In a world where rifts tore the sky like gaping wounds, pouring out hordes of maddened creatures, humanity had found only one answer: hunters. Beings endowed with supernatural powers, they dared to enter the abyssal dungeons to slay monsters and snatch forbidden relics from the darkness.
But among hunters, equality was a mere illusion. Ranked from S to E, the E-ranks were despised, forgotten, used as cannon fodder. Jinra Voss, barely fifteen years old, belonged to this caste destined for contempt. Her existence was nothing more than a series of disdainful glances and inglorious missions.
---
Jinra had never learned to dream. Her life had been a lost battlefield from the start. Since childhood, she had known only rejection: too frail to be noticed, too ordinary to be loved. The title of E-rank Tank clung to her skin like a brand of shame, feeding an immense emptiness within her.
It wasn't physical weakness that gnawed at her, but the inner chasm, the overwhelming silence that no victory could ever fill. She moved forward mechanically, devoid of hope — a mere specter clad in armor.
To her teammates, she was nothing. A shadow, a burden. They looked away, whispering behind her back. No one saw the silent distress hidden beneath her mask of indifference. Jinra fought neither for glory nor for justice. She fought for the most miserable prize of all: survival.
---
That day, there were seven of them: four hardened veterans, Jinra, always in the background, and one face she had known forever — Ethan Blackwell. The dungeon they entered reeked of decaying flesh. The goblins were merely a prelude; the darkness hid far worse.
When the larger creatures emerged, Jinra didn't hesitate. Her shield rose between a wounded companion and death. The impact crushed her arm with a sinister crack, sending her rolling into the bloody dust.
Ethan alone rushed towards her. He remembered — Jinra had once raised an earthen wall to save him from a fatal blow. An act forgotten by everyone, except him.
"Hold on, Jinra! Don't die!" he shouted, lifting her in his arms.
In the blur of her vision, Jinra met his eyes, full of terror. Why? Why save her, the embodiment of failure? Out of pity? Out of duty? Shame devoured her more violently than the pain.
---
Their escape turned into a rout. But the dungeon itself seemed alive. It groaned, it cracked — and, in an explosion of light, a rift opened. From a portal of shadows emerged a nightmare creature: a colossal dragon, draped in forbidden energies. At its feet lay the mutilated corpses of a dozen hunters.
The monster's voice boomed, deep and unreal:
"I am the Messenger. I have come to choose the future Guardian."
A deathly chill seized Jinra. Legends whispered of the existence of the Guardians — ten beings bound to the primordial laws of the universe: creation, destruction, balance... Ten laws, ten chosen, ten sacrifices.
"The one I have chosen... is Ethan Blackwell."
Ethan staggered, his face drained of blood. Jinra felt her own heart collapse.
But the voice continued, relentless:
"A sacrifice is required for the Ascension."
The expedition leader, trembling, dared to ask:
"A Guardian? What is your purpose? Why us?"
The dragon laughed — a deep, cruel rattle.
"You crawl across a battlefield whose very existence you are unaware of."
Jinra, in a whisper:
"Why Ethan? Why not... someone else?"
The dragon's incandescent gaze swept over the group.
"They were once more glorious than you will ever be. Today, they are but ashes."
Then, it lazily raised a claw — and the universe shattered.
The world flickered, froze... When time resumed, all had disappeared.
All except Ethan and Jinra.
---
Fear crushed Ethan.
"A-are... are you going to kill me?" he stammered.
The dragon turned towards Jinra.
"The rules have changed. I favor this girl. One of you will live. The other must perish."
Above them, the flames danced, voracious.
Without thinking, Jinra grabbed Ethan and violently pushed him out of reach. Then, she leapt alone into the blaze.
Her heart-wrenching scream was swallowed by the firestorm. When it ended, all that remained was a charred silhouette, disintegrating before Ethan's eyes.
Kneeling, broken, he sobbed:
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Jinra..."
He emptied his healing potions onto her corpse. In vain.
Desperate, he screamed towards the sky:
"Take my life! Bring her back!"
The dragon watched him, without the slightest compassion.
"To save her, you would have to offer your soul."
Ethan, trembling, raised his sword to his own throat.
"Then... I will..."
The monster growled:
"Wretched."
With a flick of its paw, it brushed the charred remains of Jinra.
"Forced implantation."
A burning light surged.
When the darkness dissipated, Jinra was breathing again, intact — but something in her had changed.
Something terrible.