He started packing systematically. Emergency rations went in first, along with water purification tablets. Then the healing and mana potions, carefully wrapped to prevent breakage. The First Aid Kit. The Combat Manuals and Magic Primer. Extra clothes from his closet. The utility knife from his kitchen as a mundane backup.
The Reinforced Leather Armor and Combat Boots he'd wear tomorrow. The Utility Belt would go around his waist, holding the most critical items for quick access.
From his Divine Vault, he retrieved several key items:
The Ring of the Unyielding went on his left hand. It provided passive physical defense, a simple but reliable boost to survivability.
The Cloak of Swift Shadows he folded and packed. Not essential for the first wave, but useful for future scenarios that required stealth.
The Essence of Temporal Awareness he kept separate. This consumable would sharpen his perception of time during critical moments, effectively giving him a brief period of enhanced reaction speed. He'd save it for emergencies.
The Versatile Combat Weapon Token he attached to his belt in its compact form. It looked like a simple metallic disc, but with a thought, it could transform into any basic weapon type. Sword, spear, axe, dagger, bow, staff, or even a shield.
Raye tested it, focusing his will on the disc.
It shimmered and expanded, metal flowing like liquid, reshaping itself in seconds. A standard longsword appeared in his hand, perfectly balanced, the blade gleaming despite the ordinary metal. He gave it a few experimental swings, feeling the weight, testing the edge.
'Decent,' he thought. 'Not masterwork, but far better than anything I could buy from a normal store.'
Another thought, and the sword melted back into disc form.
He tried other shapes. A spear. A bow with phantom arrows that would form from mana. A pair of daggers. Each transformation was smooth and instant, the weapon appearing fully formed in whatever grip he needed.
Finally, he settled on keeping it as a sword for tomorrow. His Adaptive Combat Mastery would let him learn any weapon quickly, but starting with something versatile made sense for the first wave.
The Omnibrid's Primer sat on his table, unopened. Raye picked it up, feeling the weight of the book. The cover was blank except for a golden symbol that matched the patterns on his Architect's Ring.
He opened it.
The pages were filled with dense text and detailed diagrams, all written in a script that seemed to shift and adapt as he read it, ensuring he could understand every word regardless of its original language.
[Omnibrid's Primer - Chapter 1: Understanding Your Foundation]
The Omnibrid talent is both a blessing and a curse. You can become anything, which means you must choose what to become at any given moment. Mastery comes not from learning everything at once, but from learning the right things at the right times.
Your talent provides tools. You must provide wisdom.
The chapter went on to explain the fundamentals of managing such a versatile talent. How to prioritize skill development. How to avoid the trap of spreading yourself too thin. How to leverage the Support Amplification and Constellation's Insight to build effective teams.
Raye read for nearly an hour, absorbing information that would have taken most people days to process. His enhanced Intelligence and the Swift Learner passive skill made comprehension almost effortless.
By the time he finished the first three chapters, he had a much clearer understanding of his capabilities and limitations.
The Omnibrid wasn't truly limitless. It had incredible breadth, but depth required time and effort like any other talent. The key was synergy—combining different aspects of the talent in ways that multiplied effectiveness rather than simply adding it.
For example: using Strategic Aptitude to analyze an enemy's weakness, then using Adaptive Combat Mastery to exploit it with the perfect weapon, while simultaneously using Support Amplification to boost an ally's attack at the critical moment. Three aspects of the talent working together to create an outcome greater than any single aspect could achieve.
'Build yourself before you build others,' Raye thought, remembering the inscription on the Architect's Ring. 'I need to be competent in the basics before I can help anyone else.'
He closed the Primer and set it aside. Tomorrow he'd read more, but for now he needed to focus on immediate preparations.
The wall clock showed 23:47. Just over eight hours until the first wave began. Outside, Seoul continued its descent into chaos. The sirens had multiplied. The sounds of breaking glass and distant shouting drifted through his window. The city was eating itself alive in fear.
Raye moved to his laptop again, checking the news one more time.
Every channel showed similar scenes. Highways were completely gridlocked as people tried to flee the cities. Grocery stores had been stripped bare within hours, shelves emptied by panicked crowds. Some areas reported violent clashes over resources.
Religious groups had formed in public spaces, praying to their traditional gods for salvation. Others were embracing the new reality, calling the constellations divine beings worthy of worship.
The government had declared martial law, but it was a meaningless gesture. What could the military do against something like this? The moderators weren't physical threats that could be shot or bombed. The scenarios wouldn't be stopped by police or soldiers.
A news anchor, barely maintaining composure, reported that similar chaos was unfolding worldwide. Every major city experiencing the same breakdown of order. Global communication networks were being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people trying to reach loved ones.
Raye noticed something else in the footage from various cities. Some people, maybe one in a hundred, weren't panicking. They stood in the crowds with calculating expressions, already thinking ahead, already adapting to the new reality.
'Those are the ones who'll survive,' he thought. 'The ones who can process fear and still function.'
He needed to find those people. Build alliances. Create a team that could handle not just the scenarios but the human threats that would emerge from desperation.
But first, Allison.
Raye pulled out his phone and opened his contacts again. Her name stared back at him. Allison Hart. His childhood friend. His first crush. The girl who would become the Spirit Sword.
He typed out a message several times, deleting each attempt. What could he say that wouldn't sound insane?
Finally, he settled on something simple:
"Allison, it's Raye. I know we haven't talked much lately, but I need to see you tomorrow morning. Early. It's important. Please respond when you can."
He hit send before he could second-guess himself.
The message showed as delivered. Then, after a moment, as read.
Three dots appeared, indicating she was typing.
Raye's heart rate spiked, waiting.
"Raye? Are you serious right now? Did you see what just happened? The thing in the sky? I'm kind of freaking out here."
He typed quickly:
"I saw it. Everyone did. That's why I need to see you. I can explain some things, but not over text. Your apartment in Itaewon, right? Same building as last year?"
Another pause. More typing.
"...Yeah, same place. But Raye, what could you possibly explain? This is insane. The news is saying it's happening everywhere."
"I know. Trust me, I know more than you think. Can I come by around 6 AM? Before everything gets worse?"
A longer pause this time. Raye could imagine her, sitting in her apartment, staring at her phone, trying to decide if her old friend had lost his mind.
"Okay. 6 AM. But you better have a good explanation for this cryptic nonsense."
Relief washed through Raye like cold water.
"I will. I promise. Try to get some rest if you can."
"Rest. Right. Sure. See you in the morning, Raye."
The conversation ended. Raye set his phone down, exhaling slowly.
Step one complete. He'd made contact. She'd agreed to see him. Now he just needed to convince her that the ramblings of a former friend about the apocalypse weren't the delusions of someone who'd cracked under pressure.
'She'll understand once the first wave starts,' he thought. 'Once she sees her status screen and talent classification. Once the scenarios begin and I prove I know what's coming.'
Assuming he could keep both of them alive that long.
Raye stood and stretched, feeling the tension in his shoulders. He'd been sitting for hours, processing everything, planning and preparing. His body needed movement.
He spent the next thirty minutes doing basic exercises. Push-ups, sit-ups, squats. Testing his new body, feeling how it responded. The stat increases from his talent and the ring made everything easier. He could do twice as many reps as before without feeling winded.
'This is what I start with,' he marveled. 'Level one with stats better than most level fives from my first timeline.'
When he finished exercising, Raye moved to his bathroom and showered. The hot water felt incredible, and he took his time, knowing it might be one of his last normal showers for a long time. Once the scenarios began, basic utilities like running water and electricity would become unreliable at best.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror as he dried off. Black hair with that distinctive white streak framing his face. Cyan eyes that seemed to glow faintly in the bathroom's fluorescent lighting. A body that looked lean and fit despite never having trained seriously in this timeline.
'I'm twenty-two again,' he thought. 'Not thirty-five. Not exhausted and broken. I have time.'
He returned to his main room and looked at the organized chaos of his preparations. Backpack packed with essentials. Armor laid out for quick dressing. Weapon token on his belt. Ring on his finger. Vault full of resources.
Everything was ready.
Raye set multiple alarms on his phone. 4:45 AM. 5:00 AM. 5:15 AM. He couldn't afford to oversleep, not when Allison was expecting him at six.
The city outside his window had quieted somewhat, exhaustion finally overtaking panic for many people. The sirens continued, but less frequently. The crowds had thinned as people retreated to their homes, seeking the false comfort of familiar walls.
False comfort, because walls wouldn't protect them. Nothing would protect them except strength, knowledge, and the will to survive.
Raye lay down on his futon, still fully dressed except for his shoes. Sleep would be difficult, maybe impossible, but he needed to try. His body might have been enhanced by Promethor's reconstruction, but he was still human. He needed rest to function at peak efficiency.
He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Slow, steady, controlled. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Centering himself the way he'd learned during the scenarios, when sleep had to be grabbed in brief moments between life and death.
His mind drifted, thoughts fragmenting into half-formed images.
His mother's face, the last time he'd seen her alive in his first timeline. She'd been running from something, terror in her eyes, calling his name.
His sister, younger than him by three years, always so full of energy and optimism. She'd made it to the seventh scenario before...
Jiro, the true hero, smiling even as he died. "Everyone can rest now."
And Allison. Golden hair catching sunlight. Red eyes burning with determination. The Spirit Sword manifesting in her hands, beautiful and deadly.
'Not this time,' Raye promised the darkness. 'This time we all make it.'
Sleep came eventually, fitful and filled with dreams of things that had happened and things that might still happen.
---
The alarms pierced through Raye's consciousness at 4:45 AM.
He was awake instantly, hand shooting out to silence the phone before the noise could continue. His danger sense flared slightly at the sudden sound, then settled as he recognized it as harmless.
Raye sat up, rubbing his face. He'd managed maybe three hours of actual sleep, but it would have to be enough. His enhanced Vitality meant he could function on less rest than before.
The city outside was quiet in that pre-dawn way, the world holding its breath before sunrise. He could see the first hints of light on the eastern horizon, painting the sky in shades of deep blue and purple.
He stood and stretched, working the stiffness out of his muscles. Then he began his morning routine with military efficiency.
Bathroom first. Wash face, brush teeth, make himself presentable. Check his reflection one more time. The same face stared back: young, determined, marked by that white streak that made him distinctive.
Back to the main room. He pulled on the Reinforced Leather Armor, adjusting the straps until it fit snugly. The armor was surprisingly comfortable, designed for mobility rather than heavy protection. It would stop a knife or claw but wouldn't slow him down.
The Combat Boots came next, lacing up quickly. They felt perfect, molding to his feet as if custom-made. The enhancement made his steps lighter, his balance better.
The Utility Belt went around his waist, and he loaded it with essential items. Minor healing potions in the left pouches. Mana potions in the right. The Versatile Weapon Token hung from a clip on his right hip, ready to transform at a moment's notice.
He checked his phone. 5:23 AM. Plenty of time to reach Itaewon before six.
Raye shouldered the Durable Backpack, feeling its weight settle comfortably. Everything he needed for survival was in that pack or his vault. Food, water, medicine, tools, manuals, resources.
He took one last look at his apartment. This small space had been home, in both timelines. The place he'd returned to after work, after classes, after mundane errands in a mundane life.
That life was over. Had been over the moment Promethor offered him a contract.
Raye opened his door and stepped into the hallway. A few of his neighbors were up, huddled in doorways, whispering to each other with fearful expressions. They glanced at him, taking in his armor and equipment, and quickly looked away.
He ignored them and headed for the stairs. The elevator would be packed or broken, and he didn't want to risk getting trapped.
Three flights down, his boots making soft thuds on concrete. Through the building's lobby, where the elderly security guard sat slumped in his chair, staring at a small television showing news footage on repeat.
Outside, Seoul greeted him with its wounded face.
The streets were littered with abandoned belongings. Luggage, bags, even shoes, dropped by people who'd fled in panic. Several cars sat crashed into each other or against lampposts, drivers long gone. Broken glass sparkled on the pavement from shattered storefronts.
The famous neon signs of Gangnam, normally so bright and energetic, flickered weakly or sat dark entirely. The city looked exhausted, drained of its usual vibrant energy.
But there were people. Not as many as normal, but groups moving with purpose. Some heading toward supply stores, hoping to find anything left. Others making their way to transportation hubs, still trying to escape despite the gridlock.
And a few, like Raye, simply walking with determination toward specific destinations.
He checked his phone's map application, plotting the route to Itaewon. Normally it was a thirty-minute trip via subway or taxi. But the subways weren't running—he'd checked the news earlier and seen reports that the transit authority had shut down all lines as a safety measure. And finding a taxi in this chaos would be impossible.
Walking would take about two hours at a normal pace. But Raye's enhanced Agility and the Combat Boots would cut that down significantly.
He started moving, keeping to side streets where the crowds were thinner. His danger sense stayed quiet, just a background awareness rather than an active warning. Good. The real threats wouldn't emerge until the first wave began.
As he walked, Raye observed the city's transformation. Groups had formed based on perceived safety. Families huddled together in apartment building lobbies. Younger people gathered in parks, trying to make sense of what had happened. A few enterprising individuals were already attempting to barter goods, setting up makeshift markets in open spaces.
'The social order is breaking down faster than my first time,' Raye noted. 'Probably because of global communication. Everyone can see what's happening everywhere at once.'
He passed a convenience store with its windows smashed. Inside, the shelves were empty except for scattered packaging. People had taken everything—food, water, batteries, anything useful.
A few blocks later, he encountered his first potential conflict. Three men stood near an alley, watching him approach with calculating eyes. They saw his armor, his weapon, his backpack, and he could read the thought process clearly: this person has resources.
Raye's danger sense flared slightly. Not imminent threat, but potential.
He adjusted his path slightly, angling away from them while keeping them in his peripheral vision. His hand casually drifted toward the Versatile Weapon Token.
The men watched him pass, tension in their postures. One took a half-step forward, then stopped as his companions grabbed his arm. A brief argument in hushed voices. Then they retreated into the alley, deciding he wasn't worth the risk.
'Smart,' Raye thought. 'I don't look like easy prey.'
He continued onward, crossing from Gangnam into the neighboring districts. The Han River bridges were visible in the distance, still packed with immobile traffic. Some people had abandoned their vehicles entirely, walking across the bridges on foot.
Raye took a different route, using smaller bridges and elevated paths where the congestion was less severe. His knowledge of Seoul's geography, retained from his first timeline, served him well.
As he walked, the sky gradually lightened. Dawn was breaking, painting the clouds in shades of pink and gold. It would have been beautiful if not for the columns of smoke rising from various districts where fires had broken out during the night.
He checked his phone again. 5:52 AM. Eight minutes to reach Allison's apartment.
Raye picked up his pace, jogging now, the Combat Boots making the movement effortless. The streets blurred past as he navigated through Itaewon's international quarter.
This district looked slightly better than Gangnam. The foreign influence meant more people speaking different languages, more diverse reactions to the crisis. Some businesses were still open, owners standing guard at their doors. Others had shuttered completely.
Raye found Allison's building easily. A mid-rise apartment complex popular with students and young professionals. The lobby doors were propped open, the security system either disabled or simply not staffed.
He entered and headed for the elevator, then reconsidered and took the stairs to the fourth floor. Apartment 407. He'd visited once, briefly, about a year ago when they'd met up for coffee after months of not seeing each other.
That meeting had been awkward, stilted conversation between two people who'd once been close but had let time erode their connection. They'd parted with promises to stay in touch that neither had kept.
Raye stood before her door and raised his hand to knock.
Before his knuckles could connect with the wood, the door swung open.
Allison Hart stood in the doorway, and for a moment, Raye forgot how to breathe.
She looked exactly as he remembered, and nothing like what he remembered simultaneously. Golden hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her face. Red eyes that seemed to burn even in the dim hallway lighting, intense and intelligent. She wore comfortable clothes—sweatpants and an oversized hoodie—but even casual attire couldn't hide the natural grace in how she held herself.
This was Allison before the scenarios. Before the Spirit Sword. Before the contracts and battles and eventual betrayal.
This was his friend, alive and whole and looking at him with a mixture of relief and confusion.
"Raye," she said, and her voice cracked slightly. "You actually came."
"I said I would," Raye replied, managing to keep his own voice steady.
Allison stepped aside, gesturing him in. "Get in here before someone sees you dressed like you're about to storm a castle. What the hell is going on?"
Raye entered the apartment, and Allison closed the door behind him, engaging three separate locks.
Her living space was small but tidy, decorated with an eclectic mix of styles that reflected her personality. Posters of art exhibitions on one wall. Bookshelves crammed with novels and textbooks. A small kitchen area with a coffee maker already brewing.
"Want some coffee?" Allison asked, moving toward the kitchen. "I made extra. Figured we'd both need it after... everything."
"Coffee would be great," Raye said, setting his backpack down carefully and leaning against her small dining table.
Allison poured two cups, adding sugar to both—she remembered how he took it, even after all this time. She handed him one and cradled her own, staring at him over the rim.
"So," she said quietly. "Talk. Because you show up at six in the morning wearing armor, carrying what looks like military-grade equipment, and texting me cryptic messages about explaining things. And meanwhile, the entire world just watched something impossible happen. So talk, Raye. What the hell do you know that I don't?"
Raye took a sip of coffee, gathering his thoughts. How did you explain that you'd lived through the apocalypse once already? That you'd watched her die? That a god had sent you back in time?
He met her red eyes, saw the intelligence burning there, the desperate need for answers, and decided on the simplest approach.
The truth.
"Allison," he said quietly. "In about six hours, the first wave is going to begin. When it does, we're all going to get status screens, talent classifications, and scenario objectives. And then monsters are going to appear, and people are going to start dying. Thousands of them. Maybe millions worldwide."
She stared at him, her expression unreadable.
"And I know this," Raye continued, "because I've lived through it once already."
Allison set her coffee down very carefully.
"Raye," she said slowly. "Did you hit your head? Are you having some kind of break because of what we saw last night?"
"I know how it sounds. But I'm telling you the truth. I've lived through ninety-nine scenarios. Watched the world end. Contracted with a constellation called Promethor, the Architect. And he sent me back to the beginning so I could change things."
He pulled up his system interface, making it visible to her through his will. The golden menus materialized in the air between them, displaying his status, his talent, his skills.
Allison's eyes went wide. "What... how are you...?"
"The system activated early for me because of my contract," Raye explained. "Everyone else gets theirs at 8 AM when the first wave begins. But I already have mine. And I'm telling you, Allison, when yours activates, you're going to have an SSS-rank talent. The Spirit Sword. And if you use it right, you'll become one of the strongest people in Seoul."
She backed away from the table, shaking her head. "This is insane. You're insane. I should call—"
"Who? The police? They can't help you. Nobody can help except yourself and the people you trust. And I'm asking you to trust me, like you used to when we were kids. Like when I told you that abandoned house wasn't really haunted and you believed me anyway."
Allison stopped, something in his words reaching through her panic.
"That was different," she whispered. "We were twelve."
"And now we're twenty-two, and the world just told us it's about to end unless we play its game. So please, Allison. Just listen. Let me tell you what's coming and how we survive it. And if I'm wrong, if 8 AM comes and nothing happens, then you can call me crazy and kick me out. But if I'm right..."
He let the sentence hang.
Allison stood there for a long moment, conflict warring across her face. Fear, confusion, desperate hope that maybe someone had answers.
Finally, she picked up her coffee again and sat down across from him.
"Okay," she said quietly. "I'm listening. Tell me everything."
And as the sun rose over Seoul, casting light across a city with less than six hours until the apocalypse truly began, Raye Silver started talking.