June 8, 2147

The world ended not with a whisper, but with a siren.

Sirens screamed across the continent as the first bombs fell. Cities once lit with neon and laughter were swallowed by flames. A war that had been boiling beneath the surface for decades finally erupted: America versus Asia. No one was spared. Not even those who had never picked up a weapon.

Chris had never wanted to be a soldier. He had trained his body from childhood—not for war, but for control. Ten years old when he began, he was driven by discipline, by purpose. By the belief that strength without balance was weakness.

At thirty, Chris stood carved from years of training. Every movement was deliberate. Every breath was accounted for. He was a master of his own body. But not, as he would soon learn, of his fate.

His wife, Crystal, was everything he wasn't. Where he was silent and cold, she was warm and loud and endlessly curious. Together, they found a balance. For four years, they loved like the world would never end.

Then, it did.

He was watching the news the moment it happened. Reports of escalating tensions. Political analysts spewing predictions. Then static. Then fire.

A bomb had dropped—massive, unrelenting. The blast radius: two hundred miles. Crystal worked in that city. No warning. No evacuation. Just dust.

Chris's scream filled the empty room, ripping through his lungs like broken glass. He ran. He ran until his legs collapsed beneath him, until his heart begged him to stop. But there was no one left to hear him cry.

The blast hadn't killed him. But it had left his body broken, his skin burned, and his soul hollow. He spent six months in a government facility turned emergency hospital. Machines mended what they could. Doctors whispered about his recovery with awe. They called him the miracle survivor.

But Chris knew better.

He wasn't alive. He was surviving.

When he was discharged, he didn't return to society. He went home—or what was left of it. The house had collapsed in on itself. Ash and steel. Ruin and silence. But beneath it all, untouched by the devastation, was a secret.

An underground bunker. Built in secret, funded by private contracts and untraceable crypto. A place meant for experiments. For escape. Now, it was his tomb.

Or his forge.

There, in the cold blue light of his lab, Chris made a choice.

"I won't let this world exist."

It wasn't grief anymore. It was something darker. Something clear. He had given his life to people. And people had given him back death. He had poured love into a world that only knew destruction. Now, he would return that destruction tenfold.

He needed time.

So he called the only man he trusted: Dr. James Holloway, a physicist too smart for his own good and too paranoid for the public eye. Years ago, James had shown Chris something wild, something unbelievable.

A machine that bent time.

"Send me back," Chris said when James finally arrived. "As far as it'll go. I need to learn everything."

James hesitated. "You might never return."

Chris looked at the sky through the cracks in the concrete above. "There's nothing left to return to."

The machine roared to life.

And with a flash of light and a ripple through the quantum dust, Chris vanished from 2147.

He traveled for over a thousand years.

From ancient Japan to war-torn Rome, from tribal Africa to high-tech future empires—Chris studied. He bled. He watched civilizations rise and crumble. He fought in battles whose names were never recorded, learned every known fighting style, dissected military strategy from every era, and trained with weapons both primitive and advanced.

He became a scholar of destruction. A master of pain. A god of war.

When he finally stepped back into his own time, it was no longer 2147. It was February 15, 2019.

He had returned before the war. Before the end. Before the governments had finished writing their own death sentences.

He had a new name now.

Rex.But the world would come to know him by another:

Kazeshini.The Death Wind.

A silent storm had returned from time itself—smarter, stronger, and with a single goal:To erase mankind from history.

Rex had come to a decision.

He would need an army.

Not one built from trained soldiers or disciplined recruits—but an army of the forgotten. People like himself: lonely, broken, smothered in pain. Men and women who carried suffering like a second skin, with hatred rooted deep in their hearts. People who had lost everything and now lived for nothing.

But Rex wasn't looking only for the damned. He wanted contradiction—those who held both virtue and sin inside them. The kind of people who still remembered compassion, but had been denied peace. From this vision, an idea formed. He would not have generals.

He would have commandments.

Ten of them.

His lieutenants. Each one handpicked. Each one an extension of his will.

To find them, Rex would have to travel. He began in the scorched ruins of what had once been California—a city now stripped of its humanity.

He arrived to find nothing but destruction.

A bomb had fallen weeks ago, but its shadow still lingered. Buildings reduced to twisted metal and ash. Streets littered with the remains of lives interrupted. And amidst the wreckage, Rex found them—laughing.

Fifteen soldiers in black armor, boasting about their profits, joking about the suffering they'd caused. Their commander, a man named Jacob, stood smugly among them, recounting how much money they'd made "cleaning up" the city.

Rex stepped forward.

"Do you feel nothing?" he asked, voice low. "Nothing from all this destruction and suffering you've caused?"

Jacob glanced over, unimpressed. "I don't have to explain myself to a powerless nobody."

A cold fury stirred in Rex's chest.

"Do you not fear retribution?" he asked, eyes locked on the man.

Jacob barked a laugh. "And who's going to bring that? You?"

Rex said nothing. He took one step closer.

Jacob sneered. "Who the hell do you think you a—"

"I am the voice of the people," Rex said.

And then, he drew Cerberus—his custom sidearm, forged in vengeance—and in the space between two heartbeats, the battlefield went silent.

Fifteen soldiers dropped to the ground before they could lift their rifles.

When Jacob finally moved, Rex was already upon him. A flurry of calculated strikes—wrists, knees, throat—disarmed and disabled him in seconds. Jacob collapsed, gasping, limbs twitching.

Rex stood over him.

"I offer this selfish soul to you," he whispered to no one and everyone. "With this gun, I open the gates… to deliver you."

Bang.

One shot to the heart.

Bang.

One to the head.

Jacob's body went still.

Rex holstered Cerberus and turned without a word, continuing his journey into the heart of California's ruins.

The world had forgotten justice.

He had not.

Rex came across a man wandering the dusty outskirts of California City, barefoot and broken.

His name was Danny, and he'd given up on everything—including hope.

Rex approached him."You look like a man who's seen the truth," he said.Danny didn't even look up. "The truth? You mean the truth that men are selfish cowards? That truth?"

Rex tilted his head. "Tell me what happened."

Danny sighed and sat down on a nearby slab of broken concrete."It was when the bombings began," he said. "I was on vacation with my family and some friends. We were in the hills when the first strike hit. I got trapped under rubble. My family tried to dig me out, but my friends… they ran."

A long silence followed.

"And then... my family ran too. Left me there. Abandoned me."

His fists clenched."When I finally got out, bloodied and half-dead, I searched for them—only to find their corpses. All of them."

He looked up at Rex, eyes filled with fury."I hate men. I hate how they betray each other. How they lie, run, abandon, and destroy."

Rex nodded slowly."And yet, here you are—alive. You endured.""I survived," Danny said bitterly. "But for what?"

Rex met his gaze, calm and commanding."Would you follow me in the destruction of mankind? I swear to you—I will never abandon you."

Danny narrowed his eyes. "Why should I trust a man I just met—even one who acknowledges me?"

Rex stepped closer, shadows dancing around him like silent flames."You won't follow me. You'll stand beside me. You are one of my Ten Commandments. From this day forward, your name is Taken—Heavenly Punishment."

Danny blinked. "Taken?"

"Your commandment will be Selflessness—the power to sacrifice all, even yourself, for what is right. We will overturn every corrupt system, just as I destroyed the one who ruled this city in selfishness. California City is in ruin because of his greed. And I ended him."

Danny's expression shifted from defiance to awe. "That was... you?"

Rex nodded solemnly. The sadness in his eyes caught Danny off guard.

"Then why do you look so sad?"

"I hate taking life," Rex replied. "But when the world wounds my heart with its selfishness—I will act. I will deliver justice, no matter the cost."

Danny stared at him for a long moment, the fire of purpose returning to his eyes.

"I'll follow you," he said quietly.

Rex raised his hand and touched Danny's forehead, his voice a whisper of power."Then return in time. Relive your pain. Let it forge you into something the world has never seen."

A flash of light engulfed Danny as he was sent back—to learn, to endure, and to rise again as Taken.

Further down the path, Rex encountered a young boy who looked like he'd survived the end of the world.

His name was Zack.

He was thin, bruised, with eyes that had seen too much.

Rex—now going by Kazeshini, the name of judgment—asked, "What happened to you?"

Zack didn't hesitate. "They killed my grandfather."

He clenched his jaw.

"In my hometown, everyone mocked me. Because I believed in him. They said he was crazy. Said I was worse for loving him."

He looked away, fists trembling."But I didn't care. I knew who he really was."

"One day—just before the bombs—they dragged him out and murdered him. The whole town turned on him."

Zack's voice dropped into a whisper:"I hate man. And I've devoted myself to their destruction."

Rex's expression hardened—not toward Zack, but toward the world that made him this way.The people who still dared to call themselves innocent.

He turned, and without a word, walked toward Zack's town.

When he reached its gates, he drew his gun—Archangel Michael.

He aimed at the town square.

"I will deliver you to the gate," he said coldly. "I do not seek forgiveness for myself—but for those who suffer and never see justice. Today, the unjust will face consequence."

The execution began.

Six were lined up and struck down with a single curve shot.

Then twenty-four more as Rex leapt into the air, firing like divine judgment from above.

He moved like wind. Silent. Final.

In less than 20 minutes, the entire town was gone.

Rex stood in the blood-soaked ruins and whispered:"You did not survive the wrath born of your injustice."

He returned to Zack, still trembling in shock.

"I delivered justice for your grandfather," Rex said. "And I will bring justice to this world. Not with hatred—but with righteous fire."

He held out his hand.

"Will you follow me—not out of vengeance, but out of purpose?"

Zack fell to his knees. "Yes... my savior. My god. I will serve you forever."

Rex touched his shoulder.

"Then rise, Piety. You are the second of my Ten Commandments."

Smoke coiled through the ruined village like dying breath. The sky above was thick with ash, casting the earth in a sickly gray hue. The ground, blackened and cracked, looked like the night sky turned inside out — scorched by fire and war.

Rex stepped into the remnants of the village, silent as a ghost. Charred bones and broken homes lined the road. Laughter echoed in the distance — cruel, mocking.

He approached the town square.

There, a squad of soldiers lingered. Four of them, with the fifth — their captain — standing tall among the corpses, laughing as if the massacre had been sport.

Kevin, the captain, sneered."At least they could've put up a decent fight."Soldier #1 chuckled. "Right, Captain. They cried about how we couldn't just take over their village, like we wouldn't do whatever we want. Hah!"Soldier #2 joined in. "I was expecting more from these people. Weaklings."Soldiers #3 and #4 cackled, stomping around the bodies like they were trophies.

But the laughter died the moment Rex moved.

His voice was silent, but his fists roared."Wind Dragon: Soaring Bite Strike!"

He soared through the air, hands pressed together. With one palm strike, he shattered Soldier #2's ribs, sending him flying two meters. He died instantly.

Before the others could react—"Water Dragon: Tsunami Tail Strike!"His kick landed with explosive force, snapping Soldier #1's arm and cracking his rib cage. He dropped, gasping, then silent.

Kevin blinked—Rex was gone.

"Where—""Fire-Wind Dragon: Claw Strike!"

Bang. Boom. Bam.

A blur of fire and wind slashed through the last two soldiers. They hit the ground, twitching before going still, eyes wide with the terror of death.

Kevin turned to run. But a single gunshot rang out.

He froze.

Rex stood behind him, holding a black weapon, forged in silence and fury. Kevin collapsed to his knees, then to the ground.

"I have freed the world of you and your sin," Rex said. "May your next life guide you to justice."

Later, at the edge of the island, Rex found two twins—Hakeem and Amara—alone, staring out to the sea.

"Why are you here?" Rex asked.

Amara turned, eyes wide and pure. "A meteor crashed in the mountains. A private army came for it... they killed everyone who saw it."

Rex's eyes narrowed. "Why doesn't your brother speak?"

"He only speaks when it's important."

Rex turned to Hakeem. "Where is the meteorite?"

Hakeem hesitated. "Why do you want it?"

Rex stepped forward, eyes burning with purpose. "To end evil. To give justice to the suffering. I will purge mankind's wickedness."

Hakeem held his gaze. Then: "I want to join your cause."

Rex turned to Amara. She stepped forward. "I would be honored to follow you. The world must change."

Rex nodded. "Then understand this: my army will live for me alone. But I promise you this — the world will know justice, in purity and in silence. We will save them… from themselves."

Amara and Hakeem bowed, presenting the meteorite — a glowing shard, pulsing with strange, cosmic energy.

Rex sent them off on a mission.

Then he flew to Africa.

From the open hatch of a military plane, he dove into an undisclosed region, searching for a diamond large enough to fuse with the meteorite — to forge Titan Vana, a new metal.

A weapon of judgment.