, larger than your dreams, and it had every nightmare you feared and very possible ways that could kill a powerless human. If you survive, you can endlessly improve your strength by completing your trials and killing for blood. It was a magical world with powers. You would be granted powers based on your pros and cons. No one knows where the void is or who made it. It suddenly appeared when humans were decaying and powerless. The void only chooses random people based on the people's ego, dream, etc. It first aims to break your dream and make you quit if you don't, you might get chosen by the Void itself.
"Hey Kid, where are you going?" yelled a man who was shorter than most.
The kid just ignored him and kept going, " This old man...he certainly will ask me for some money," he muttered
The kid was tall black-haired, and had pale grey eyes, maybe at the age of seventeen. He was wearing a worn-out t-shirt symbolising an X mark on an emerald glowing purple, which meant they were not chosen by the void and mostly were poor and living in dark old valleys.
The old man just stood there waiting for the response.
"I don't have any money, old man, go get on someone else's nerves!" he yelled at him.
"At least tell me where are ya going!" the old man yelled at him from a long distance.
"To the Void Store..." He yelled by facing the other side
The old man was confused, "Didn't this kid say he didn't have any money while he is going to a store right now?".
It was winter. It was cold — the kind of cold that sank into your bones and stayed there — but it was hardly snowing. Just a few lazy flakes drifted down now and then, melting before they even touched the ground. The alley lay in a dull hush, wrapped in a gray, lifeless fog. Ice clung to the edges of old gutters and cracked pavement. The buildings, crooked and stained, looked like they'd been forgotten by time. A dented trash bin clattered in the wind, empty except for a single torn boot and a soaked blanket. From a narrow doorway, a boy stepped out, no older than twelve, hugging his too-thin jacket tight around his frame. His breath came out in visible puffs, but he kept walking, his boots crunching against frozen dirt. In this part of the city, winter didn't arrive with beauty — it crept in like a thief, stealing warmth and leaving nothing in return.
" Welcome to the Void store, sir!" greeted a woman
The void store was pretty famous, it had every equipment to survive the early trials in the void.
"Uhh, where can I get the swords?" asked the kid
"Behind the Beast Taming section, sir," she answered
The store was massive, stretching longer than a city block, its metal walls scorched by time and ash. Towering shelves reached toward a dark ceiling lost in shadow, packed with everything from blades and cloaks to rations and strange bottled liquids that pulsed faintly. Old fans turned lazily above, stirring air thick with iron, leather, and dust. Rows of survival tools, gear, masks, and Void-related artifacts were arranged with grim precision. Lanterns flickered over worn stone floors, casting long, warping shadows
He went to the sword section. Mostly, there were luxury swords worth more than 200 orbs.
Small, smooth, palm-sized spheres of faintly glowing crystal, Orbs were stable, hard to forge, and accepted everywhere. Each one was equivalent to 100 dollars in old-world value, making even a single Orb feel heavy with importance. Most people earned fragments of an Orb per day—barely enough to survive.
Orbs were used for everything: food, medicine, tools, weapons, shelter… even bribes and passage.
The rich hoarded them.The poor bled for them.
The boy scanned gleaming legendary blades, each etched with names and history, but his eyes stopped on a cheap, dark blue sword tucked beneath the shelf. It felt quiet. Unnoticed. Familiar."120 Orbs, huh?" he muttered.
Then the kid opened his wallet—it had a screen on it, scratched but functional.
------------------------------------------------
Name: Shin Kurosawa
Age: 17
Status: Not Chosen
Orbs: 123
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He sighed, tapping the screen.
Confirm Purchase?–120 Orbs
He clicked Yes.
The sword's handle was cold in his hand, the weight oddly balanced—like it had been waiting for him.
Behind the counter, the old shopkeeper nodded. "Strange pick," he rasped.
"I'm a strange person," Shin replied dryly.
Just then, the shopkeeper froze.
His body twitched, eyes going wide. A faint glow began to spread across his palm—black veins forming a burning spiral.
"No…" the man whispered. "Not me. Not now—"
And then, like glass shattering in silence, he vanished.
Just like that.
Gone.
The few customers in the store scattered in panic. A woman screamed and ducked. Others ran. Shin didn't move.
He bent down, picked up the receipt that had fluttered down behind the counter, and placed it neatly next to where the man had stood.
Behind him, a woman stared in disbelief. "You actually paid?" she asked, trembling.
Shin slid the sword into its sheath.
"I don't steal," he said calmly. "Even from people who don't exist anymore."
He turned slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. "Besides, that sword was ugly. I paid for the disappointment."
Then, just as he unsheathed it to get a better look—
The air shifted.
A low vibration echoed in his bones. The store lights dimmed.
And his palm began to burn.
He looked down. A black spiral was etching itself into his hand.
The screen on his wallet flickered violently.
Name: Shin KurosawaStatus: ChosenOrbs: 3
"…Tch."
The sword clattered to the ground.
Everything slowed.
Light folded. Sound vanished. The world around him peeled away like old paint.
And then, the boy was gone. Swallowed by the Void.
Darkness wasn't just the absence of light. In the Void, it felt like something that watched you. Something that listened.
Shin hit the ground hard.
The impact knocked the breath from his lungs. Cold stone scraped his palms, and he rolled onto his side with a quiet groan. Every part of his body screamed in confusion, like his nerves hadn't caught up with the fact that he had just been erased from the world.
He opened his eyes.
Above him, there was no sky—just an endless ceiling of shifting gray mist, like the clouds were stitched too low and too wrong. The air felt thick, not with smoke or scent, but with pressure. Like every breath was being filtered through something ancient and waiting.
His hand still burned. The mark glowed softly, spiraling on his palm, now embedded beneath the skin like a curse.
He looked around.
Thorns.
Hundreds—no, thousands—of—thorn—covered vines twisted along the stone ground, curling up into the air, hugging walls that didn't exist seconds ago. The landscape was a crooked cove of rock and fog, and the thorns pulsed faintly with a soft red glow. Every few seconds, a drop of something wet fell from their tips. It sizzled when it hit the ground.
Shin stood slowly, only to wince as a vine sliced across his ankle.
The thorns weren't just sharp—they moved.
They curled toward motion. Toward blood.
Another one lashed from the side, catching his arm.
He gasped as pain exploded through his bicep, hot and real. The cut wasn't deep, but the blood that dripped from it sizzled like the thorns were hungry for it.
"This is the Trial?" he thought, clutching the wound.
He tried to walk, stepping carefully between the vines, but the more he moved, the more they writhed. Like a living trap reacting to his every breath.
A thought stabbed into him suddenly:
"Your fear shall shape your path."
His eyes narrowed.
Fear?
He hadn't feared the thorns. Not until now. He didn't even know they existed before he arrived.
But what he did fear…
Bleeding.
Breaking.
The ground shifted again.
The cove opened wider, revealing a path made entirely of twisted vines, bleeding thorns, and pulsating roots. The walls closed behind him.
Shin narrowed his eyes.
"I see," he muttered. "So it feeds on the mind."
And the Void... was starving.