Chapter 1: Prologue
There were no exact records of how long ago it had happened.
In ancient times, there were no settlements. No reliable ways to keep records other than word of mouth. The history was told from parent to child and in time, as humans always do, the truth got twisted or lost.
People cared less about knowing why, when, or how and care only about surviving. Humans only wanted to live another day.
What we know was as follows.
There had been no mana on the planet.
Humans alone lived. No fairy, elf, or goblin existed. They were myths, fables told at night to young children with eyes that gleamed.
With no mana, there had been technology and humans advanced in science. They had architectures that reached for the heavens. Carriages that sped fast, yet no horses pulled them. An information network so enormous and accessible. Societies now would salivate at being able to use such a thing.
They were magnificent.
They were safe.
Then breaks appeared in the sky. Beyond, you could see nothing. As if the other side was empty. Black and dreary, it should have been a clue. One that showed all humanity's fate.
It looked as if nothing was happening, only something was. Through those breaks, those portals, mana spilled into their world. It sank deep into the crust of their planet. Shrouded their animals. Poisoned their water and clawed at their skin. It infected their organs and teared at their very souls.
One-third of the human population was dead.
With their bodies not used to mana, they became sick. They later coined it as mana poisoning. There was no cure in those days.
Humans adapted to this new world.
Mutations started developing in their animals. They became wilder, bigger, and bloodthirsty. Hunting the humans. They ripped them apart and feasting on their flesh and bones. Even the smallest and cutest of animals, like a rabbit, became vicious and hungry.
The animals that humans had once hunted now hunted them.
The trees and plants gained life as mana gave them a soul. They became sentient. Roots of trees sprouted and strangled the humans. It crushed them with ruthless glee and snapped their bones as humans snapped twigs.
Plants obtained movement. Their vines snared the humans feet, tripping them. They released harmful toxins and consumed life from humans. For every bloodied corpse that piled, their growth became more rapid. They collected humans underneath their soil like ghastly trophies.
Oceans, lakes, or dams. The water turned to acid. It seared the flesh of humans. The air became toxic, with condensed water being breathed in and rain became feared.
Violent storms raged. Screaming thunder hunted any human it could find. The winds grew harsh and cut at their skin like blades. Unrelenting rain fell and vulnerable flesh burned.
When they thought things couldn't get worse, the dreaded breaks returned.
From them, cruel monsters crawled. They had razor-sharp teeth. Their sunken eyes were hungry and humans stood no chance.
The humans most capable weapons, and mightiest fighters, all fell without resistance. These monsters were powerful.
Two-thirds of the human population was dead.
The once mighty race was in shambles. Buildings crumbled and technology failed.
They had no hope.
The breaks appeared for a third and final time. Then came the odd creatures and the unknown gods.
Using force, they cleared and claimed the charred ruins of the humans past as their new homes. harsh sneers and cruel laugher were targeted at the miserable humans. The creatures taunted them and their feeble states. The humans grew enraged, but could do nothing.
They were too weak. Too easy to kill.
Until the gods intervened.
They offered the humans a chance, a way to oppose those beings that invaded their planet.
And so, humans sold themselves as slaves to the gods for the strength to fight, survive and maybe someday live again.
—
Lillian leaned back in the office chair, reading over the pathetic passage. Her chestnut hair was bound in a messy knot above her head. Dull eyes bore into the luminescent screen of the phone she clutched in her hand. She tapped against it. Lillian switched from the first chapter to the one she'd been reading. She pressed against the raised button on the side until the screen turned black. Her sore back throbbed. Lillian bit back a piteous whine. A frown painted on her thin, rosy lips.
She tilted her head and glanced out the sole window in her office. The orange and red hues of the sinking sun painted the sky above the city buildings. The forms of her collogues passed her office, more than half leaving for home. Lillian breathed a sigh and closed her eyes for a small rest. She thought back to what s'd read.
It was the most detailed part of the novel. The crappy writing had only sparse knowledge and the barest bones of descriptions.
The hero's start line.
She picked up the novel by recommendation not too long ago, but regretted it with bitter frustration. Lillian assumed the unknown author to be young, a young kid having a bit of fun. She hoped so. If the writing belonged to a grown adult, they should be ashamed.
Reluctantly opening her eyes and putting her slim phone on the oak desk. Lillian turned back to facing her work.
Her desk sat filled with three mountains of paperwork. A miserable sigh slipped from her. She pulled one slip of paper from the horde and started examining the report. Her eyes scanned over the document with the careless ease and speed of someone who had done it a hundred times or more.
Lillian provided her suggestions and requests. Noted important facts and wrote reasonable explanations where the struggling team had gone wrong before signing it and moving on with the rest.
This was her harsh punishment. Her hell for the wrongs she did in life. Lillian resisted the urge to burn the report that was marked with fine streaks of ink. When they offered her a job, she'd expected something different. What office worker got paid a gold mine a month? Lillian accepted it. Easy money, she'd never decline.
Only Lillian hated it. Paperwork had become her number one enemy after three years. It wasn't hard. In fact, it was undoubtedly the easiest job she'd ever had.
Lillian detested it because it bored her. She couldn't stand being bored.
Leaving the office building, Lillian tugged her thick black jacket closer to her body.
There was a chill to the evening air, and the wind carried a crisp tang with winter around the corner. Lillian stood alone outside, having worked late again. It was nearing midnight. Her tired body sagged as she dragged her feet toward her apartment. The night sang its melody with passing cars. It lulled in the background as Lillian's steps echoed.
Each tap, tap, tap of her feet adding to the rhythm of the song.
The dark was always Lillian's favourite place. It was in its solitude that Lillian found peace.
Looking up, Lillian noted the sombre and starless sky. Her eyes turned to the empty streets.
She felt at ease.
Dual sets of tapping joined hers. Soft and graceful, the feet brushed the cement sidewalk for a bare second before lifting off again. Lillian kept her eased pace, not batting an eyelash at the new people trying to discretely follow her. She didn't fidget or tense her body.
Paperwork was taxing and boring. When dealing with the secrets of a company, you ended up with the eyes of annoying people on you. Lillian never learned to be a paper pusher. When she'd started at the company, she'd been terrible at it. Her supervisor had complained because of her mistakes as often as he could.
She made too many mistakes back then.
They kept her around, claiming they could teach her. She learned and now handled the blasted things with the same ease as she breathed.
Her hiring had nothing to do with her skill, non-existent as it was, with paperwork.
Turning into a clean and ghostly ally. Lillian jumped.
She grabbed at the ledge of a window and swung herself up. She cupped her legs around the edge of a balcony with a railing that had wide spacing between its stone rails. Lillian lifted her torso, grabbing at the top of the railing. She pushed her weight onto the cool stone and swung her body around until she held a perfect handstand. She dropped her legs, letting gravity pull them towards the floor. No sound came when her feet touched the balcony.
Lillian tucked herself into a dark corner hidden behind a massive potted plant. Her butt met the biting stone floor, and she tugged her knees to her chest. Lillian rested her head against the wall.
She waited.
The would-be assailants cursed. Their footfalls became heavier as they searched the alley. They spent a few minutes causing a slight stink before leaving. Lillian breathed out and kept her position. She listened to the city sounds, and kept a careful ear on the room beyond the balcony doors.
She sat for an hour before heading for home.
Unlocking the door, Lillian stepped into the apartment. The warm air assaulted her chilly skin. She scanned through the dreary room with a tired eye. The shabby furniture was sparse. Lillian only kept the most essential things. The cracked walls were coloured a murky cream, and no picture frames adorned them.
She dropped the keys in a small dish placed on a dark table next to the entry. Lillian stretched her muscles and moaned as her bones gave a satisfying pop. She trudged to her couch and dropped face first into the firm cushions. Lillian lay there, limp.
A soft ping resonated through the room. She hummed in curiosity and opened one eye to scan the screen of her phone.
'The Hero's start line: Final.'
A happy gasp escaped her lips as she grinned. Finally!
The story she hated but kept reading was finally over. She'd be free! This was the last chapter, and she'd escape from the stupid curiosity that kept her going. Lillian sat up with a jerky motion. The sleepy haze that was trying to claw at her was gone. Her fingers worked with speed as she dragged up the last chapter.
Flicking her eyes from sentence to sentence, she sped through the work. Her excitement at getting it over with made her want to read faster. She skipped the useless descriptions that brought nothing to the novel and ate at the information that concluded the story. Resembling a woman who starved for weeks.
[The battle was over. Calen stood victorious, but the war had only just begun.]
Sorry? What now? Lillian gaped at the phone. They'd been at war for a few odd years now! How has it only just begun? Lillian bit at her lip and glared ferociously at the phone. What type of shitty ending was that? Was the author saying they were putting together another piece? Lillian didn't want to read any more of the author's crappy writing!
She grumbled to herself and clicked on the author's note. Desperately hoping it held more information for her.
[To my dearest reader, good night. Tomorrow the epilogue will begin.]
She screamed into the couch cushion. They were making more! Lillian whimpered. She didn't want there to be more.
Too lazy to move to her bed, Lillian merely stayed on the couch. The drowsiness after an unpleasant day of work finally caught up with her. Lillian's eyes slipped gently closed and the phone promptly dropped from her hands. She naturally worried as the clatter of it hitting the ground reached her sensitive ears. Phones were expensive. She'd check on it in the morning. For a little while, Lillian would sleep. She'd cuss the author through the comment section when she woke up.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
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