...The dawn of the Devouring Shadows marked the beginning of humanity's darkest age....

Without warning, colossal crimson portals tore open the heavens.

The skies bled red.

From those endless rifts emerged grotesque creatures that defied every law of nature. They descended upon the world like an unstoppable plague, reducing thriving cities to ruins within days. Nations collapsed one after another, and countless lives vanished beneath claws, fangs, and horrors no human mind had ever imagined.

Humanity stood on the brink of extinction.

Then...

Hope awakened.

Across the globe, ordinary men and women began manifesting extraordinary abilities—powers that surpassed human understanding. Armed with divine gifts, they rose against the invaders and became mankind's final shield.

History would remember them by a single name.

Saints.

[Breaking News]

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is Mark Collins reporting live from Sacramento, California."

The camera swept across the city before tilting toward the heavens.

Suspended above Sacramento was a colossal crimson portal so immense that it eclipsed the morning sun. Five years had passed since its appearance, yet its terrifying presence remained unchanged, hanging above the city like an executioner's blade waiting to fall.

Military helicopters circled beneath the portal while fighter jets maintained a strict aerial blockade. Far below, traffic flowed through the streets as civilians continued their daily routines beneath the blood-red sky. They had learned to live with fear...

But never to forget it.

"As you can see behind me," Mark continued, adjusting his microphone, "the mysterious portal remains active despite five years of investigation by both the United States Government and the Saint Hunter Society."

"Authorities have confirmed another surge of monster activity across several districts this week, resulting in multiple civilian casualties."

"Citizens are strongly advised to avoid all restricted zones unless accompanied by licensed Saint Hunters."

The broadcast shifted to a digital map of the world.

Another crimson portal illuminated above China.

Then another...

Above South Korea.

"Our international correspondents have confirmed the appearance of similar portals in both countries."

"Following the recent increase in monster attacks, the governments of China and South Korea have officially declared nationwide states of emergency."

The screen changed once more.

A press conference in Seoul.

Standing before dozens of reporters, a senior Korean official spoke with unwavering resolve.

"The outsiders have declared war upon humanity."

A brief silence followed.

His eyes hardened.

"And though victory may not come easily..."

"...we will fight."

Camera flashes illuminated the room.

Moments later, the broadcast returned to Sacramento.

"Here in the United States, federal authorities continue working alongside the Saint Hunter Society to strengthen national defenses and emergency response systems."

"Scientists remain unable to explain the true origin of the crimson portals."

"Even after five years..."

"No one knows what lies beyond them."

Mark looked directly into the camera.

"Are they gateways to another world..."

"...or the beginning of humanity's end?"

A heavy silence settled over the broadcast.

Then he spoke one final sentence.

"And now..."

"Please welcome the Supreme Leader of the Saint Hunter Society..."

"...Father Rubenstein."

The hall erupted into thunderous applause.

Reporters rose from their seats as camera flashes illuminated the stage like bolts of lightning. Around the world, millions watched the broadcast in silence, clinging to every word spoken by the man who had become humanity's unwavering pillar of hope.

Father Rubenstein simply smiled.

It was a gentle smile.

A weary smile.

The smile of a man who had witnessed countless funerals, yet still found the strength to tell others that tomorrow was worth believing in.

He raised one hand, and the applause gradually subsided.

"My friends..."

His calm voice echoed throughout the hall.

"I cannot promise you that this war will end tomorrow."

"I cannot promise that there will be no more tears..."

"...or that no more lives will be lost."

A heavy silence settled over the audience.

The old saint lowered his gaze for a brief moment.

"There are nights..."

"...when I ask myself whether humanity can truly survive."

His confession caught everyone by surprise.

Even the reporters lowered their cameras.

Father Rubenstein slowly looked up once more.

"But every time doubt finds its way into my heart..."

"...I remember something."

His blue eyes seemed to shine with quiet conviction.

"I remember that light is born only because darkness exists."

"I remember that courage has meaning only because fear exists."

"And I remember that hope is most beautiful..."

"...when it shines in a world drowning in despair."

No one spoke.

The entire hall listened.

"Five years ago..."

"Our enemy sought to take away our future."

"They sought to steal our faith."

"They sought to convince us that humanity was destined to perish."

A faint smile crossed his face.

"They failed."

Applause broke out once again, louder than before.

Father Rubenstein allowed it to continue for a few seconds before gently raising his hand.

"As long as even one Saint continues to stand..."

"There shall always be hope."

"And as long as humanity continues to hope..."

"We will never surrender."

The conference hall shook beneath another wave of applause.

Some reporters wiped tears from their eyes.

Others stood in respectful silence.

To millions around the world...

Father Rubenstein was more than the Supreme Leader of the Saint Hunter Society.

He was the symbol of humanity's refusal to kneel before despair.

As he stepped away from the podium, his smile slowly disappeared.

For the first time since the broadcast began...

His eyes drifted toward the enormous crimson portal hanging above Sacramento.

The cameras continued flashing.

The audience continued applauding.

No one noticed the quiet prayer that escaped his lips.

"Yichirik..."

"Grant this world a little more time."

For reasons even he could not explain...

His heart had felt unusually restless since dawn.

As though somewhere beyond the crimson heavens...

Something had begun to awaken.

Something ancient.

Something that would change the fate of humanity forever.

Far above the clouds...

The colossal crimson portal pulsed once.

Then fell silent.

The television broadcast ended.

Click.

Mrs. Helen reached for the remote control and switched off the television.

Mrs. Helen let out a weary sigh as she placed the television remote on the coffee table.

"I've heard enough frightening news for one morning."

She rose from the sofa and walked toward the kitchen, opening the refrigerator before retrieving a chilled bottle of orange juice.

The morning sunlight streamed through the apartment windows, bathing the modest living room in a warm golden glow. Outside, the streets of Sacramento buzzed with the usual weekday rush, as if the colossal crimson portal hanging above the city had become nothing more than another part of the skyline.

Hana, who had barely taken her eyes off the television throughout the broadcast, lazily flipped through the remaining channels before giving up.

She puffed out her cheeks.

"Every station talks about portals..."

"Monsters..."

"And Saints."

She groaned dramatically.

"Can't somebody report something happy for once?"

Mrs. Helen chuckled softly.

"In times like these, happy news is a luxury."

Before Hana could reply...

Soft footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Both women instinctively turned.

Lucas Yoroshin quietly emerged from his room.

His messy black hair partially covered the thin glasses resting on his face, while his crimson-brown eyes carried the unmistakable exhaustion of someone who hadn't truly slept.

He looked pale.

Far too pale for someone only twenty years old.

Without saying a word, Lucas walked over and gently kissed his mother's cheek.

"Morning, Mom."

Mrs. Helen smiled warmly.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

Lucas picked up his school bag.

"I'm heading to school."

He turned toward the entrance.

"...Lucas."

Her voice stopped him.

He looked back.

Mrs. Helen studied his face carefully.

Something wasn't right.

She had been his mother long enough to notice the smallest changes.

The forced smile.

The heavy eyes.

The subtle stiffness in his shoulders.

She stepped closer.

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

Lucas hesitated for the briefest moment.

"...A little."

She wasn't convinced.

"And your medicine?"

"I took it."

"You promise?"

A faint smile appeared on Lucas's face.

"I promise."

For several seconds, she simply looked at him.

Then she sighed.

"Alright."

"But if those headaches come back..."

"I want you to call me immediately."

Lucas nodded.

"I will."

As he reached for the door, his hand paused on the handle.

Without turning around, he spoke quietly.

"...Thanks."

Mrs. Helen blinked.

"For what?"

He finally looked back.

A small, genuine smile crossed his face.

"For buying my medicine."

"I know it isn't cheap."

For a moment...

Neither of them spoke.

Mrs. Helen simply walked forward and gently brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead.

"You don't have to thank me."

"I'm your mother."

"I'd give you the whole world if I could."

Lucas smiled.

"I know."

He opened the door.

"I'll see you this evening."

"Be careful."

"I always am."

The apartment door closed softly behind him.

Silence settled over the living room.

Mrs. Helen remained standing by the door for several moments, staring at it as though Lucas might suddenly walk back inside.

The gentle smile on her face slowly disappeared.

"...You lied to me."

She whispered the words to herself.

She knew that smile.

She had seen it too many times.

Lucas hadn't slept.

And deep down...

She wasn't even sure he had taken his medicine.

With a quiet sigh, she closed her eyes.

"Please..."

"Let today be peaceful."

She looked toward the television, where only moments ago Father Rubenstein had spoken of hope.

Then, almost unconsciously, her gaze drifted toward the crimson portal hanging beyond the apartment window.

For reasons she couldn't explain...

An uneasy feeling settled deep within her heart.

.....

Outside, Lucas adjusted the strap of his worn backpack as he stepped into the cool morning air.

Above the city...

The enormous crimson portal loomed silently over Sacramento, casting its blood-red shadow across the waking world.

Most people had long since grown accustomed to its presence.

Lucas never had.

As he walked toward the bus stop, dozens of people hurried past him.

Office workers.

University students.

Parents taking their children to school.

Everyone lived as though the world was normal.

Lucas wished he could do the same.

No one noticed the quiet young man disappearing into the crowd.

No one knew the burden he carried.

No one knew that every night, he heard voices whispering from empty rooms.

No one knew that sometimes...

He saw people who shouldn't exist.

Sometimes...

The dead looked more alive than the living.

Lucas lowered his head.

"Maybe..."

"...I'm really losing my mind."

A city bus pulled to a stop in front of him with a hiss of compressed air.

Its digital display read:

PUBLIC BUS NO. 23

Lucas stepped aboard.

The doors closed behind him.

His ordinary day...

Had just begun.

PSSSHH—

The bus doors slid shut behind him.

With a low mechanical hum, Public Bus No. 23 pulled away from the curb and merged into Sacramento's morning traffic.

Lucas quietly walked toward the center aisle, wrapping one hand around the cold metal rail while adjusting the strap of his worn backpack with the other.

Every seat was occupied.

Office workers stared absently at their phones.

University students laughed as they argued over weekend plans.

An elderly couple sat together in comfortable silence.

Near the front, a young mother gently rocked her sleeping daughter.

Everything...

Looked perfectly ordinary.

Lucas wished his life could be just as ordinary.

Lucas Yoroshin was twenty years old.

To everyone at Westbridge University...

He was almost invisible.

The quiet student who always sat alone.

The strange boy who rarely smiled.

The one who carried medicine wherever he went.

The student everyone whispered about when they thought he couldn't hear them.

No one ever asked why.

No one cared enough to.

If someone had...

They would have discovered that Lucas wasn't always like this.

Once...

He had dreams.

Simple dreams.

Graduate from university.

Find a stable job.

Take care of his mother.

Maybe...

Someday...

Fall in love.

Nothing extraordinary.

Nothing heroic.

Just an ordinary life.

But two years ago...

Everything changed.

At first, he saw shadows where no shadows should exist.

Then he began hearing whispers inside empty rooms.

Soon...

The whispers became voices.

Eventually...

The dead no longer hid from him.

They spoke.

They cried.

They begged.

Doctors diagnosed him with severe hallucinations caused by psychological trauma.

They prescribed medicine.

His classmates simply called him insane.

Even Lucas...

Had started believing them.

So he learned to smile.

To pretend nothing was wrong.

To act as though he couldn't hear the voices that followed him wherever he went.

Because pretending...

Was easier than being feared.

Little did he know...

Everything he had experienced over the past two years...

Was only the beginning.

Outside the window...

Sacramento stretched beneath the blood-red sky.

People hurried to work.

Children crossed the streets with their parents.

Restaurants opened their doors.

Life continued.

High above the city...

The colossal crimson portal watched over everything in absolute silence.

Lucas looked at it for only a moment.

A strange feeling tightened inside his chest.

"...Why..."

"...does it always feel like it's watching me?"

He quickly looked away.

"...I'm imagining things again."

His fingers slipped into his pocket.

He pulled out a small bottle of white pills.

His medicine.

He stared at it for several long seconds.

"...You don't help anymore."

With a quiet sigh...

He returned it to his pocket.

Maybe...

Nothing could help him anymore.

The bus continued through the city.

Its engine rumbled steadily.

Traffic lights changed.

Pedestrians crossed the road.

Everything remained...

Normal.

Lucas glanced down at the digital watch on his wrist.

7:10:38

7:10:39

7:10...

His expression froze.

The seconds...

Never changed.

His breathing caught in his throat.

"...No."

His fingers tightened around the handrail.

"...Not again."

Slowly...

He raised his head.

The driver sat perfectly still.

His hands remained frozen around the steering wheel.

A businessman stood halfway through adjusting his tie.

A little girl remained trapped in an unfinished laugh.

Even the blinking lights above the emergency exit had stopped.

Lucas turned toward the window.

Outside...

The impossible unfolded.

Cars stood motionless in the middle of the road.

Birds floated silently above the city.

Leaves hung suspended in the air.

Even the drifting clouds had stopped moving.

The world...

Had frozen.

A cold shiver ran down Lucas's spine.

"...Why is this happening?"

No answer came.

Instead...

A whisper drifted through the silent bus.

"...Help..."

Lucas froze.

Another voice followed.

"...Please..."

Then another.

"...Can you hear us...?"

His heartbeat thundered inside his chest.

He already knew those voices.

Very slowly...

He turned toward the empty seats behind him.

They were no longer empty.

A middle-aged man sat quietly with his chest torn open.

Beside him...

An elderly woman clutched a broken family photograph.

A little girl hugged the charred remains of a teddy bear.

A teenage boy stared blankly ahead, dried blood staining his school uniform.

Then another appeared.

And another.

And another.

Within moments...

The entire bus was filled with spirits.

Every one of them slowly turned toward Lucas.

Their empty eyes carried endless sorrow.

"You..."

"...can hear us..."

The little girl smiled.

It wasn't the smile of a child.

It was the desperate smile of someone who had forgotten what happiness felt like.

Lucas instinctively stepped backward.

"N-No..."

"...leave me alone."

One by one...

The spirits stood.

Their whispers filled the bus.

Help me...

Find my family...

It hurts...

Don't leave us...

Why did I die...?

Please...

The voices multiplied.

Growing louder.

Faster.

More desperate.

Lucas covered both ears.

"Stop..."

The whispers continued.

Tears formed in his eyes.

"I said..."

"...STOP!"

The screams exploded inside his mind.

Thousands of memories.

Thousands of regrets.

Thousands of deaths.

They crashed into his consciousness like an endless ocean.

Warm blood trickled from both ears.

"I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!"

THUD!

The bus lurched violently over a speed bump.

Time resumed.

Passengers stumbled.

The engine roared.

The ghosts vanished.

Everything...

Returned to normal.

The driver glanced into the rearview mirror.

"You alright, kid?"

Lucas looked around frantically.

Nothing.

Only ordinary passengers.

Some glanced at him with concern.

Others ignored him completely.

Lucas leaned against the window.

Cold sweat soaked his forehead.

His breathing refused to steady.

This nightmare...

Had followed him for nearly two years.

Ghosts.

Frozen time.

Voices no one else could hear.

No medicine could stop them.

No doctor could explain them.

And every day...

They grew stronger.

Several minutes later...

The bus slowed before the towering gates of Westbridge University.

PSSSHH—

The doors opened.

Lucas stepped onto the pavement.

Students streamed through the entrance, laughing as though the world wasn't hanging by a thread.

He adjusted his glasses.

Tightened the strap of his backpack.

Forced a faint smile.

"...One more day."

Without another word...

Lucas walked toward the university.

Completely unaware...

That before the day came to an end...

Everything he believed about himself...

Would begin to shatter.