Ghostlywatcher

Kael was never meant to be a hero. Bullied, broken, and betrayed by the world, the 95 kg high school shut-in had nothing—no friends, no purpose, just scars hidden beneath his hoodie. But when the world begins to collapse into chaos, and God Himself unleashes judgment upon a sinful humanity through monstrous ancient beasts and divine reckoning, Kael is chosen.

Why?
Because even when the world was cruel, Kael remained righteous.

Gifted with Divine Echo, an S-rank ability that removes all limitations from any power he uses, Kael begins a transformation—both physical and spiritual. From obsessive training and relentless self-discipline, he sculpts his body into a weapon. From heartbreak and trauma, he forges a mind sharper than any blade. And from isolation, he builds resolve—unshakable and merciless.

But this is no fairytale redemption.
Kael isn’t here to save the world.
He’s here to survive it.

With humanity collapsing, safe zones crumbling, and ancient predators ruling the Earth, Kael must lead, fight, and manipulate his way through a new reality—one where power is truth and morality is a luxury.

He’s no longer the boy others could ignore.
He’s the ghost in the fog.
The saint with bloodstained hands.
The one whose echo will never fade.

Saint:My Daily Routine Became My Superpower

Kael stood amidst a graveyard of severed limbs and broken tech. Blood pooled beneath his feet, most of it not his. His breathing slowed, no longer heavy with fury, but thick with something else—sickness. Not of the body, but of the soul.

Just the quiet crackling of machinery in its death throes. Just the soft, nearly inaudible hum of dying lights flickering across shattered glass. And one small, shaky breath behind him.

She was lying where she had fallen, her arm blown apart, wires exposed, half of her face covered in soot and blood. Her synthetic eye sparked as it tried to refocus. Her body—part metal, part flesh—trembled.

Kael's eyes softened. He walked over, blood still dripping from him, coating his face, his arms, his entire frame like a living executioner.

She looked up at him—not in fear, but confusion. "Why… did you protect me?"

Kael crouched beside her, his voice low. "Because they made you a weapon… but you still have a soul."

He reached into one of the storage lockers nearby and found a clean sheet of cloth. Gently, he tore it and wrapped it around the worst of her wounds, slowing the bleeding. Her small hand weakly gripped his arm.

Most of the lab was still intact—the walls, the reinforced security systems, and most importantly, the archives. Kael's senses reached out, and he felt it: the presence of other containment rooms… still sealed. Still occupied.

He walked toward the nearest door and pressed his hand to the panel. It hissed open.

Inside, barely lit by a single flickering tube, were rows of glass cylinders. Each one held an experiment: twisted children with wings, horned humans curled in fetal positions, boys with scales and girls with third eyes.

"What did they do…" he whispered.

None of them were awake. Some of them… weren't even alive.

Kael clenched his fists. The divine voice from his awakening echoed in his mind:

"Cleanse what they corrupted. Be the sword of My justice."

He turned and began opening all the chambers. Every hybrid still clinging to life—he pulled out. Some cried. Some flinched in fear. Some were too far gone to speak.

He didn't look away from any of them.

He carried them, one by one, placing them gently outside the lab's threshold, under the open sky for the first time. The chimera girl tried to crawl out too, and Kael lifted her without hesitation.

As he laid her down among the others, she looked up. "What now?"

Kael looked back at the burning wreckage of the lab. "Now I destroy every place like this."

She blinked, her voice soft. "You're not a monster."

He turned, activated his veil, and vanished into the morning fog.

But before leaving, he carved a message into the lab's steel entrance with the edge of his blade:

After the Wrath