"Good morning," Nightborne muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Not that morning meant much here.
The sky hadn't changed. That single eternal moon still hovered above, casting the same pale, cold light across the island. The shadows hadn't shifted, and the darkness still clung to every edge of the world. Time felt meaningless - no sunrises, no sunsets - just an unchanging sky and the eerie consistency of the island's twilight.
He stood at the mouth of his cave and stretched, his joints popping slightly from the rough sleep. The cave was cold, but it was home - for now.
This island was strange. The longer he stayed, the more questions stacked up in his mind. The most obvious was the water situation. All the surrounding ocean water was undrinkable, thick and brackish like it hadn't moved in centuries. Yet, inland, there was a river with clean, clear water. A gentle current always running - but where was it flowing from? Or to? There were no sources feeding it. No lake. No falls. No ocean outflow. Just... a river, existing because it wanted to, or because something made it that way.
He'd asked himself those questions more than once, while crouched beside the water's edge, refilling his flasks. And every time, he left with no answers.
Beyond the river, the island was full of life - but not like the kind he'd known before. The trees were tall and thick, their bark a deep, shadowed black. Their leaves? A crimson red that seemed almost painted on, like the trees themselves were bleeding in slow motion. The grass was a deep, healthy green, untouched by the strange hue of the forest. It swayed softly in the breeze, alive and quiet. Even the sky, when he looked up, was a navy shade of blue so dark it was almost indistinguishable from the horizon.
He hadn't explored too much beyond his cave and the immediate forest around it. Survival came first - food. Water. Shelter. Now that he had those - barely - maybe it was time to start venturing out.
But one question still lingered at the front of his mind, persistent and itching: why had he gotten his powers already?
Everything he'd heard - snippets from old survivor interviews, podcasts, fragments of recovered memories - pointed to the same pattern. Powers awakened after the first warp. After you survived whatever hell the first stage was. That was how it always went.
But not for him.
His came early. No milestone. No system notification of warp completion. Just two monsters in a cave, a brush with death... and a surge of power that shouldn't have happened yet.
Why?
Was it a mistake?
Or worse - was it a warning?
He didn't know. But deep down, a part of him had already guessed the answer. If he had powers now, before the warp even ended... then that meant something was coming. Something different. Something harder. Maybe something that had never happened before.
And maybe, just maybe... the system had given him this power early not as a gift - but as preparation.
---
This world has a power ranking of sorts - it is measured with two tests: the magic capacity test and the physical output test. The magic capacity test is done by injecting magic power from low-tier power stones, which are collected from the warps. Creatures possess power stones with six tiers, and the tier of the stone indicates how much magic power it contains.
Tier one monsters are simple beings without the ability to use magic though they possess a basic level to function.
Tier two monsters have enhanced physical prowess.
Tier three monsters can use magic.
Tier four monsters have the ability to control their surroundings.
Tier five monsters are rare but deadly; they can mimic and manipulate the five senses - essentially perfect hypnosis.
Tier six monsters, the rarest and most powerful, have the ability to control a warp world of their own - they are the owners of entire worlds.
Tier seven exists only in theory - no one has seen them, but they are said to be the creators of the warps themselves and part of The Origin.
Then comes the number of stones:
1 stone gives a normal power level.
2 stones add +20% to the power level.
3 stones add +30%.
4 stones add +40%.
5 stones add +50%.
6 stones add +60%.
And so on.
Usually, a creature carries one stone, but there have been recorded battles with monsters wielding up to ten stones - events that required high-ranking, mostly ascended divers to take them down.
Divers, however, come with their own rankings:
Basic - normal human pre-warp.
Awakened - first warp survivors with newly awakened powers.
Ascended - fifth warp survivors capable of a tier four group kill.
Holy - sixth warp survivors able to manage a tier four solo kill.
Divine - seventh warp survivors capable of a tier five group kill.
Godly - the singular case of a person in history, the first diver named Silvian Navarre, whose power is said to rival that of a tier six monster with ten stones, abbreviated "S10T6."
Growing up, Nightborne had been a fan of the hero Gillian Anderson, a man of Holy rank who had made many appearances in interviews and even hosted his own show featuring ascended rankers. Gillian recounted his solitary acts in the warps - his first warp was a land filled with nothing but endless roads and rivers - and that independent spirit resonated with Nightborne. He dreamed of reaching his own awakening and someday earning an interview on Gillian's show.
---
"Good morning," he had muttered when he awoke, yet the day felt like another extension of that unchanging twilight. Now, walking along the narrow paths outside his cave, Nightborne's thoughts churned as he pondered the abrupt arrival of his powers. Why had he, against all expectations, awakened so early? Had this unanticipated surge meant that the challenge ahead would be unprecedented - something so arduous that it demanded power well before the customary end of the warp?
Every step carried the weight of that question as he journeyed deeper into the mysteries of the island, a realm that balanced paradoxes - undrinkable ocean waters encircling a hidden, pure river; a landscape of black trees bleeding crimson leaves against the backdrop of a deep blue sky. Amid these contradictions, his early power hinted at a profound secret waiting to be unveiled.
In his heart, Nightborne knew that his awakening was not merely a stroke of fortune; it was the island's way of preparing him. Perhaps, he mused as he paused by the river's edge to refill his flask, the system of power that governed this realm had identified something unique in him. The promise of this early gift, though shrouded in mystery, urged him to push forward, to learn and to master every facet of his new abilities.
With determination burning in his eyes, he thought back to the moment of transformation in his cave - a time when death had nearly claimed him, and in that last desperate cry, the Direwolf's Claws had erupted with power. In the silent chaos of that battle, amid the clattering bones of the defeated foes, a spectral voice had declared:
[You have awakened your dormant power.]
The surge of energy had carved his identity anew:
[Name: Nightborne]
[Origin of Power: Heir of the UNKNOWN]
It had also imbued him with abilities that intertwined him with the dark nature of the island:
[One with Darkness] - a power that allowed him to blend into the shadows and sense the subtlest stirrings even in complete darkness.
[Light Suppression] - a force by which light itself dimmed in his presence, casting even the brightest flame into uncertainty.
[Mark of Fate] - an enigmatic imprint upon his soul, hinting at a destiny written in mystery rather than chosen by chance.
And yet, there lingered the irreversible burden of his power:
[Curse of Light] - the inescapable paradox that his rising strength would draw forth champions of light, those sworn to purge the darkness he embodied.
Now, as he set out across the rugged terrain of the island, Nightborne's mind replayed the memory of his awakening. Amid the terror of that fateful fight, when death hovered near and every instinct screamed for escape, he had felt something shift within him. It was as though the very essence of the night had poured into his veins, transforming his frailty into a flicker of indomitable force. That moment had been both terrifying and liberating - a visceral reminder that his destiny was no longer a matter of chance.
Yet, even as he embraced his newfound abilities, questions still swirled. The mysteries of the island - its undrinkable waters, its incongruous river, the strange hues of its flora - were intertwined with his own transformation. The early awakening of his power suggested that the challenges that lay ahead would be unlike any before. Something was coming, and it was clear that his early gift was not a simple boon but a precursor to trials that would test every fiber of his being.
With these thoughts weighing on him, Nightborne continued his solitary trek under the eternal glow of the moon. He ventured cautiously, every step measured and intent on uncovering the island's secrets while honing the raw powers that now pulsed within him. Though he had not yet unraveled the true meaning of the [Mark of Fate], he was resolved to learn its significance in due time.
As the night deepened, with the cool air whispering through the darkened landscape and every leaf and stone echoing the mysteries of this strange world, Nightborne pressed on. His journey was just beginning - a solitary march into an uncertain future, armed with unexpected power and burdened by questions that begged for answers.