The screen went dark.

Derek didn't move. The room was quiet again. A heavy kind of quiet, like the world itself was holding its breath.

And then something shifted.

There was no visual. No ripple of energy. No alert from the System. But something else was there—imposing, yet unseen. Not in the house, not outside—but everywhere.

A voice came, without a source.

"Hah... they're already screaming."

It wasn't deep or dramatic. Just amused. The kind of voice someone might use while watching ants fight over crumbs.

"Didn't think it would be this noisy this early. They're more fragile than the projections suggested, but far more... animated."

There was a crackle behind the words, like the edge of a frequency not meant to be heard.

Suddenly, Derek felt an eye watching him, trying to scan him and peer into his secrets. He visualised a giant eye in the sky; before that eye, he was nothing, everything about his past and his future would be known.

[ Investigation Of High Tier Being Detected...Initialising Counter]

The system's voice rang in his mind, drawing Derek from his stupor. But he still looked a bit dazed as though he had lost his soul.

The voice was quiet for a while, then said in amusement.

"There seem to be interesting people here"

A pause. Then, casual observation.

"Some of the creatures aren't even following protocol anymore. Good. Let them wander. Let them feed. A few have already learned to mimic structures and weapons. That should stir the pot faster."

It chuckled. Not a laugh, not manic—just entertained.

"I wonder how many cities will collapse in the next cycle. Five? Ten? Hard to say. These ones cling hard to hope. The more they lose, the more aggressive they get."

Another pause. Longer this time.

"They still don't know what's coming."

The voice grew quieter. Not because it was leaving, but because it was thinking. Evaluating.

"I'll check back in once the higher species start tearing each other apart. By then, the mana density should allow for better samples."

Then, silence. Real silence. Whatever presence had been there—watching, listening, maybe even feeding off the chaos—it was gone. No sign of it having ever been there.

Derek hadn't moved, but now he exhaled. His feeling was quite terrifying; he was still drenched in cold sweat.

" I have to kill that being someday? Who am I kidding?"

[Don't be disheartened with me here, you will be stronger than that in no time.] The system assured in a smug tone.

Derek chuckled and said nothing.

Whoever—that was… it wasn't the kind of enemy you could shoot down, with a Legendary grade mecha maybe.

For now, the being had not made a move; it was just watching.

Like this whole apocalypse was a test. Or a show.

And people were the data.

"System, alert me if there are any disturbances. I need to catch some sleep, tomorrow I have a base to build "

He laid on the king sized bed and hoped the monsters he would dream about were at least a bit handsome than usual.

Elsewhere in the world, chaos spread like a virus with no cure.

A family of five sprinted through a metro tunnel that had once connected downtown to the outer residential districts. Concrete was crumbling from the ceiling, and knee-high water splashed with every step they took. The youngest child slipped—again—and was yanked up by his mother without a word. She didn't dare scream.

Something shrieked behind them.

Not a human sound. Something moist, clicking, something that had too many joints and not enough thought.

One of the creatures had followed them down.

The flashlight the father held flickered. He aimed it backward, but the beam barely cut through the damp, heavy air. They kept running. No plan. No map. Just forward, until something stopped them.

A few blocks away, near an Old Stadium, a hastily assembled militia squad had blocked the main road with cars and portable barriers. They'd rigged tripwire explosives and tagged the street with warning signs.

It didn't matter.

What approached them walked like a man, waved like one, and even called for help.

By the time the truth clicked in their heads, it was already too close.

Jaws unhinged sideways. The creature's ribcage split open like a maw. The first two militia members died screaming. The last tried to throw a grenade, but the mimic had already slashed the tendons in his arm. The checkpoint fell without a single shot fired.

In the ruins of an elementary school, a child sat against a toppled cabinet in what used to be a third-grade classroom. Blood smeared the floors in handprints that didn't end in fingers. The flashlight in his lap blinked—three seconds on, five seconds off. His lips were trembling, but he didn't cry.

He'd learned not to.

Outside the broken window, one of the creatures sat perched on a flagpole. Watching. Not moving. Just waiting.

The world was bleeding from a thousand cuts. The government broadcast had echoed across cities and rural towns, offering hope, unity, and direction. But no broadcast could outrun the truth on the ground. No calm statement could reach a mother dragging her son through a collapsed stairwell. No promise meant anything to a teenager cornered in a basement by a beast that knew how to mimic his father's voice.

Some resisted. A few scavenged weapons from the dead and made last stands. Others found strength in desperation and tried to fight back, clinging to survival with blistered fingers.

But most just ran.

The sky offered no comfort. The stars were gone, choked by dark mana clouds that pulsed like veins in a corpse. Energy fields twisted overhead—unstable, invisible to most, but real enough to make electronics falter and drones fall from the air like toys dropped by careless gods.

Across the planet, these anomalies were growing.

Frequencies that never existed were now detectable.

Old maps no longer matched new landscapes.

Beasts weren't just evolving—they were skipping steps. Mimicking structures. Weapons. Even behaviours.

And somewhere, far beyond what Derek could see or measure, something was drifting between the layers of this world and others. Watching. Taking notes. Waiting.

It didn't care about cities.

It didn't care about survival.

It was waiting to see what would crawl out of the wreckage once the screaming stopped. Not with hope, but with teeth.

Back at Derek's mansion. Four hours later.

The system pinged softly, almost like it was trying not to startle him.

[Wake cycle initiated.]

Derek's eyes opened instantly. No grogginess. No groans. Just awareness, like a light switch flipping on.

His back ached slightly from staying motionless too long. The stiffness was familiar—almost welcome.

He sat up. Checked the alerts.

Nothing had breached the perimeter.

No signs of mana anomalies. No return of the presence that had spoken hours ago.

The world outside hadn't improved, but at least nothing had gotten worse here—yet.

He rolled his shoulders once, loosening the joints, then stood.

"Status on Phantom Cloud-1?"

[Operational. All systems green. Weapons recharged. Cloaking at 92%. Blade resonance recalibrated. Ready for deployment.]

.

There was no music. No dramatic narration. No cinematic cutaway.

Today wasn't about reclaiming the city. It wasn't about revenge. It wasn't even about saving people.

Today was about building a safe zone that could last more than a few hours. A place where others could stop running.

And maybe, if the plan held, start fighting back.

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