Jun-Hyuk ran his thumb over the intricate carvings on his sword, tracing the patterns as if they might somehow steady the storm of worry in his chest. He sat in the back of a military vehicle, speedily rumbling through the ruins outside Beijing’s city dome. With the threat of a level seven sphere creature, all contention was momentarily dropped as the best of the city dome’s forces were deployed as back-up. Jun-Hyuk supposed it was a familiar sense of community in the face of adversity just like on his earth.
Beside him, Lian Hua stared out the window, her reflection pale and haunted in the glass. Her hands twisted together in restless knots. “There hasn’t been a level seven sighting in almost a decade,” she muttered, her voice trembling. “The last one... wiped out an entire dome. Why now?” It was the hundredth time she’d repeated the same terrified question, as though saying it aloud might somehow make it less true.
Jun-Hyuk hadn’t known Lian Hua long, but she’d always exuded an air of poise and control, even in chaos. Seeing her unravel now only deepened his own unease. Desperate to inject some levity into the suffocating tension, he turned toward her with a feigned smile. “Don’t worry, Lian Hua. Everything will be fine as long as I, Feng Lei, am there.”
This only caused her face to darken. “You lost to a level four, Lei.”
Jun-Hyuk’s forced grin faltered, but before he could muster a response, a voice cut through the tension. From the front of the vehicle, the young military girl—Zhao Ruyi, he’d learned her name was—chuckled. “Don’t mind her pessimism, our guns will take out the threat in no time. She’s only like that because she lost her entire family in the last level seven attack.”
Zhao Ruyi’s words sent a pang through his heart. Lian Hua had lost her entire family? That revelation hit him like a weight to the chest, adding a new layer of understanding to her constant tension and fiery demeanor. Of course she’d be on edge—how could she not be, with memories like that clawing at her?
Before he could process it further, Lian Hua snapped her gaze toward Zhao Ruyi, her expression sharpening into a fierce glare. “Guns? You think those measly little hunks of metal are going to do anything?”
Zhao Ruyi shook her head with a wry smile. “And your swords will make a difference?”
“That’s enough of that girls. We’re almost there, let’s focus,” boomed General Tao Ren. He was the one in charge of the military personnel for this expedition.General Tao Ren was a broad-shouldered man with a square jaw, piercing black eyes, and a scar running diagonally across his left cheek, he looked every bit like one would expect from an seasoned military man. He carried himself like someone who was used to being obeyed, his tone firm but even.
The vehicle went silent, and with a small sigh, Jun-Hyuk turned towards the window. Outside, he could see the remnants of what was once a thriving city. The ground was now a haven for dust and debris, and crumbling skyscrapers and buildings dotted the landscape like abandoned children’s toys, their jagged silhouettes casting eerie shadows in the fading light. Broken streets twisted like scars, with skeletal trees sprouting through the cracks. His mind wandered to why he was here in the first place. Was he really here as a chance to become stronger, or was this world he now found himself in simply the fate awaiting his own? He hadn’t even had a chance to question the reason why he could now move back and forth between his world and this one. The black sphere in the sky loomed large in his thoughts, its oppressive presence stirring unease. He made a mental note to uncover more about its origins and the history behind the apocalypse that had reshaped this world.
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They suddenly came to a screeching halt, the tires kicking up clouds of dust that billowed into the suffocatingly still air. Around them, several other military vehicles followed suit, their engines growling to a stop. Jun-Hyuk’s breath hitched as he looked ahead—and he immediately saw why.
A massive creature loomed in the chaos, eerily similar in appearance to the wolf-moth he had fought yesterday. However, this one was far more grotesque, its hybrid body twisted with sickening detail. Thick, matted fur covered its humanoid frame, giving way to massive, membranous wings that twitched menacingly behind it. Its elongated face was part lupine snarl, part insectoid horror, with bulging compound eyes that glowed faintly in the dim light. He supposed the hybrid appearance of a wolf and moth was the signature theme of the sphere creatures, though this monstrosity seemed like an even darker exaggeration of the concept.
Originally, when Jun-Hyuk had first heard that this world was plagued by monsters, he’d imagined a vast variety of forms, with each new level marked by some distinct and terrifying design. But seeing this twisted abomination, he realized that wasn't the case—and briefly, he blamed his overactive imagination, too influenced by reading one too many webtoons.
This was also the first time Jun-Hyuk had seen Feng Lei’s father—technically his father in this world—in person. But it wasn’t hard to pick him out from the crowd of warriors battling the beast. He was a tall man with flowing black hair, his presence as commanding as the flames trailing his sword with every fierce swing. The fire surged with his movements, roaring to life like a vengeful dragon. That same fighting style told Jun-Hyuk all he needed to know: this was undeniably Feng Lei’s father.
Around him, thirteen other warriors fought valiantly, their weapons clashing against the creature with little effect. Among them, Jun-Hyuk guessed that two were Zhao Wei’s father and older brother, their expressions grim and sweat-slicked. But it was painfully clear that they were losing.
Most of the men were already covered in bruises and blood, their strikes growing sluggish. To make matters worse, every wound they managed to carve into the beast’s grotesque flesh closed almost immediately, sealing itself as if taunting them. The humanoid wolf-moth let out a deep, guttural laugh, its unnervingly wide grin revealing rows of jagged teeth. Its derision turned violent in the blink of an eye—it snatched up a warrior with one massive clawed hand and, without hesitation, bit the man cleanly in half.
Jun-Hyuk’s stomach churned as the monster roared triumphantly, its voice like a thousand discordant screeches layered together. It towered over them all, easily the size of six adult men stacked atop one another, its wings spreading out wide enough to block the sky. The ground beneath it seemed to tremble with every step, as though even the earth itself recoiled from its presence.