The Passed Future

Ray stared at the board, though he barely registered the marker scribbles forming equations. The teacher's voice carried on in the background. He sat stiffly at his desk, his pen unmoving on the blank page of his notebook.

'This isn't what I should be doing right now,' he thought, his jaw tightening.

Outside the window, sunlight streamed through the trees, dappling the pavement. Everything looked so... normal. A cruel illusion masking the storm that would consume the world in just one year.

His foot tapped against the tiled floor, a subtle release for the frustration boiling inside him. The weight of his memories pressed down like a suffocating blanket, impossible to ignore.

He closed his eyes, and the classroom faded away. His mind pulled him back to the chaos of his previous life.

.

.

.

It started with the dungeons. One moment, humanity was thriving, moving forward with its usual squabbles and advancements. The next, the earth split open, and colossal towers of black stone erupted across the world.

Curiosity turned to terror when the first monsters emerged. Hulking beasts with jagged claws, scales impervious to bullets, and eyes glowing with malice. Armies were deployed, but their weapons might as well have been toys. Tank shells bounced off thick hides, and entire platoons were wiped out in minutes.

Panic set in. Governments fell into chaos. Cities turned into slaughterhouses as people tried, and failed to escape. 

Ray remembered the first time he saw a dungeon break. He was just a boy then, but the image of those monsters tearing through the streets was burned into his memory.

But then, humanity found hope.

The Awakened. Ordinary men and women who suddenly gained extraordinary powers. They appeared seemingly at random, drawn into the chaos like moths to a flame. Each one had a status screen, a mysterious interface visible only to them. It detailed their abilities and listed their strengths, but unlike a game, it didn't allow them to grow stronger with a simple push of a button.

No shortcuts. The only way to grow stronger was through effort, determination, and the cards you were dealt when you awakened. Some were blessed with incredible starting abilities—flames that could burn through steel, shields that could withstand a monster's strike, or healing powers that defied logic. Others were less fortunate, left with powers barely useful in combat.

And then there was martial arts.

Ray's lips pressed into a thin line as he thought about it. While abilities were the cornerstone of an Awakened's strength, martial arts were the glue that held it all together.

Techniques honed through blood, sweat, and relentless training appeared on the status screen as passive skills, enhancing one's fighting style. It was the great equalizer—if you had the discipline to master it.

With the Awakened leading the charge, humanity began to push back. Dungeons were cleared, monsters were slain, and resources from the fallen beasts were harvested and studied. Mana stones powered new technologies. Magical weapons were forged, capable of cutting through the toughest of scales. Slowly, humanity regained its footing.

For a time, there was hope.

.

.

.

Ray's fingers tightened around the edge of his desk, his knuckles turning white. He could still see it in his mind, the day that hope turned to ash.

Dungeons, once seen as sources of wealth and power, had become a double-edged sword. Low-level dungeons were deliberately left untouched, their resources too valuable to waste. It was a calculated risk, and for years, it seemed to pay off.

Until it didn't.

The Dungeon Breaks came without warning. All at once, every uncleared dungeon on Earth erupted, spilling monsters into the world like a flood. Cities burned. Governments collapsed. Billions died.

Ray had been there, fighting on the front lines. He remembered the screams, the blood, the unrelenting despair. They had been outnumbered, outmatched, and completely unprepared.

But humanity didn't give up. The survivors gathered on a massive stretch of land in America. Rivals, enemies, strangers—it didn't matter. They were all that was left.

An artifact, its origins unknown, was brought forth. It created the Barrier, an impenetrable dome of energy that shielded the survivors from the horrors outside. 

Inside, humanity began to rebuild.

The guild system was abolished. Every remaining hunter, no matter their rank or allegiance, was united under the banner of the Hunter Association. Training academies were established, resources were pooled, and a single goal was set: reclaim the world.

.

.

.

Ray's mind shifted to a darker memory. His team, the people he had fought beside for years, had stumbled upon the artifact deep within a dungeon. The Eye of Chronos.

At the time, they hadn't understand its significance. It was just another prize in a sea of treasure, something to be analyzed later. 

Ray always wore that artifact on his neck after making a pendant out of it. Because it reminded him of his failure. He didn't want to forget his failure. 

The failure to protect his dearest, 

His wife...

But,

They had no idea it held the power to manipulate time itself. But now he knows.

'So, this thing brought me back.' Ray thought as he eyed the damaged, now silver locket below the bench.

Ray's breath hitched as the scene played out in his mind. Tianhu, the Nine-Tailed World Demon, loomed above them, its eyes burning with unholy fire.

His team had fought valiantly. They had given everything—blood, sweat, tears, and ultimately, their lives. Ray had watched them fall, one by one, even Daniel... their sacrifices paving the way for his final strike.

And when the beast finally collapsed, its massive form crashing to the ground, the silence that followed was deafening.

Victory.

But at what cost?

Because in the next moment, that bastard arrived...-

"Ray!"

–?!!

The sharp voice snapped him back to reality. He blinked, disoriented, as the classroom came into focus. He quickly, but casually hid the locket in his pant pocket. The teacher stood at the front, her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on him.

"Are you even paying attention?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the quiet murmurs of the class.

Ray stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Around him, his classmates exchanged amused glances, some stifling laughter.

"Hey, Ray. Still thinking about Nike Tyson?"

"Naah, man. More like Jennifer Donnelly."

–Hahahaha!...

He did not pay any attention to their chatter, completely ignoring the teasing of his classmates.

Slowly, Ray stood. The legs of his chair scraped against the floor, the sound sharp and jarring in the still room. He met the teacher's gaze, his eyes calm but unwavering.

"Ma'am," he said, his voice steady, "I quit."

.

.

.

The room fell silent.

"Wh-What did you say?" she asked, her tone disbelieving.

"I said I quit," Ray repeated. He gathered his belongings into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, his movements slow and deliberate. "I don't have time for this."

Before she could respond, he turned and walked toward the door. The whispers of his classmates followed him, but he ignored them...

The hallway was empty, the faint hum of fluorescent lights the only sound. Ray's footsteps echoed as he made his way to the exit.

Outside, the world was deceptively calm. The sky was blue, the air was crisp, and the city buzzed with life.

Ray tightened his grip on his bag.

'One year,' he thought. 'One year to prepare. This time, I'll be ready.'

And with that, he walked away, leaving his dumbfounded teacher and classmates behind...

---

(image)

.

.

.

.