CHAPTER 1 — DIRT, STARS, AND DEBT

  In the year 2176, humanity collapsed.

  Nuclear wars and pollution had ruined the Earth beyond repair. Oceans turned black, skies went brown, and the air itself felt like poison. Some of the rich pooled everything they had and tried to leave. Built a massive shuttle to escape. They never made it. A meteor storm shredded the ship mid-orbit. Billions watched their last chance vanish in flames.

  Three years later, in 2179, everything changed again.

  That’s when they woke up.

  –TERRA BEASTS–

  Monsters born from Earth’s fury. Colossal, twisted things that crawled from the cracks, as if the planet itself had finally had enough of us.

  And opposite them, came the humans who didn’t stay normal.

  –THE BLESSED–

  Awakened. Gifted. Touched by... something. Nobody knows why. But these weren’t just survivors anymore. They were power incarnate.

  That’s the world we live in now. Monsters vs miracles.

  And I’m just... me.

  -**********-

  I never really liked mornings.

  Not because they were early or loud—though they were both. It was more about what came after. Wake up, eat tasteless paste, put on your gear, dig until your fingers bleed. Repeat.

  The mines didn’t care if your back ached or if you hadn’t slept. The mines just wanted more.

  I tossed my blanket aside and got up from the cot. The dorm smelled like sweat and mold. Same as yesterday. Same as the last ten years.

  Ten years. Since I was eight.

  I pulled on my shirt, tied off the sleeves, laced up my boots. Helmet. Goggles. All cracked or half-broken, but they worked.

  “Section 4A,” the loudspeaker barked. “Report in. You’re late.”

  No time to eat. Not that I was hungry. You stop feeling hunger after a while—it just becomes another ache in the background.

  I stepped out, the dust already coating my boots. The sun barely touched this place. Clouds of chemical smog kept it out. If you wanted light, you used lamps. Or fire.

  The walk to my section was quiet. Just the sound of drills grinding rock, chains clinking, the occasional cough that sounded worse than it should. Some of the others gave small nods, but no one said much.

  Names didn’t matter anymore. Just your number. Your Points.

  I’m Eli Morgan but you can call me Eli. No last name needed. Not because I’m edgy or mysterious. Just because it stopped mattering. This world doesn’t need families. It needs workers. And if you’re not Blessed, then you work.

  Simple math.

  I headed down to the trench, grabbed my pick, and started swinging.

  Pick. Swing. Chip. Repeat.

  The rhythm was all that kept me sane sometimes. It drowned out everything else—hunger, pain, the sound of someone screaming three tunnels over.

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  And it got me Points.

  That’s the only thing that matters. Points.

  You earn them, save them, use them. And if you’re lucky—if you’re smart—you save up 7 billion.

  Why 7 billion?

  That’s the cost of a Life Voucher.

  A pass to Eden.

  Eden is the last real city on Earth. Walled off, self-sustaining, clean. No Terra Beasts, no smog, no mines. Just high-rises, fresh air, proper food, and protection.

  They say it has 2.4 million people, almost six thousand of them Blessed.

  It’s run by the strongest and safest organization left: D.I.V.I.N.E.

  Defensive Interception and Vanguard Initiative for Neutralizing Entities

  They guard the walls, hunt the Beasts, regulate the Blessed. Keep the city from turning into the rest of the world.

  You want to live there? You need a Life Voucher. It gets you a house, a job, a future.

  I’ve saved 78 million so far.

  Only 6,922,000,000 to go.

  But I’ll get there. I have to. My parents left behind 140 million in debt. And I’ve spent ten years paying that down and stacking everything I could.

  So I just kept swinging. Pick. Swing. Chip.

  The day dragged on like always. Same coughing. Same screaming. Same silence in between.

  Then something different happened.

  A sharp voice echoed across the trench.

  “Supervisor to section 3A—owner on deck!”

  I paused. What?

  No one from management ever came down here. And if they did, they sure as hell didn’t bring guests.

  I glanced up.

  There they were. Standing on the upper platform.

  The owner, nervous and sweaty, doing his usual kiss-up routine.

  But next to him stood a man I’d never seen before.

  Tall. Broad shoulders. Black hair slicked back. Eyes like ink—flat and unreadable. He wore a pitch-black suit, spotless, not a speck of dust on him. Even his shoes gleamed. His beard was neat, trimmed razor-clean.

  He looked like he belonged on a magazine cover. Not a mine.

  I elbowed the guy next to me. “That a noble?”

  “Probably Eden folk,” he muttered.

  Yeah. Had to be.

  Nobody else had suits like that anymore. Or the guts to walk into a place like this.

  But why was he here?

  I didn’t get time to ask.

  The ground shook.

  At first, I thought it was just a drill going too deep. Happens sometimes. But this wasn’t that.

  The floor trembled. Dust fell from the ceiling. Metal groaned.

  And then the wall exploded.

  A geyser of molten rock and flame burst through the far side of the trench. A shockwave slammed through the air, knocking people off their feet. Heat seared my skin even from twenty meters away.

  And then I saw it.

  A creature.

  Massive. Wrong.

  Its skin was like obsidian cracked with glowing lava. Jagged spikes ran along its back. Its face—if you could call it that—had too many eyes and a jaw that split into four parts. Its head looked part dinosaur, part serpent, but the rest of its body moved like a snake standing upright.

  Its roar shook the entire mine.

  –MAGNA DRACOVERMIS–

  A Terra Beast.

  People screamed. Sirens blared. Alarms painted everything in flashing red.

  “BEAST INCOMING! BEAST INCOMING!”

  Everyone ran.

  I ran too. I’m not proud of it, but I’m not suicidal either. Nobody survives one of these. Not without power.

  The beast thrashed through equipment, lava spilling from its mouth as it roared again. Men got caught in the wave—vanished in fire.

  I looked back—couldn’t help it.

  And saw something insane.

  The man in the suit? The noble?

  He was in the air.

  Just hovering. Floating with purpose.

  Black tendrils snaked out from his fingertips, anchoring him to metal bars and walls like a spider webbing its lair.

  His body moved fluid, precise—like gravity didn’t apply.

  He raised a hand. The threads responded, whipping out with deadly speed. They slammed into the beast’s face, yanking it backward. The monster screamed.

  Then more threads appeared. Dozens. Hundreds. Wrapping around its limbs, binding it like a puppet.

  The man clenched his fist.

  Snap.

  The threads pulled tight—so tight they shimmered.

  And then the beast burst. A hundred molten pieces splattered across the mine walls. Just... gone.

  Silence.

  All I could hear was the faint hiss of cooling lava and my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

  He landed. Calm. Not a scratch on him.

  The threads retracted into his fingers and vanished like smoke.

  Someone whispered, breathless:

  “A Blessed...”

  Of course.

  Only a Blessed could do something like that.

  Later, I sat outside the wrecked mess hall. My face was still caked in dust. My arms ached. But my mind couldn’t stop replaying what I saw.

  That power.

  That control.

  He made it look easy.

  The man stood near the platform again, talking to the owner like nothing had happened. Like vaporizing a monster was just another Tuesday.

  He looked down once. Our eyes met.

  He nodded. Slight. Barely noticeable.

  And then he turned away.

  I don’t know why that stuck with me. But it did.

  Not because it made me feel strong but because it made me feel weak.

  Weaker than I had ever been.

  I felt trapped.