End of the Line

Dark clouds hung low over the city, pressing down like a weight. The rain had stopped hours ago, but the streets still glistened under the neon haze of a dozen flickering signs. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed—a lonely sound swallowed by the pulse of the metropolis.

I staggered down the alley, blood dripping from my fingers.

My vision blurred at the edges, my breath ragged and uneven. Every step sent fresh jolts of pain through my ribs. My right arm hung limp at my side, dislocated at the shoulder. The fight had gone south fast, and now I was paying the price.

I knew better than to run jobs for people I didn't trust. But the money had been too good, and I'd been too desperate. Now I was bleeding out in an alley, another fool chewed up and spat out by the underworld.

A shape moved ahead of me.

I tried to raise my guard, but my body was too slow. Boots crunched against the wet pavement, and then a figure stepped out of the shadows, blocking my path.

"Going somewhere, Ash?"

I knew that voice.

Kalos.

I forced my gaze up, swallowing the pain. He stood a few paces away, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips. His dark coat billowed slightly in the artificial wind of the city's ventilation shafts. The blade in his hand gleamed, still wet with my blood.

I clenched my teeth. "You set me up."

He tilted his head, pretending to think. "Set up? No, I'd call it more of an unfortunate miscalculation. You were supposed to die back there."

I spat, tasting iron. "Guess I'm tougher than you thought."

Kalos sighed. "You're persistent, I'll give you that. But persistence doesn't change the outcome." He took a step forward. "You should've stayed in your lane, Ash. Nobody crosses them and walks away."

Them. The people pulling his strings. The ones who had planned all of this. I had been a pawn, a disposable piece in a game I didn't understand. And now the board was being wiped clean.

I tried to move, to run, to do something, but my body refused to listen. The blood loss was catching up to me. My legs trembled, and my vision wavered.

Kalos shook his head, almost pitying. "Shame. You had potential."

Then he moved.

The knife flashed in the dim light.

And then—

Everything stopped.

A sharp chime rang in the air, crisp and unnatural. The world around me froze. Raindrops hung suspended in the air. The flickering neon lights halted mid-glow. Even Kalos stood motionless, his blade mere inches from my chest.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, a voice spoke.

[User identified: Ash Renford.]

The words weren't spoken aloud. They echoed directly in my head, distant yet impossibly clear. Cold. Mechanical.

[Fatal state detected. Initiating last-resort protocol.]

My breath hitched. What the hell was this?

A wave of something unseen rolled over me. My mind burned, my thoughts splitting apart and reforming in an instant. I gasped, eyes widening as knowledge flooded into me—words and symbols I had never seen before, yet understood completely.

[System calibration… complete.]

And then—

[Welcome to the Apex System.]

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I could feel it now—something vast, something incomprehensible settling into my very existence. It wasn't just words. It was a presence. A force.

[Designation: Ash Renford.]

[Rank: Unassigned.]

[Initiating Awakening.]

I sucked in a sharp breath as fire surged through my veins. It wasn't literal fire, but it might as well have been. My broken ribs snapped back into place. My dislocated shoulder wrenched itself back with a sickening pop. My wounds closed, the pain vanishing as if it had never been there.

My body remembered how it should be—and then it became that.

And in the space of a heartbeat, the world resumed.

Kalos' knife plunged forward—

And I caught it.

The steel bit into my palm, but the pain was distant, insignificant. My grip tightened, stopping the blade mere inches from my chest.

Kalos' eyes widened. "What—?"

I moved before he could react. My other hand shot up, fingers closing around his wrist. I twisted, yanking him off balance. He stumbled, and I drove my knee into his gut.

He coughed, spitting blood.

[System function unlocked: Combat Instinct (Lv.1).]

The words flashed through my mind, and suddenly, I knew what to do. My body understood the motions, as if they had always been mine.

Kalos tried to recover, tried to twist away, but he was already too slow. My fist crashed into his jaw. His head snapped back. He staggered, barely keeping his footing.

He looked up at me, eyes filled with something new—fear.

"What the hell are you?"

I didn't answer. I stepped forward, grabbed his collar, and slammed him against the alley wall. The knife clattered to the ground.

"You set me up," I said, my voice steady now. Stronger. Different.

Kalos tried to laugh, but it came out as a wet cough. "Doesn't matter… They'll kill you anyway."

I leaned in slightly. "Who?"

He shook his head, smirking even as blood dribbled down his chin. "Doesn't matter."

I felt it then. A shift in the air. A whisper at the edge of my awareness.

[Warning: Hostiles detected.]

I turned my head just in time to see them.

Figures emerging from the darkness at the mouth of the alley. Black suits, smooth movements, no wasted motion.

They weren't street thugs.

They were professionals.

And they were here for me.