Family system

Selene had never known softness. From the moment she was old enough to understand the world, she knew one thing—survival was earned, not given.

She grew up on the outskirts of a once-thriving metropolis in a world that had already begun to crumble. Before the apocalypse descended upon them, her family had been among the forgotten ones—the people who lived in the cracks of society, ignored by those too wealthy to care. The city's elite lived in luxury, towers stretching into the sky, while people like Selene fought for scraps.

Her parents had been scavengers, skilled in navigating the abandoned sectors of the city and collecting whatever they could trade for food. It was a harsh life, but they had each other. Selene was still young when she learned to wield a knife, not for battle but for protection—from the gangs that roamed the slums, from corrupt officials who saw the desperate as prey, and from the world itself.

Then, the world shattered.

She remembered that day with crystal clarity.

The ground cracked open beneath her feet, the sky darkened, and the air felt like it was being torn apart. Buildings collapsed, fires raged, and the first wave of creatures arrived—red-skinned goblins with hungry, twisted grins, flooding the streets like a tidal wave of death. The rich had fled, hidden behind steel walls or taken underground while the rest of them—people like her—were left to die.

Her parents died in the first wave.

Her father was torn apart trying to shield her; her mother used her own body as bait to give Selene a chance to run. She hadn't wanted to—she'd fought, screamed, begged—but in the end, she ran.

She ran until her legs gave out, until the sounds of battle were distant until her hands were covered in blood that wasn't hers, her knife slick and warm in her trembling grip.

Selene was alone.

For weeks, she survived in the ruins of the city, fighting like a rabid animal.

She scavenged weapons from fallen soldiers, took shelter in the wreckage of once-grand buildings, and avoided the roaming goblins and mutated beasts that now claimed the streets as their own.

She learned quickly.

She learned that mercy was a weakness, that hesitation meant death, and that the only way to live was to be faster, stronger, and deadlier than anything that stood in her way.

And then—she met the cult.

They came like ghosts in the night, cutting through the hordes of monsters with inhuman grace.

Selene had been watching from the shadows, blade ready, expecting to see another band of scavengers trying to carve out their place in the ruins. But these women… they weren't scavengers.

They moved with purpose; their weapons were more than just tools; they were extensions of themselves. They didn't fight to survive; they fought because they were meant to.

Selene had been fascinated.

She watched as they cleared entire city blocks, moving like predators, and something inside her—something raw and desperate—ached to be like them.

When they finally noticed her, Selene had raised her blade on instinct, expecting an attack.

But instead, one of the women—a towering figure with piercing golden eyes—had looked at her and simply said:

"Do you want to be strong?"

Selene had nodded.

She didn't ask who they were. She didn't care. She had already lost everything, and in that moment, she had only one goal—to be powerful enough that no one could ever take anything from her again.

That night, she joined the cult, and from that moment forward, Selene stopped being a survivor and became a warrior.

Training within the cult was brutal, but Selene thrived on it. She did not need comfort, softness, or kindness—she only needed strength.

She trained from dawn until dusk, wielding twin blades that became a part of her soul. She honed her body, pushed past the limits of pain, and sharpened herself into a living weapon.

Her skills grew rapidly, surpassing those of many who had been in the cult far longer than she had. While others struggled with the demands of battle, Selene relished the fight. She was fast, ruthless, and precise, carving through enemies like a dancer of death.

Her reputation spread quickly.

She became known as the Crimson Blade, the one who never hesitated, never faltered and never showed fear.

Then, one day, it changed when she went out for her first mission.

Selene had always been strong. Or at least, that's what she told herself. Strength was the only thing that mattered in a world where the weak were trampled underfoot, and she had spent every moment of her life proving that she was not weak. But no amount of strength had prepared her for the moment when everything truly fell apart.

She had fought. She had survived. She had killed. But even she had limits.

Her body was broken, her breath came in ragged gasps, and her vision swam with the mix of blood and exhaustion clouding her mind. Her blades—her trusted weapons, the only things that had ever given her security—had been lost somewhere in the chaos of the last fight. The goblins had come in waves, relentless and hungry, and she had cut down dozens before her body finally betrayed her.

She had run. Not because she was a coward but because she had no choice. She wasn't afraid of dying—she had accepted long ago that death would find her one day. But not like this.

Not weak. Not powerless. Not hunted like an animal.

She had stumbled into the ruins of an old temple, her knees giving out as she collapsed against a broken pillar. The sound of growls and shuffling feet echoed in the distance, drawing closer. She had nowhere left to go, no strength left to fight.

For the first time, Selene truly felt helpless.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she stared at the cracked ceiling above her. Was this it? Was this how she died? After everything she had fought through, after clawing her way through the filth and the suffering, was she going to end up as just another nameless corpse in the ruins of a world that had long since stopped caring?

She hated it. She hated the weakness, the failure. But she was so damn tired.

Her body slumped, her fingers curling into fists as she prepared to let the darkness take her. She could hear them now—the goblins, their guttural laughter echoing off the walls. They knew she had nowhere left to run.

Then, the air changed.

The pressure was so immense that it made her breath catch in her throat and sweep through the temple. The goblins froze, their laughter choking into uneasy silence. The room, once filled with the stench of death and fear, suddenly felt different—like the very world itself was holding its breath.

Selene forced her eyes open, her blurred vision barely making out the shape of a man standing at the temple's entrance.

He wasn't human.

She knew it the moment she saw him.

His presence alone shattered reality. He stood there, a shadow against the ruined temple's backdrop, his golden eyes glowing like twin stars burning in the abyss. Power radiated from him, suffocating yet intoxicating, a presence so overwhelming that it drowned out everything else.

The goblins reacted first, launching themselves at him like beasts. Selene wanted to warn and tell him to run, but she could barely find the strength to breathe. Not that he needed her warning.

He moved, and the world tore apart at his will.

One second, the goblins were charging; the next, they were gone—not just dead, but erased. There was no battle, no struggle, just absolute power, an effortless destruction that left nothing behind.

Selene had never seen anything like it.

She had fought, bled, and clawed her way to power, believing strength was earned through suffering. But this man—this god—was on a level beyond comprehension.

And then… he looked at her.

For the first time in her life, Selene felt truly small. Not in the way she had when she was younger and when the world was cruel and powerless. This was different. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't ashamed. She was simply in awe.

He walked toward her, his steps slow, deliberate. His eyes softened when he crouched beside her, the intensity shifting into something more… curious.

"You're not ready to die yet," he said, his voice smooth, almost teasing.

Selene wanted to laugh, but the sound came out as a broken exhale. "Doesn't seem like I have much of a choice."

He smirked. Gods shouldn't smirk.@@novelbin@@

And yet, there was something infuriatingly perfect about it.

"I don't usually pick up strays," he mused, tilting his head as if considering something. "But… you're interesting."

She tried to hold his gaze, but it was too much. He wasn't just looking at her—he was seeing her. Every wound, every scar, every moment of pain and defiance that had shaped her into the person she was.

He saw everything.

And yet, he didn't turn away.

Selene's fingers twitched. She was at the end. She had nothing left. If he hadn't shown up, she would have died in that temple, alone and forgotten.

But now…

"What's your name?" he asked.

She hesitated. "Selene."

He seemed pleased by that. "Well, Selene, you have two options."

He held up one hand. "You can stay here and die. If that's what you want, I won't stop you."

His other hand reached out toward her. "Or… you can take my hand, and I'll give you something better than death."

Selene stared at the offered hand.

It should have been an easy decision. She should have taken it without hesitation. But something inside her still whispered doubt.

"What's the catch?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk widened. "You'll belong to me."

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She knew what that meant. She felt what that meant. She would no longer be her own—she would be his.

And yet…

Hadn't she already lost everything?

What was she holding onto? Her pride? Her independence? Those things had never protected her. They had only left her alone.

For the first time in her life, she let go.

Her fingers closed around his hand.

Like fire igniting inside her soul, a spark ran through her veins, something powerful awakening in her blood. She gasped, eyes widening as the world around her exploded in color, sensation, and raw, untamed power.

Jack watched her reaction with amusement, his grip tightening just slightly.

"Good girl," he murmured.