All this event happening in completely different timeline and it is "WHAT IF"
Year 2088, Seoul – Rankers' Unity Ceremony
The grand plaza surged with light and sound, a spectacle choreographed to perfection. Giant holo-banners shimmered above the sea of dignitaries—billionaires in carbon-thread suits, diplomats draped in glowing sashes, and the elusive shadow influencers whose presence was felt more than seen. All had come to witness the Rankers' Unity Ceremony, a moment meant to immortalize peace and progress in a post-war world.
Above them, Lemmedy Kley's 2085 anthem, Notes of Saviours, floated through the air—its ethereal notes recalling the legendary triumphs of the Five Saviours during the Entic War. The music swelled, amplifying the moment's gravity.
At the center of it all stood Prime Minister Gok Sun-Ji, robes ceremonial and crisp, his frame tall and resolute despite the 59 years etched into his bones. His eyes, calm and calculating, scanned the gathering with silent purpose. This was the moment history would remember him not just as a saviour—but as the President of the Rankers, the one who unified the fragmented world.
A man approached—sleek, silver-eyed, and grinning beneath his sharp jawline.
Rmannos, the prime advisor of Eurasia, and the man whose whispers could alter fate.
Rmannos: "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gok. The world's changing its movement, like before."
Gok:[nodding slightly] "Hmm. Indeed it is."
[He gestured to a figure beside him.] "Meet my son, Pak Sun-Ji."
Pak, a tall, athletic teen with white hair that caught the plaza lights like silk, stepped forward.
Pak: "My name's Pak Sun-Ji. It's an honor."
Rmannos:[chuckling] "How amusing. You know my name?"
Pak: "Dad told me a lot, hehe."
Their laughter mingled with the music—but Gok's expression flickered. A chill brushed his spine. His fingers subtly brushed the hilt of the Infinity Blade at his waist—legendary, once a weapon of victory, now dulled by decades of peace.
Pak's gaze darted to his father.
Pak: "Dad, you okay?"
Gok:[gruffly] "Stay focused."
The music halted mid-note.
A low rumble shook the plaza. The air rippled—and then fractured.
Above them, reality tore open.
A massive yellow rift spiraled into existence, its crackling edge dripping chaos. Silence fell. Then chaos erupted.
Screams.
Scatter.
Banners flickered out.
Gok unsheathed the Infinity Blade, its edge humming, instinct overriding ceremony.
Gok: "Pak, stay focused."
From the rift descended a cloaked figure—tall, wrapped in brown robes, long yellow hair whipping in the charged air. His hand crackled with raw Entic energy, shards of glowing ruin pulsing in his grasp. His voice shattered the quiet.
Cloaked Man: "It's over, Gok Sun-Ji. You… you killed my father!"
Pak froze, blood draining from his face.
Pak: "Beak?!"
Gok: "Father? What do you—"
An Entic Shard flew.
The Infinity Blade exploded, light and metal scattering like stardust. The plaza gasped.
From the wreckage, it emerged—a towering replica of Wu-Ji, the Saviour, reborn in ghostly white. Its face was masked. Power surged.
Wu-Ji Replica: "METEORIC!"
An electric shockwave cracked the sky.
Time slowed.
Two Years Earlier
Year 2086 – Wu-Ji International High School, Seoul
The hum of projectors and idle chatter filled the classroom. A 3D schematic of the Entic War hovered midair, displaying the faces of the Five Saviours. The teacher's monotone voice echoed:
"And thus, the Entic Conflict was ended by the unity of the Five Saviours, led by Gok Sun-Ji and—"
Beak: "Heh! What a joke. Fuck that off."
Heads turned.
Beak Lee-Sun, 16 years old, 1.89 meters of raw attitude, leaned back with a scowl. His black eyes burned with something darker than rebellion.
Teacher: "What did you say to me?! You dare—"
Beak: "Shut up, lame teacher. You know I can punch you off that desk so easily."
Laughter rippled.
Behind him, Pak Sun-Ji—neat, composed—leaned forward, voice low and apologetic.
Pak: "Bro, stop it… Sorry, teacher, I'm sorry for my friend Beak."
Beak: "What? Whatever…" [slouches deeper]
The bell rang. Students bolted out like freed prisoners.
Evening.
Neon lights danced on rain-slick streets as Beak and Pak walked side by side, bags slung over shoulders. Around them, youth flowed into cafés, VR domes, and the Rankers' Video Game Center—a sacred battleground for Seoul's teens.
Pak: "Man, you gotta chill in class. Teacher's gonna report you again."
Beak: "Let him. What's he gonna do? Cry to Gok?"
[He smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes.]
Pak: "C'mon, you're better than that. Wanna hit the arcade? I'll beat you at Rift Strike this time."
Beak:[snorts] "Dream on, Sun-Ji."
But above them, hidden from all but the keenest eyes, a yellow flicker shimmered in the distance.
:Shards...