Ex rank talent Awakening: 100% Dodge rate

"What a weird-ass dream," Greg muttered, slowly opening his eyes to the gentle warmth of morning light filtering through the blinds. The softness of the sheets, the calm rise and fall of Jessica's breathing beside him, all seemed peaceful. But his peace didn't last long. The moment he remembered Kate's kidnapping, a dark storm of anger brewed in his chest. His jaw clenched. His hand instinctively curled into a fist.

He couldn't act yet. Not until he had more information—who the enemies were, what their goals were, and where they were hiding. Attacking blindly would get Kate killed.

The world outside had changed beyond recognition.

After the viral livestream of Greg and Kyle's battle, demand for gaming helmets skyrocketed overnight. The spectacle had shaken people to their core. Seeing was believing, and the moment non-players witnessed powers that shattered mountains and tore open the skies, they couldn't resist. They dove into the game in waves, abandoning their real-world responsibilities in favor of survival, power, and the unknown.

Doctors were no longer at their posts in hospitals. Bankers left vaults unattended. Engineers walked away from unfinished bridges and buildings. Society began to rot at its core. With the majority of the global population logging into the game, essential sectors—education, transportation, and even basic governance—collapsed one after another.

But as Greg once predicted, the Supreme Will wasn't going to let the chaos run unchecked. They revealed the next stage of evolution: the gaming capsule.

A marvel of engineering, the capsule was a full-body, self-sustaining pod capable of keeping players alive for an entire month without leaving. It regulated body functions, absorbed nutrients through the skin using a specialized nutrition fluid, and ensured cleanliness with periodic sterilizing mists. The system even handled waste disposal, all while keeping the host in a stable dream-like state, fully immersed.

The gaming capsule wasn't just a convenience—it was the nail in the coffin for real-world governments. It offered an escape so complete that it rendered physical existence nearly obsolete.

---

[World-Level Announcement!]

Due to the large number of players joining Apocalypse, there will be a 24-hour break to add a new patch to the game. Stay tuned, players.

---

The message echoed in everyone's minds. And then—just like that—they were all forcibly logged out.

---

"Great... just when I wanted to test these babies," Aaron groaned, lightly stroking the side of his new capsule like it was a prized possession. "What the hell do I even do for the next 24 hours?" he sighed, collapsing into his chair.

With entertainment outside the game at an all-time low, and most of his friends offline or too obsessed to call back, he was lost. But not everyone wasted their time wondering.

---

Greg, now back in the real world, had other plans. He took Jessica out for the first time since everything had begun—just the two of them, away from war, betrayal, and pain.

They strolled down quiet walkways, holding hands, their steps in sync. The air was crisp, the skies clearer than usual. For a brief moment, it almost felt like the world hadn't ended.

"Thank you for saving me," Jessica said, her voice soft like a melody on the breeze.

Greg turned to her, guilt tightening his chest. "I'm sorry… for everything," he murmured. "I was so obsessed with vengeance that I stopped seeing the people I cared about. I hurt you… I pushed you away."

His face tensed as he tried to convey his remorse, but he couldn't. Not properly.

Since that dream—that strange and vivid dream—something had shifted within him. He felt detached from his emotions. Colder. Numb. It was subtle at first, but now it was undeniable.

Even looking at Jessica, whom he once longed for with every fiber of his being, stirred barely a flutter in his heart. He knew he loved her, logically, but the fire was flickering.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

"I'm fine," Greg replied with a tight, practiced smile.

They spent the day moving from one attraction to another—amusement parks, scenic cafes, and romantic rooftops. Greg's wings made traveling easy, gliding above traffic and crowds with ease. But even as they shared laughs and moments, Greg felt like he was watching from the outside.

Later, as they sat near a quiet lake, Greg stood up. "Stay here for a moment. I'll be right back," he said. With a few quick hand signs, he layered her in protective enchantments—nothing was going to touch her while he was away.

He walked away from the serene area, his footsteps silent, heading into a more isolated spot. Trees bent in the breeze, their shadows long and warped. The air grew still. Too still.

Greg stopped, arms crossed. His voice was firm, calm, and carried quiet authority.

"Show yourself, or I'll force you to."

There was silence… then laughter.

"Hohoho… quite the interesting young lad you are," a voice echoed. From the shadows emerged an old man, white-haired and bearded, his steps slow but assured. "To think you noticed me so easily. I must be getting truly old."

Greg's eyes narrowed. "You've been following us for a while now. I'm one breath away from attacking."

His new ability made hiding from him impossible—he could sense everything within a kilometer radius. Every movement. Every breath.

"Peace, young man," the old man said, raising his hands in surrender. "I meant no harm. I simply didn't want to interrupt your lovely moment with the young lady. I was waiting for a moment to speak with you in private… and lo and behold, you made it easy."

Greg said nothing, but he studied the man intently.

He looked ancient, maybe in his eighties, frail with age—but Greg saw through it. That weak human shell housed a monster. Something sharp. Something dangerous. Though not a threat to him, it was still impressive.

Without a word, Greg waved his hand. Two ornate chairs appeared out of thin air through the language of Dragon's Tongue—one for him, one for the old man.

"Well well," the old man chuckled, lowering himself into the seat. "Polite and powerful. Magic before the full descent of Apocalypse? Rare, very rare indeed."

"Get to the point," Greg snapped. "I have someone waiting."

The air changed.

The old man's jovial tone vanished, replaced by the heavy seriousness of someone with a purpose. His aura darkened, refined, his eyes sharp like steel.

"I'm here with an offer," he said slowly. "An olive branch extended only to those with the potential to shape the fate of this world. We've offered it to kings, warlords, and visionaries for centuries."

He extended a hand toward Greg.

"Join us—the Mage Family. And ascend to what you were always meant to be."