Several days ago, a perfectly rectangular portal tore open the sky above Seoul. It hung there, silent and ominous, defying all known physics. The government swiftly launched an investigation, dubbing it the "Dimensional Rift."

So far, nothing had happened. No disasters. No strange occurrences. The world held its breath, and then slowly began to exhale, mistaking silence for safety.

And yet...

That ominous gate never stopped filling me with a deep, primal unease—an invisible weight constantly pressing down on my chest. It was a conviction that something terrible was waiting in the silence, just beyond that shimmering rectangle.

Then—

A sudden gust of wind brushed past my right ear.

"Eeek!"

I jumped, shuddering, my heart slamming against my ribs. Whipping around, I glared at the culprit—

Only to see him standing there, grinning.

A boy with messy, bleached-pink hair and a signature teasing smile playing on his lips. He raised both hands in mock surrender.

"Hehe! Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to startle ya, Marumaru. Ya just looked so deep in thought. Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?"

Baek Suho.

My best friend since I'd transferred here at year 2 of high school. He was a paradox—a country boy with the effortless, dazzling confidence of a celebrity. Which, I supposed, he was training to become.

Everything about him was designed to stand out. The shock of pink hair, the sharp jawline, that annoyingly photogenic smile. Even his slouching posture had a practiced ease to it, like he was always on camera. And despite his idol trainee schedule, he somehow maintained a spot in the school's top five. It wasn't fair.

His uniform, of course, was a mere suggestion, worn open to reveal a bright pink T-shirt underneath.

I sighed, trying to slow my racing heart. "Don't scare me like that."

Behind him, I felt another intense gaze.

Yoo Seol.

Unlike Suho, she was the picture of perfection. Her uniform was flawlessly pressed, her tie exact, not a single wrinkle to be found. Even her watch looked impossibly expensive. Her sleek black hair was tied back in a severe ponytail, not a strand out of place. She stood with her arms crossed, already watching us with an expression of mild, familiar exasperation.

She never spoke of her family, but her quiet, unshakable composure screamed old money.

Suho, completely unfazed by her judgmental stare, grinned. "Pout, pout. C'mon, Seolseol, it was just a lil' teasing."

I was pretty sure I saw the subtlest sigh escape her lips.

"So?" Suho turned back to me, his eyes curious. "What's got you all spacey?"

I hesitated, my eyes drifting back to the window and the unnatural rectangle in the sky.

"I-I was just wondering... w-what might come out of that D-dimensional rift." My voice wavered, betraying my fear.

Suho's grin faded slightly. "The rift?"

Yoo Seol's hands moved swiftly, signing in Korean Sign Language—too fast for me to catch, as usual.

Suho, who understood her perfectly, translated without missing a beat. "She says it's trouble. Something bad."

I nodded. A shiver ran down my spine. So I wasn't the only one.

Then—

"Nude angel!"

"Bwuh?!"

I spun around to see Suho smirking, his serious mood vanishing as quickly as it came.

"Ha! Ya shoulda seen your face!" He burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the quiet courtyard.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. This is so embarrassing.

Yoo Seol simply pinched the bridge of her nose.

She signed something sharp, ending with a tiny, ironic finger-heart gesture—the kind an idol would throw to their fans.

Suho's smirk widened. "Nah, just with y'all. When I debut, I gotta act all proper—a cute lil' maknae with a funny accent. You two are gonna be my number one fans, got it?"

"Wee?" I blinked, confused. "Suho, you're the tallest person here."

At 198 cm, he towered over my 160 cm and even Yoo Seol's 162 cm. He loomed over everyone, even the older members of his trainee group.

"But I'm still the youngest," he insisted, puffing out his chest.

We both just stared at him.

Suho sweatdropped. "I mean... chronologically! I'm still a teenager!"

Yoo Seol's hands moved again, a quick series of gestures.

"Heh, she says people always mistake me for a teacher because of my height," he translated, his shoulders slumping. "Man, I wish I could shrink myself. I keep hitting my forehead on doorframes." He groaned dramatically. "And my mom says I'm still growing."

I let out a small, involuntary chuckle. This was the rhythm of our strange trio. Even though I'd only known them for a few months, their dynamic was a language I was still learning. Sometimes, I still felt like an outsider looking in.

Maybe it was because I was... well, just normal. Light brown hair, brown eyes, glasses. Nothing special. I wasn't dazzling like Suho or immovably composed like Yoo Seol. I just existed.

Then—as if a switch had been flipped—the playful glint in Suho's eyes disappeared.

His gaze turned serious, drifting back towards the rift.

"D'you reckon that thing's got somethin' to do with monsters?" His voice dropped, losing its playful Saturi twang. "Like in those fantasy web novels ya always read?"

I stiffened.

"Knights and Dungeons?" I asked slowly.

"Yeah. And the thing about... empaths?"

Empaths? Wait—did he mean... "Espers?"

Suho scratched his head, then held his hand out between us, palm up. Without another word, he concentrated.

A tiny arc of blue-white lightning crackled to life at his fingertips.

I froze.

Yoo Seol's eyes widened, her perfect composure finally cracking.

"S-suho... what? When? How?!"

He hummed, watching the flickering energy dance across his skin—but his gaze was distant, locked onto something in the empty air in front of him. Something only he could see.

"I reckon it started 'fore the rift even appeared," he muttered, his voice low. "A game-like screen just popped up in front of me... but y'all couldn't see it." He dismissed the lightning with a flick of his wrist and tapped at the empty space before his eyes. "Nothin', right? But for me... there's my name, my stats, my ability... which is lightning."

A chilling realization settled over me, cold and heavy.

If this was real... if this was really like a web novel...

That meant the rift wasn't just a strange phenomenon.

It was a door.

And doors open both ways.

Monsters would come. People would die. And others, like Suho, would awaken to fight them.

But the most terrifying question echoed in my mind: How had Suho awakened before the door had even opened?

The bell rang.

RIIIIING!

I flinched so hard I nearly stumbled. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.

No—was that the signal? Is it happening?! Are they coming out now?!

I shrank back, panic seizing my lungs—only to realize...

It was just the school bell.

The break was over.

But my legs wouldn't stop trembling.

"Ya alright?" Suho asked, his voice soft with concern.

"I-it's just... i-if that rift is like a w-web novel, then m-monsters will come from it!" I couldn't stop the panic from flooding my voice, sharp and shrill.

I felt a warm, steady hand gently rubbing my back. Yoo Seol. She didn't look at me, but her presence was an anchor.

Deep breath.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

I finally calmed down, the world coming back into focus.

I turned to Yoo Seol. "Thanks."

She gave me a firm, reassuring thumbs-up.

Then, I looked at Suho.

He wasn't looking at me. He was staring past me, through the window, at the silent, swirling rift. His expression was grim.

Then, he turned back to us, and his eyes held a gravity I'd never seen in them before.

"If that happens," he said, his voice quiet and devoid of all teasing. No mixed accent. Just pure, unwavering determination. "I'll protect both of you."

He met each of our eyes.

"It's a promise."

...****************...

One Month Later

Nothing had changed.

The rift remained, a silent scar in the sky. The government's attempts to probe it failed; it rejected everything they sent in, a door with a lock no one could pick.

But my fear never faded. It festered.

I stared out the classroom window, my textbook forgotten. Two of the smaller rifts that had appeared in rural Korea had vanished without explanation. The news called it a miracle.

But it didn't feel like one. It felt like a score.

If no one could enter, how were they being closed?

My gaze shifted to Suho.

He was absorbed in his textbook, flipping through the pages with a focused intensity. The top-ranked student, as always. But the circles under his eyes were darker lately. He was often absent, his excuses flimsy.

Was it him?

Had he been the one closing the rifts?

Then—

The world exploded.

A deep, otherworldly bell tolled, a sound that didn't come through the ears but vibrated deep within the soul. The entire school building shook violently, plaster dust raining from the ceiling.

I snapped my head toward the window.

Beyond the rift, a colossal, obsidian tower now pierced the heavens, where nothing had been before.

And then—movement.

The rift shimmered, bulged, and broke.

They poured out. Not of flesh and blood, but of shadow and nightmare and jagged bone. A seething, screeching tide of monsters spilling into the streets below.

The pandemonium on the news screens, the silent dread, the weight in my chest—it had all been a prelude.

What I feared most had finally come true.

The world was ending. And it had started right outside our window.

The outbreak had begun.

Monsters poured from the rift, flooding the school grounds. Panic erupted as the hallways filled with screams. Students and teachers scrambled in every direction, unsure what to do.

I stood frozen. My body trembled, my eyes locked onto the swirling mass of energy. The air crackled with an unnatural charge, sending shivers down my spine.

Then it happened.

A monstrous creature—a massive beast with multiple glowing eyes—roared as it burst into the classroom. The ground shook beneath its weight, and an overwhelming sense of dread washed over me.

My body went cold. My legs shook as I instinctively backed away. Move. Move. Move—please.

Suddenly, the air around me crackled with electricity.

A blur of motion—too fast to follow.

Suho.

In an instant, he appeared before the creature. His fist struck its face, a surge of lightning exploding from his hand. A deafening crack split the air as the monster was sent flying backward.

I stared in shock.

The beast lay motionless, and Suho stood there, lightning dancing between his fingertips. He was calm, as if used to fighting monsters. But there was something different about his eyes today—a flicker of something unreadable.

"S-suho… w-what was that?" I stammered.

I wanted to ask him: Are you the one who closed those rifts before?

But before I could, he grabbed my arm.

"No time to explain! Did you forget the teacher told us to evac to the gym?!"

Ahead, Yoo Seol waited, her face pale with shock. She must have remembered—one month ago, when Suho first revealed his powers on the rooftop.

"C'mon, Seolseol! We need to move! You too, Marumaru!"

With the way he fought… the truth was clear.

He had experience.

A memory surfaced—Suho falling sick last month. Strange, considering he was the healthiest person I knew. If he ever missed school, it was for idol training.

Another memory: a groupmate mentioning no practice that day, despite Suho insisting otherwise.

He'd lied.

He had been fighting. Closing rifts alone.

How could he be this reckless?

Amid the chaos, other students stumbled around, faces pale with fear.

Another monster lunged at us.

Suho moved in a flash.

He appeared before the beast, his fist colliding with its head. A burst of lightning erupted as the creature was sent flying. Before it could recover, Suho blurred again, appearing above it. He slammed its face into the ground. Again. And again.

The students gawked—some in fear, others in awe.

"Why're y'all just standing there?! Run, man! RUN!"

That snapped everyone out of their trance. We scrambled toward the gym.

Finally, we arrived. The gym was crowded with terrified students, teachers, and staff.

Suho exhaled. "Alright, y'all get inside. I'll protect you, so don't worry." His voice was light, casual—as if he hadn't just fought monsters barehanded.

He turned to the teacher. "Teach, I gotta head back out. Watch over them, 'kay?"

"What?! Baek Suho, it's too dangerous—"

But he didn't wait for her to finish. He waved as if to say Don't worry, and stepped out.

The door shut behind him.

Moments later—

A boom of lightning.

A monstrous scream.

Students murmured nervously.

"He's gonna be fine, right?"

"Did you see him punch that monster? He'll be fine… probably."

"Wait… he punched a monster with lightning?" the homeroom teacher asked, turning to the students.

The truth was starting to spread.

And outside—

Suho fought alone.

Every few seconds, a boom of lightning was followed by a monster's death cry.

Then—a loud crash from the other side of the gym. A minotaur-like beast appeared, roaring. But before it could attack, it collapsed, a lightning-shaped spear embedded in its back. Suho stood behind it, as if he'd just punched the spear from a distance.

"Y'all alright?!" he called.

Another monster lunged at him. Suho blurred, reappearing behind it, smashing its face into the ground.

"Incredible!"

"He's so fast!"

"Is he… superhuman?"

...----------------...

Suho scowled. This situation's bad,he thought. Guess Marumaru was right. The monsters really did come.

He glanced toward the sky, where his status window called it a Dungeon Gate. Defeating their boss was the only way to close the rift—or monster lair, until the government confirmed it.

The monsters were weak individually. His blue hologram-like interface displayed their levels after he struck them—mostly F to C ranks. Except for the boss… that A-rank bruiser had left him battered last time, forcing him to skip school.

He remembered training his lightning powers during thunderstorms, hiding his attacks within natural lightning strikes to avoid attention.

A monstrous claw swiped at him. Suho dodged, electricity crackling around his fist. He struck between another minotaur's legs, then drove his fist into its gut, lightning piercing through.

He huffed. An endurance match.

[Rank Up!!!]

[Status Window]

[Name: Baek Suho (Awakener)]

Privilege Ability: Lightning Manipulation

Mana Core Rank: E

Mana type: Lightning

Stats:

STR: B > B+

MAG: F

END: C

MAG END: EX[Black Hole Generator]

AGL: A > A+

Privilege Passive:

Black Hole Generator (Absorbs elemental and magic attacks, converting them into lightning to strengthen abilities.)

These annoying rank-up notices… always mid-battle.

His passive ability was unusual. And magic? He still had no idea how to use it. Whatever. Fists, dodging, and lightning worked fine.

A fireball shot toward him.

Suho winced, pretending to be hurt—though he was immune, thanks to Black Hole Generator. If the monsters realized, they'd adjust their tactics. Even beasts learned.

He created two lightning spears, punching them one by one to launch them at a flying beast. The first hit its chest; the second pierced the same spot, dropping it.

He huffed, hoping his family was safe. They'll manage. We're good at surviving.

Then he remembered. Wait… if this started during study time… what if someone's hiding somewhere?

"Hey! Is anyone still on break?!"

A girl shouted back. "Kang Min's in the second-floor restroom!"

"Can you call him?!" Suho dodged an attack, swept a goblin's legs, electro-punched it, and hurled a lightning spear skyward. It exploded, raining bolts down on the monsters—some fell; some survived.

"He's still there!"

"Got it! Help guide the attacks; I need to focus!"

He created a lightning-shaped clone, sending it zigzagging through the school at lightning speed.

"On your left!" a student called.

The clone paused; Suho flash-stepped to the right, spinning and kicking a monster.

His clone located Kang Min. In a blink, Suho switched places with it.

"Wait, Suho—!"

"No time. Let's go!"

He grabbed the boy and, focusing lightning only on his legs to avoid electrocuting him, punched through the wall. Dashing back to the gym at blinding speed, he noticed their homeroom teacher fighting too—creating barriers, smashing them onto monsters' heads.

Did she awaken too while I was gone?

He remembered seeing "Awakener" next to his name on the status screen.

"Teach, can you hold this area? I'll handle the horde!"

The teacher nodded, jagged barrier pieces now weapons in her hands.

Suho turned to the rift. The monsters had stopped pouring out. Is this the end of the wave?

Time to finish this.

He dashed forward, lightning exploding from his legs. Dodging every strike, he reached the center.

And punched the ground.

A pillar of lightning erupted, evaporating everything inside.

Everyone in the city saw it—the moment Seoul's strongest future S-rank Awakener revealed himself.

That day became known as the Daybreak End.

Many died. Others awakened to powers.

And the world was never the same.

Graduation Day

Ever since that day, the world had changed. The rifts were now called "Gates," and the people who fought the monsters pouring from them were called "Awakeners."

Baek Suho, her childhood friend, was one of the first. Two months ago, on the school rooftop, he had shown his power to her and Han Maru—a glimpse of lightning crackling at his fingertips. It had been the most shocking thing in the world. Now, it was just the way things were. Awakeners were the first line of defense, the ones who raided the Gates, defeated the monstrous bosses within, and were spat back out into the world as the portal sealed behind them.

She side-eyed Suho, who looked uncharacteristically solemn, and then Han Maru, who was practically vibrating with anxiety. Today was their graduation day. And Baek Suho was being conscripted into the Hunter Program.

No, "conscripted" was the right word. She could see the quiet annoyance, the resigned slump in his shoulders. She remembered the tears he'd tried to hide when the final enlistment notice came—the official government assignment that overrode his trainee contract, canceling his debut and upgrading him from a "half-hunter" to full-time, mandatory service. Baek Suho, who dreamed of being an idol, had his future stolen in two stages. First, they gave him power and a part-time job. Then, now on this graduation day, they took everything else.

Seeing her best friend force a smile while his heart was breaking... it hurt her deeply. He had looked so lost when he told them, "They own me now." Until they'd finally talked about it.

"Ah, I guess this is it," Suho said, breaking the silence. He turned to her, the practiced idol smile back on his face. "You're going to college, right? To become a veterinarian." He beamed at her. "Good luck, Seolseol! Make your dream come true!"

She could hear the bitterness hidden in that last word. A dream he could no longer have, she thought. She reached out and gently patted his head. "Uh, thanks," he said softly, leaning into the touch for just a second, a rare moment of vulnerability.

He then turned to Han Maru, his expression turning grim. "Han Maru, are you sure you want to sign up for the program? The forced awakening? I've been in those dungeons. They're not just… er, dangerous." He struggled to find the right words, his experience as a half-hunter giving him a terrifying insight. "They're nightmares. And that's if the hunters protecting you can keep the monsters back."

Han Maru nodded, his hands clenched at his sides. "Y-yeah, I n-need to. The signing bonus for new hunters… it's the only way to pay m-my mom's hospital b-bills." Despite his stutter, his eyes held a firm, desperate resolve.

Suho studied him, his gaze a mix of pity and understanding. He knew what it was like to have your choices taken away by circumstance. "Then let's be partners," he said, offering a fist bump. "Once you survive the program. Partners?"

Han Maru managed a small, nervous smile and bumped his fist against Suho's. "Y-yeah. P-partners."

Yoo Seol signed, her movements calm and deliberate.

"O-of course," Han Maru agreed.

Suho nodded, then dug into his pocket. He pulled out three simple dog tag necklaces, each engraved with their initials—a symbol from his time as a half-hunter. "Well, take these. It's a physical bond. My life is theirs now… but this means we'll always have each other."

She took hers and put it on immediately. Han Maru followed suit, clutching the tag like a lifeline.

......................

Six Years Later

Han Maru did not fulfill his promise. He never visited.

From her apartment window, Yoo Seol watched the world change. The frantic panic of the Daybreak End had hardened into a grim new routine. The rifts were now called "Gates," and the Awakeners who fought within them were "Hunters," organized into official ranks and guilds.

She saw the technological leaps unfold on the news and on the streets. She saw Hunters flick their wrists, weapons materializing from thin air thanks to the new Hunter Braces. She heard of Mana Metal weapons and Elemental Gems that allowed even those without innate power to fight. It was a world of marvels she observed from the sidelines, steadfast on her own path to become a veterinarian.

But no invention could fix what was broken between her two best friends.

Han Maru, unable to awaken in the program, became a permanent F-Ranker, branded a parasite living in the shadow of an S-Rank. The cruel whispers—"He's only alive because of Baek Suho"—finally drove him to become a miner, disappearing into the earth, the lowest subclass of their new world.

Suho, now one of Korea's Four Heavenly Kings—The White Tiger—tried again and again to reach him. She saw him return from each attempt, his cheerful mask slipping a little more, his eyes growing colder. The spider-silk hoodie he always wore seemed less like a choice and more like a uniform for a war he never wanted.

After the last time, he stood in her kitchen, the lightning at his fingertips crackling with his anger. "They did this," he muttered, not to her, but to the world. "Their words. Their jealousy. They made him think he was nothing." He made a vow then and there. He would hunt alone. He would never give another Hunter the chance to poison something he cared about again.

And so, the three best friends became a duo. Only Suho still visited her, his presence a constant, lonely reminder of the third who was missing. She listened to his stories, her silent apartment a poor substitute for the friendship they had lost, a quiet witness to a world that advanced.