Somewhere in a country in the west, a single message arrived.
"A Red Gate has appeared."
No one spoke for a long moment. Then two men stepped forward and stood before a large screen in a hidden room. One was the director. The other was his chief. Their faces were calm, but their eyes were sharp.
Behind them, red lights blinked. Alarms hummed low. The room was filled with monitors and data feeds. Every screen showed the same thing: a city in ruin. Yet all attention was fixed on the center monitor, where a new threat had just opened.
The screen showed the ruined city of manila, but not as it had once been. Tall Buildings lay broken like fallen giants. Roads were cracked, splintered wide, and overgrown with weeds. Bridges had collapsed, hanging in jagged angles.No people, only empty shells of buildings and silent streets. The city's heart lay open to the sky, every corner showing signs of collapse and decay.
At the dead center of the city, a shape formed in the air. It twisted and churned. It glowed with a deep red light. It pulsed as if it had a heartbeat of its own. This was the Red Gate, a disaster‑class. It burned like a wound in the world, and it screamed in silence.
Then the creatures came.
They poured from the gate in endless waves. They were demons and monsters, hideous shapes that had no right to live in this world. Some were small and fast, scuttling on many legs. Others were tall and thin, their skin hanging like ragged cloth. Some had wings, fur, horns, or claws. All of them had faces twisted with hunger and fear.
They ran into the ruined open field. They stamped their feet on broken stone. They leapt over crumbled walls. They skidded to a halt at the edge of the open space. For a heartbeat, they stood still. Then they looked back at the gate. Their heads turned as one. Clawed hands reached to touch the air. Wings beat in tension. They stared into the red storm, their eyes wide.
In the hidden room, the director and chief watched in silence. The flames of the gate reflected in their eyes. The monsters did not move forward. They did not roar for battle. They did not spread across the city. Instead, they waited.
And then, as the gate's red light began to fade, as its power seemed to dim, a lone figure stepped out.
He wore white robes, once elegant and clean but now torn and stained. The fabric hung from his shoulders in wide strips. A long cloak trailed behind him, frayed at the edges. The wind tugged at his sleeves and cloak, but he stood firm.
His hair was white as ash. It fell past his shoulders in straight strands. His eyes were blue, soft and clear like the calmest ocean. They shone in the fading light of the gate's afterglow.
For a moment he did not move. He did not raise his hand. He did not call out. He simply stood and looked back at the empty space where the portal had been. The gate was gone, vanished like a dream.
Then he turned his head. He looked at the ruined city around him. He saw dust rising from broken walls. He saw concrete cracked and crumbled. He saw empty windows staring like blank eyes. He saw no life, only echoes of what had once been.
Once the demons and monsters saw him emerging from the gate, they started running again like a prey saw its predator.
He started to wander in the city and analysing the old ruins of a railing transit sytem and he notice a car. A magic circle surrounds the car and it vanished.
The director leaned forward. "He stored the car?"
"Looks like it," the chief replied.
No sooner had the SUV vanished into a mysterious dimension. Three demons appeared high above of crumbling building far from the white man. Each had six wing, sharp, leathery, and fierce. They appear to be talking about the white man and the are keeping their distance, watching the man below.
He noticed them. He turned his head upward. His blue eyes narrowed in calm curiosity. He lifted both hands again. The air around him shimmered with light.
Suddenly, a thousand golden beams burst from his two fingers. They shot up into the sky like spears of sunlight. Each beam found a winged demon. In a flash, the three grotesque figures shattered into dust. No screams. No smoke. Just empty air where they had hovered.
The man lowered his hands. He watched the plaza fall silent. Then he turned and checked his surroundings again, rubble, dust, hollow shells of towers.
He took a step. Then another. He walked on, quiet and calm, checking every corner, every shadow, every broken wall.
In the hidden room, the two men remained silent.
"Human?" the director asked at last.
"Looks like it," the chief replied. "But not one of ours."
"And the demons?" the director pressed.
"They ran from him," the chief said.
The screen switched to thermal and mana scans. Red lines traced the man's slow path through the ruins. Blue waves showed his magic held tight, then unleashed in golden light.
The director and chief watched those lines, but they said nothing more. They sat in silence, waiting for the man to make his next move, and wondering what the world would become once he did.
A week has passed…
A low hum filled the hidden room as new data scrolled across the monitors. Satellite feeds flickered, switching between infrared, and standard visuals. Surveillance drones circled above the ruined city, keeping a careful distance from the white-robed figure. Each pass gave only more questions.
"He's scanning," the chief murmured.
"For what?" the director asked.
"Not sure. But he's not just walking. He's looking for something."
On the screen, the man paused beside a broken terminal, part of what once was a transportation hub. He crouched low, placing his hand against the shattered console. A faint pulse of mana traveled from his palm, sinking into the old stone and circuitry like a whisper. The machine sparked. Its screen flickered, trying to power up for the first time in decade.
He was reviving the dead tech.
The lights danced on the edges of the broken rail lines, illuminating faded glyphs beneath the grime. Ancient and modern tech, blended, merged. Not just magic. Not just science. Something in between.
The director leaned closer. "He's not just powerful. He's… a monster."
The chief nodded. "And if he's not with the demons…"
"Then we better pray he stays human."
Silence settled once more. Outside, the man continued his quiet walk through the center of civilization.