Forty years ago, an unknown entity showed up on Earth.

Called himself a God.

But not just any god—the God of Games.

He didn't ask.

He invited.

A deadly invitation no one could refuse.

Then chaos broke loose.

Monsters of every shape and size poured into the world—creatures born of nightmares.

Human weapons were useless.

No bullets, no bombs, no swords could touch them.

Humanity bled.

Friends died.

Families were torn apart.

The world was pushed to the edge of extinction.

Hope flickered.

Almost died.

But then—

A spark.

The desperate awakened power.

Abilities that shattered logic.

They called themselves the Chosen.

Blessed—or cursed—by a force called Nexar.

Their powers passed down through generations, an inheritance soaked in blood.

At first, it seemed like salvation.

But salvation has its price.

The Chosen were ripped from their lives—thrown into a world beyond this one.

To face brutal trials called Challenges.

The stakes?

Simple.

Live. Or die.

Only the strongest survive.

Welcome to the Life Death Game.

No mercy. No second chances.

You're either a player… or you're a pawn.

Far from the eyes of the world, hidden in shadows, stands Pyrax Academy.

A fortress for the Chosen.

A crucible forged by the government to shape youth into hunters—Pyrax—their last defense.

The night was black as ink.

The full moon hung heavy, a pale sentinel in the sky.

Hundreds of youths were loaded into armored black trucks.

No light. No air from outside.

Nothing allowed in or out without control.

Not even hope.

Inside Truck B2_78KS—The Special Unit—it was silent.

Unlike the chaos of the others, this truck held quiet broken souls.

Eyes told stories no words could touch.

Broken pasts.

Fractured futures.

Among them, the government's last hope.

No one dared speak.

No one dared trust.

Until a soft chuckle sliced through the silence.

A girl, alone in the corner—hood pulled tight, hiding her face.

Pink hoodie. White shorts. White sneakers.

Her laughter was defiance.

Annoying, but fearless.

Then came the heavy footsteps.

A shadow crashing through the truck—Mich.

A towering, dirty man with crimson eyes full of hate.

Everyone shrank back.

Mich wanted to break her.

Grabbed her by the collar—anger pouring from every word.

"Who the hell do you think you are, little bitch?"

She didn't flinch.

When her hood slipped off, the air shifted—her vermilion eyes burned like a warning flare.

She was something else.

Ethereal.

Mich growled but was cut off—

"Yo, bro, why you shouting?"

He turned—no one there.

She vanished, leaving only a torn teddy bear in his grasp.

A shadow in a game he didn't understand.

And then—

Karze stepped up.

Curly black hair, baggy hoodie, eyes like a flowing river—alive, calm.

Mich sneered but Karze wasn't afraid.

Words flew.

Fists followed.

In a blur, Karze struck—power crushing Mich to the floor with shockwaves that rattled the truck.

Everyone stared, mouths agape, unable to follow the speed.

Karze walked away, cool as ice, and sat beside Evae, the girl with the sketches.

Their quiet moment a fragile island in the storm.

Hours passed.

Evae talked in her sleep—words of longing, of "why can't we be more..."

Karze watched, heart heavy.

So much he wanted to say.

So much he couldn't risk.

Because if he spoke, he'd lose her.

The truck jerked to a stop.

Subtle, but enough.

Karze's lips curled into a dark smirk.

"This is gonna be one hell of a welcome..."

Eyes flicked open around the truck—hope sparking in tired faces.

They had arrived.

Their promised land.

Or so they thought.

Some of the Chosen were stirring.

Confusion carved deep lines on their faces.

But Karze?

He stayed seated, steady as stone.

Evae's head rested on his shoulder—soft, fragile.

His eyes locked on the truck's steel door.

Not yet.

A chill crawled beneath his skin.

Something was out there.

Closer. Faster.

It wasn't here to welcome them.

But what kind of monster would dare come to the Academy... unless—

His thoughts fractured as Evae stirred, blinking sleep from her eyes.

Karze turned, eyes lighting up, a warm smile breaking through the dark.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

She yawned, rubbed tired eyes, still heavy but alive.

"Huh... morning? How do you know it's morning?"

He shrugged, casual, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"I don't know. Just... what people say after someone wakes up, right?"

She shrugged back, a tired smile.

"Guess so..."

Around them, the others shifted—standing, alert, eyes glued to the armored door like it was the gate to hell.

The truck held its breath.

Every second stretched thin.

The door cracked open.

Just a shove away from bursting wide.

But no one dared move.

Instinct pinned them in place.

Out there… something waited.

Its presence slithered in, whispering death to every nerve.

Step outside, and they'd all die.

"Karze… what's happening?"

Evae's voice was soft, trembling with worry.

He turned to her, smile still calm, steady.

"Nothing really. Think of it as... an entrance exam."

"Entrance exam?!"

Her eyes widened, confusion cracking her voice.

Karze's gut tightened.

He knew the truth.

Pyrax Academy wasn't a school.

It was a crucible.

A trap designed to weed out the weak.

They were the prey.

The rats in a cage full of hungry cats.

He stood slowly.

Evae rose with him.

"Hold onto something," he said, voice low.

She scanned the truck, found a spot on the wall and grabbed it.

Karze's fingers slipped into the jagged seams of the metal plating.

His lips curled into a smirk.

A spark of wild excitement lit his eyes.

He was about to break the rules.

"Hey," he said, "what's the craziest ride you've ever been on?"

She blinked.

"Um... ride? Crazy?"

"Yeah."

"Karze... I've never been on a crazy ride."

He chuckled, remembering.

"Oh... that's right. Me neither."

His gaze snapped back to the door.

Predator locked onto prey.

The threat was seconds away.

"Shouldn't we warn the others?"

Her voice was tight with fear.

"What if something happens?"

Karze paused.

He weighed it.

Then before he could answer—

A shout cut through the tension.

"EVERYONE, HOLD ON TO SOMETHING! NOW!"

Karze grinned, bitter and amused.

"Guess there's someone smarter than the rest."

Panic exploded.

No one questioned the warning.

Hands scrambled for the cold steel walls.

Claws of desperation gripped every surface.

The truck trembled violently—like the earth itself had cracked beneath them.

Not an earthquake.

Footsteps.

Massive.

Thunderous.

Charging.

They were trapped.

Sitting ducks in a shooting gallery.

Closer. Louder.

Death was coming.

Hearts hammered.

Souls shattered.

And then—

SMASH.

The truck slammed as if hit by a freight train.

Metal screamed.

Darkness swallowed them whole.

Screams tore through the night—agonized, broken.

Flesh ripped.

Bones shattered.

The cleanser had arrived.

The moon wept blood, casting a ghostly silver sheen over the snow.

Silence lay thick across the mountain like a suffocating shroud.

Cold gripped every inch—an unseen predator stalking, waiting to pounce.

The trees loomed—towering, ancient, as if daring to pierce the heavens themselves.

Their leaves whispered secrets of the dead, rustling like soft sighs.

Somewhere deep in the forest, blood stained the snow crimson—fresh and brutal.

Shreds of flesh scattered like fallen leaves, scattered by an unseen storm.

Screams ripped through the night air—a dreadful summons to chaos.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

A massive armored truck lay on its side—broken, battered like a fallen beast.

Its metal skin torn, twisted, pierced by cruel spikes that jutted out like bones.

Around it, youths struggled—survivors of a nightmare.

Out of a hundred, only sixty-four still drew breath.

Limbs lost, bodies shattered, many unconscious, others dead.

The devastation was total.

But the survivors clung to life—barely.

For now.

Those with healing gifts scrambled to tend to the injured—hands trembling, desperate.

They barely knew each other, strangers cast together by fate and blood.

Yet pain forced them into uneasy kinship.

Not far from the wreck, a soft voice cut through the chaos.

Evae.

Her face pale, streaked with dirt and blood.

She knelt in the frozen snow, tears carving icy rivers down her cheeks.

Her hands clutched Karze's broken body like a lifeline.

She turned to him, eyes wide, heart shattered at the gaping wound in his chest.

Cold gripped her heart—metal forged in icy depths.

His skin paled, life slipping with every breath.

If nothing changed…

She dared not think it.

Gently, she set him aside—fragile as glass.

As she moved to rise, a weak hand caught hers.

She froze, breath stolen.

"K-Karze… you're…"

Words failed her.

Relief crashed over her—he was still here.

Still breathing.

His hand was soft but cold, as if blood no longer warmed it.

Her tears spilled free, a flood of joy and dread.

She pulled him close—desperate to feel life beneath her fingers.

"Ouch! Easy…"

His groan pulled her back, heart breaking.

A weak smile from her.

"Sorry…"

"Nah, it's nothing…"

His voice cracked.

Then he smelled it—blood.

Her blood.

His eyes snapped to her torn clothes—holes dripping fresh red.

A heartbeat skipped—thunder in his chest.

She had ignored her own wounds to save him.

Now she paid the price.

Ignoring his own pain, Karze surged up, catching her before she collapsed.

She was fading fast.

He tore off her hoodie.

What he saw chilled him—multiple wounds bleeding deep.

Chest, shoulder, stomach.

Her breath came ragged, lungs gasping.

Skin growing colder, faster.

---

FLASHBACK

"EVERYONE, HOLD ON TO SOMETHING! NOW!"

The shout cracked through chaos.

Hands scrambled for grips.

The truck screamed under impact—metal twisting, breaking.

Lights died.

The world flipped, crashed, shattered.

Those who lost their hold flew like rag dolls—bones breaking, flesh tearing.

Screams filled the metal coffin.

Karze clung to Evae, steadying her.

When the truck stilled on its side, he jumped free.

Helped her up, though she struggled to stand.

"You should sit," he said softly.

She obeyed.

Karze scanned the wreckage—injured everywhere, corpses like dead leaves.

His heart? Cold.

Dead.

People, all gone.

A white light pierced darkness—someone activated healing.

Others moved, trying to save what they could.

But unease twisted inside him—only the strong survived.

Was this the government's plan?

To butcher the weak mercilessly?

Failures became monsters.

Survivors grew stronger.

Gathered here, death's gatekeepers.

A cruel, perfect design.

Karze's gaze caught a girl—limbs broken, ribs jutting grotesquely.

Silver hair stained crimson.

Frosty blue eyes dimming.

School uniform.

Name: Sophia.

Her gaze locked with his—pleading without words.

She wanted release.

Mercy.

Death.

Karze knelt, eyes glassy silver—cold as the grave.

Their souls met—hers begging, his empty.

"I'm not saving you," he whispered, voice hollow as death itself.

"I'm only keeping you alive to face the pain coming."

She flinched.

He placed something in her mouth.

Agony shattered her—heart breaking, bones remaking.

She tried to scream.

No sound.

Darkness claimed her.

Karze faded from her sight.

---

BACK TO PRESENT

Karze held Evae—rage twisting his mind.

Summoned a white pill—the same as Sophia's.

Placed it in Evae's mouth.

Nothing.

A holographic screen flickered—ancient runes glowing ghostly violet and silver.

NEXAR's voice slithered through his mind—sweet poison, deadly calm.

! DANGER !

Chosen target unknown!

Blood contaminated with Necrothorn poison!

Moonlight's Blood may fail!

Further attempts risk death!

Proceed?

YES | NO

Karze clenched his jaw.

A gamble with death.

No one else could save her.

He wouldn't ask for help.

"I won't lose you..."

NEXAR's voice cut in cold and final.

NEW CHALLENGE RECEIVED.

Defeat the Necrothorn.

Reward:

Necrothorn's pure blood

Poison King status

Description:

Once impure as night, now pure as day.

Drink this blood to escape certain death.

No poison can harm you—for you are its King.

Karze stared.

The system toyed with him—maybe.

But the prize was worth the risk.

The beast was strong—his head still throbbed from its strike.

A spike cracked his skull.

Luck had spared him a fatal blow.

He stripped Evae's hoodie over her fragile frame.

Rose eyes no longer lively black but shimmering glassy silver.

His gaze sharp as razors.

Looking over his shoulder, he whispered—a deathly vow:

"Come out."

From the shadows stepped a girl—bloodied uniform, silver hair stained red.

Frosty blue eyes sharp and cold, like a viper ready to strike.

Sophia—the girl he saved before.

"You survived…"

Her voice careless, a shadow of worry lost.

"Did I look like a goner?"

She paused.

"Okay, maybe I did. But at least sound relieved I'm here."

He turned fully—his silver eyes made her recoil.

Her body screamed to flee—but she couldn't.

He said nothing.

Placed Evae in her arms.

She didn't protest.

Life owed him nothing.

He glanced at Evae, then vanished into the forest.

Sophia followed in silence, voice calm but fear buried deep.

"How do you plan to find it?"

Karze's eyes flicked back—sharp, icy.

"And how do you know?"

Her laugh was nervous.

"I can see people's challenges... only the ones they're doing though..."

He looked up at the bleeding moon—its image burned onto his corneas.

His voice dropped low—cold as winter's breath.

"As long as it lives… my blade will taste its blood and hear its last breath."

She didn't ask more.

She just watched him disappear.

One question burned in her mind—

Who is this man?