The cold wind of Glaive City's lower district howled between rusted buildings and cracked cobblestone. A boy, no older than eighteen, moved silently through the shadows. His white hair fluttered beneath the hood of a ragged coat, a faded red scarf trailing behind him—torn, like the past he never spoke of.
A black mask concealed his face. No mouth. No nose. Just a single glowing blue line where his left eye should be.
"Target in range," he muttered, his voice barely audible beneath the hum of the city's neon signs.
From the darkness ahead, a crowd of beast-like figures—humanoid in shape—jeered and laughed, oblivious to his presence.Class-A delinquents. Drunk on stolen power.
He stepped forward.
Dark energy pulsed around him. A black aura—strange and unstable—rippled outward. With it came numbers, glowing red and negative: -99. -73. -54. But as they swirled, they began to shift… changing, mutating, turning green and blue—turning positive.
+3. +14. +20.
This wasn't just manna. It was something else. A conversion.
A reversal of fate itself.
"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" one of the beasts barked, charging at him.
The boy didn't answer.
In a blink, he was behind the beast.Glowing particles faded from his left hand. The enemy collapsed before it even reached him—its head rolling off its shoulders, blood pooling on the cracked stone.
"My name… doesn't matter," the boy said quietly. "I'm just here to take back what was stolen. But if you must know…"
He stepped into the shadows, leaving only the bodies behind.
"…My name is Zero."
They said Zero had no legacy.
But legends are born from the unseen, the unheard—the overlooked.
He was E-Rank on paper. But even the system couldn't measure what he carried. Because what he bore wasn't a blessing…
It was a curse.
And it was time the world remembered what happens when you corner a ghost.
The camera pans through the shadows of a vast, echoing cave. Stalactites drip slowly from the ceiling. The air is thick with silence.
Then—without warning—
A glowing blue portal tears open in midair, swirling like liquid lightning and casting shimmering reflections across the damp cavern floor. A gust of arcane wind bursts forth as four figures emerge, silhouettes against the radiant vortex.
The light pulses behind them, illuminating armor, weapons, and wary expressions.
They've arrived.
First to step through is a towering colossus of a man—
Bald, over eight feet tall, his presence like a landslide. A deep scar runs across his face, just above stern, furrowed brows. His iron armor groans under the weight of a monstrous two-headed axe strapped to his back. His scowl says it all: he's not here to negotiate.
Next comes a figure cloaked in motion—
A young man, average in height but sharp in presence. Dressed in a sleek black combat jacket, ninja stars clink at his waist. His spiky black hair is tipped with green, matching the glint in his eyes. Two short swords rest across his back, polished and deadly. His light armor hugs him like a second skin—built for silence and speed.
Then, a graceful step, like a ripple in still water—
A woman in flowing purple mage robes. Her long, violet hair is tied in a high ponytail that shimmers like silk. She holds a staff crowned with a floating white orb, glowing with mystical energy. Her violet eyes gleam faintly, charged with ancient knowledge.
And last, he appears—
Stepping through the portal like a ghost.
Zero. Just eighteen, average in height, but with the weight of lifetimes in his gaze. His white, spiky-coily hair flickers like torn feathers. Tattered clothes cling to him—worn from travel and time. No weapons. Just a massive, beat-up bag slung over his back.
But it's his eyes—sharp, glowing cyan—that stand out most. He doesn't look angry. He doesn't look afraid.
He looks empty.
And thus, the four step into a world that has long forgotten heroes.
Into the Dungeons.
The winding cave system is eerily quiet. No beasts. No traps. No blood. Each chamber is untouched by hostility.
Too quiet.
They loot treasure chests in silence, moving from room to room—until they reach a dead end.
Choosing to rest before returning to the surface, Zero leans against a wall.
Click.
The stone beneath him shifts.
"Wha—?!"
In a flash, Zero plummets into darkness, vanishing into a hidden chamber.
Zero awoke with a groan. His head throbbed, his body ached. He immediately checked his status window.
No party members listed.
They had either left… or the system could no longer detect them.
His gaze darkened.
"So this is it, huh?" he muttered. "This is how I die. Alone. Forgotten. In some godforsaken dungeon."
But something inside him resisted.
He stood. Dusted himself off. And started walking.
Each step slow. Every hallway silent. No enemies. No loot. Only echoes.
Eventually, he found it: a strange stone door hidden in a far corner.
He pushed it open—
WHIRRRRR!
A swarm of bats burst from the darkness, flapping wildly in his face.
"Gah—!"
He flinched, heart pounding, though the bats were harmless.
Inside, a flickering blue torch lit the room. Against the wall slumped the body of a knight—armor rusted, helmet cracked.
But this wasn't any knight.
This was a dungeon guardian.
Already dead.
Zero approached, cautious. Something protruded from the knight's cloak.
He reached in. Pulled out a dust-covered, leather-bound book.
"Negation…" he whispered.
He opened it, expecting an ancient spell, a technique—something.
Instead, one line.
One incantation.
It felt alive.
Without hesitation, Zero read it aloud:
"Misfortune undone, fate reversed—let the curse bless its bearer.
Turn the tide, shatter the chain—curse, become my blade.
By void unbound, let curse be crown—misfortune, obey thy master."
Pain exploded in his skull. A white-hot flash. He screamed, clutching his head.
His system window burst open—glitching, flickering.
Strange symbols poured from the book into his status window, glowing, ancient, burning into his soul. The book cracked with light, then disintegrated, turning to ash in his hands.
Zero collapsed.
...
"Hello… hello… WAKE UP!"
Zero's eyes snapped open. He stood in a space between dreams and death. Silent. Endless.
A voice again—
"Finally. I thought I'd have to slap your soul awake."
Glowing orbs floated before him. They fused, forming a radiant figure—terrifying and beautiful. Eyes like galaxies. Hair like flowing silver light.
"…What...What are you?" Zero asked, dazed.
"A guide. A voice older than fate. But for now, you may call me… the Goddess."
"…Where am I?"
"Between sleep and reality. A sacred space—reserved for those touched by destiny's shift."
She walked around him, graceful and ethereal.
Zero narrowed his eyes.
"What do you mean, shift?"
"Your curse has changed. You still bear Bad Omen—the mark of misfortune. But now, deep within, a dormant power has awakened. One forged through suffering."
She raised her hand, summoning spectral visions—flashes of failure, pain, close brushes with death.
"You've unlocked a hidden perk," she said.
"Negation."
"…Negation?" Zero echoed.
"The power to reverse misfortune. Where once bad luck struck, now it strikes others. Traps will spring on your enemies. A critical blow will miss you by a hair. Disaster becomes your weapon."
He blinked.
"…So I'm lucky now?..."
The Goddess smirked. "Not quite."
The orbs around them flickered, darkening.
"Bad Omen still lives within you. It cannot be removed. It's part of your soul. Negation suppresses it… but not always. Fate still slips through the cracks."
"So I can't fully escape it?"
"No one escapes fate. But you, Zero… you've learned to bend it. And that makes you dangerous."
...
A short silence followed between the two.
Then she raised her hand, revealing a dungeon gate—twisted vines, black stone, the howl of monsters echoing behind it.
"For your first trial," she said. "A dungeon lies beyond this gate. At its core: a beast crowned in blood—the Goblin King."
"You want me to kill it?" Zero asked, disbelief in his voice.
"Slay the king. Conquer the dungeon. And in return…"
The image shifted—to a black artifact glowing with runes. A cloak woven from starlight.
"…You'll receive an Artifact of Reversal. A relic that strengthens Negation—giving you control over when it activates. A power few mortals have ever wielded."
Zero grinned.
"So all I have to do is survive a dungeon crawling with goblins and a bloodthirsty king?"
The Goddess smiled.
"Survive… or thrive. That's up to you."
As her form began to fade, she left him with one final whisper—
"The world that cast you out is watching..."
"...Zero.
Show them what it means to be cursed…
and still rise."