Ages ago, Earth underwent a drastic change. An all-powerful, omniscient force descended upon Earth and marked nine individuals with magical Runes.

  When their Runes grew and matured, they were thrust into apocalyptic worlds with the goal of stopping the end of the world there.

  After achieving their mission and returning to Earth, they began a new era.

  As those nine individuals grew stronger, so did the force that marked them. In fact, that force grew so much that it started marking other people around the globe with magical Runes.

  However, the Runes possessed by these newly marked individuals only held a fraction of the power wielded by the original nine marked individuals.

  Later, that force was named the System.

  After a few decades, those nine individuals ascended to Godhood, and their direct descendants, the Demigods, established nine families known as the Original Houses.

  The Demigods, also known as the Originals, possessed stronger Runes compared to the rest of the mortals. Thus, they were worshiped in this new world.

  Centuries later, in today's time, the System has grown so much that it could rival the heavens themselves. It still marks the youth and throws them into apocalyptic worlds with the mission of stopping the apocalypse there.

  As a result of that, Earth has transformed into a spacefaring empire known as the Earthen Empire, and it is governed by the Original Houses.

  This mighty Earthen Empire reigns over a dominion consisting of thousands of conquered worlds – worlds that were saved and brought into the Empire by its valiant heroes.

  This is an age of gods and heroes. The age of magic and technology. The age of legends and myth! The age of space conquest and superpowers!

  ???

  "Alright, who can tell me what makes the great Originals different from us mortals?"

  Elian breathed a sigh. His baggy, unfocused, and sleep-deprived eyes blankly gazed out of the window onto the academy's courtyard.

  Down there, where tomorrow's annual ceremony would take place, underclassmen were busy setting the stage, ceremoniously decorating the small plaza, and preparing all kind of gifts for their favorite seniors.

  He just knew he wouldn't get anything. After all, no one was wishing for his safe return, not even his family.

  Well, perhaps his elder brother and little sister cared a bit, but even those two hadn't talked to him in years.

  "The Originals are Demigods, so they can easily transcend to Godhood!"

  Unbeknownst to the turmoil of his heart, one student raised his hand inside the class and began answering the teacher's question.

  Miss McConnell, their homeroom teacher, shook her head with visible disappointment present on her wrinkled face.

  "No, dear. That is a popular misconception. They are Demigods, yes. But even they can't ascend to true Godhood because the secret to ascension was lost in the War of Hope. The vile Chaos Spawns destroyed all the ancient records."

  As soon as Miss McConnell spoke those words, Elian physically felt all the eyes in the room turning to him, glaring daggers at him with a mix of disdain and revulsion.

  Some students began whispering among themselves in a hushed tone, while others outright cursed him as if they wanted him to hear.

  Miss McConnell hesitated for a few seconds before finally pitching in. "Okay, everyone, pay attention to the lecture."

  The students redirected their undivided focus to the woman standing atop the podium at the far end of the classroom.

  "There are Nine Great Runes in the world, each governing a different aspect of existence. The Originals, depending on which House they belong to, possess one of these Nine Great Runes passed down in their bloodline. On the other hand, every other rune that we mortals have is just a derivation of those Great Runes – a mere fraction of the genuine thing."

  Miss McConnell took a deep breath and waited until the students absorbed all the information before continuing in a calm, collected tone:

  "The key difference between us mortals and the great Originals is choice. We don't get to choose our Discipline. It's predetermined for us from the moment we are marked by our Runes. Originals, however, can choose from multiple Disciplines. And get this - even after choosing one, they can still use other types of magic governed by their Rune."

  The elderly woman paused, swept a scrutinizing gaze around the classroom, and smiled after noticing some awe-struck faces of the students.

  Most of what she said was common knowledge, yet children always loved hearing about the Originals. They were, after all, Demigods walking among men. They were heroes of modern times.

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  "In simple words, our Runes only allow us to use a very specific kind of magic, while Originals, even after choosing a Discipline, can use a variety of magic that comes under their Rune's authority. This makes them not only extremely strong but also overly unpredictable. If an Original and a mortal were to clash, the Original would almost always come out on top."

  Miss McConnell looked around the class once again and pointed at a student – a jacked kid with ripped muscles and a tall stature.

  "For example, Rynard, why don't you tell the class what type of Rune you are marked with?" she asked.

  The boy named Rynard stood up with a puffed chest and spoke in a proud, almost conceited tone, "My Rune is a derivation of Elemental Rune. It grants me the power of Lithokinesis – rock manipulation and stuff."

  Miss McConnell nodded. "Now, a member of the Emberforge family, the holders of Elemental Rune, would not only be able to use all the spells that you can cast but also many others."

  Almost immediately, Rynard's shoulders slumped as if he didn't like what he was hearing. Of course, he didn't. Everyone in the academy knew just how much of an egomaniac this guy was.

  Well, he had the right to be prideful. Rynard was strong. In fact, he could be said to be on the same level as some of the Original kids of his age. He was truly a one-of-a-kind prodigy, ranking third among the Top Fives of the academy.

  Thud—!!

  Regrettably, before Miss McConnell could conclude her lecture, a sudden thumping sound followed by a chain of squeals and cries erupted from the back of the classroom.

  Even Elian stopped dazedly staring out the window and turned his head around to see what in the world was happening.

  Back there, he saw a young girl he couldn't bother to remember the name of had collapsed on the ground. The students around her, alarmed and apprehensive, gasped and jumped back with pale faces.

  "Whispers! She submitted to the Whispers!" one of them shouted.

  "She isn't moving! Oh, god! Oh, god! We all will die here!" another student near her yelled.

  Soon, the whole class descended into a full-blown panic.

  "She's turning into a monster! Look, her face is getting weird!"

  "Shut up, Stanly! Her face has always been like that!"

  "No! I can't die here! I'm not even married yet!"

  Seeing the spreading hysteria, Miss McConnell exhaustedly rolled her eyes and palmed her face.

  Every year around the year's end, incidents like these would happen at least once in her classroom. In times like these, she couldn't help but question all her life choices that led to her becoming a teacher.

  But alas, no matter how much she wanted to take a break, Miss McConnell had to act and control the panicking students. And so she did.

  She raised her hand and snapped her fingers. Almost instantly, a sharp, high-pitched sound echoed in the spacious classroom, gnawing at the eardrums of everyone present.

  Screaming and shrieking, everyone covered their ears in a futile attempt to muffle the high-pitch ring that was clawing their brains out.

  Fortunately, in the next moment, the sound stopped, and everyone – all forty of the students – turned to their homeroom teacher with perplexed expressions.

  To be honest, using sound magic to make them snap out of it wasn't entirely necessary. Miss McConnell could've tried to calm them down by explaining to them that they weren't in danger.

  But just getting their attention would've taken too long, and years of experience suggested that this was the easiest way. Besides, trying to calm down a panicking mass is a fool's errand. Reason is the first victim when chaos arrives, after all.

  After making sure that everyone had stopped freaking out and were looking at her and her alone, Miss McConnell cleared her throat and said:

  "I'm sorry, but will you all please calm down? No one has submitted to the Whispers, and no one is turning into a monster. In fact, you can't even go off the deep end before your First Riftwalk. Kelly there has merely lost consciousness because her mind couldn't take any more strain from the Whispers, that's it."

  Only after listening to their homeroom teacher did the color return to everyone's faces. Right, it was common knowledge that the Whispers can't break one's mind until after they've entered their first Rift.

  Everyone had just been so on edge lately that their minds skipped this obvious fact and jumped to all kinds of ridiculous conclusions when they saw their fellow student pass out.

  Seeing the kids cool down, Miss McConnell nodded. "Now, can someone help me bring Kelly to the hospital building?"

  Several students jumped up from their seats and offered their hands, picking up the fainted girl and carrying her to the medical ward.

  Elian looked at the scene with a disconnected expression, not bothering to help. It wasn't like he didn't want to help, but he just knew his offer wouldn't be welcomed.

  Besides, he didn't think that girl would like the idea of him touching her. He didn't know her, nor had he ever interacted with her, but he could make an experienced guess.

  Most people weren't keen on having him near them, let alone having him touch them. And in all honesty, he couldn't blame them. How could he when even his own mother wouldn't let him near her?

  (Then why don't you just kill her?)

  Right as he was recalling some painful memories, Elian heard a deep, distorted, venomous voice in his head.

  He clenched his fists and released an exasperated grunt, suppressing the urge to slam his desk. He tried to ignore the voice as usual, but the voice kept viciously persisting.

  (In fact, why don't you kill them all? Slaughter your entire family. Most of them are only half-related to you anyway. Here's an interesting suggestion: start from this class, why don't you?)

  Elian held a breath, trying to repress his wildly beating heart. With dreadful hesitation, he reluctantly moved his eyes to look toward the classroom door as the voice continued.

  (After all, what have any of these people ever done to deserve your mercy? They bully you! Taunt you! Kick you down! Spit on you! Forget respect; they don't even see you as a human! I say you prove them right and become a monster! I say you kill them all! Show them why the blood of chaos was once feared by even the gods!)

  There, standing just a few steps away from the door frame was a dark silhouette of an imposing monster shrouded in layers and layers of sinistrous, pitch-black shadows.

  The people passing by carrying the unconscious girl didn't seem to notice the fiendish figure. Yes, Elian was the only one capable of perceiving this thing.

  Why? Well, it was in his head.

  No, he wasn't insane. Or maybe he was?

  …No.

  No, he definitely wasn't.

  After being Marked by their Runes, everyone starts experiencing a supernatural phenomenon known as the Whispering.

  As its name suggests, the Marked Ones would start hearing vague, maddening Whispers that would force them to relinquish control of their minds by gradually pushing them to the cusp of insanity.

  After one submits to the Whispers and goes insane, they transform into an eldritch monster.

  All that happens to ordinary people. For Chaos Spawns like Elian, the Whispers aren't as vague as they are for others. In fact, they aren't Whispers at all – they are Voices.

  And along with these voices, they also experience cognitive hallucinations – both of those things encouraging them to go on a murder spree.

  (What? Not even gonna kill at least one person? You know what, Elian? They are right about you! All of them are right about you! You are pathetic! You are a disappointment! It makes sense why no one loves you; there is nothing to love!)

  As his patience grew thin, Elian shot a seething glare at the dark silhouette. If only he could touch this bastard, he would've strangled it to death a long time ago!

  "Hey! What are you staring at, freak?!"

  What shook Elian out of his violent thoughts was a sharp, furious voice coming from his left. Standing there by his seat was a muscular young man with lusterless black hair and eyes of the same color. It was Rynard.

  Around him were five more guys and girls. They were his lackeys, although they didn't like hearing that term.

  "You were staring at Kelly, weren't you, freak?!" one of the guys beside Rynard spoke in a tone full of acquisition. He then looked at his clique and yelled, "I bet he did something to her earlier! That's why she fainted!"

  "Yeah, I bet he used some kind of Chaos Magic!" another one shouted. "See his eyes! See if they are red! Maybe he used the Cursed Eyes!"

  "What?! Are you all insane!" Elian stood up on his spot and vehemently exclaimed. "I didn't do anything! Besides, Chaos Magic is forbidden! Where would I even find a spell?!"

  "Who can tell? Maybe your birth father gave you one or something? How would we know?" one of the two girls in the group shrugged.

  "Oh, that's right, Malena!" the first guy sneered. "Maybe his father finally remembered he has a son from a bitch he bedded years ago–"

  Before the young man could finish his sentence, however, Elian snapped. He straightened his palm like a sword and thrust it toward the guy's throat.

  Thwack—!!

  But before Elian's palm could connect, Rynard stepped in and grabbed his hand by the wrist. Not giving him a chance to react, Rynard yanked Elian inward by the arm and bashed his face with a fist.

  The disorienting impact from the punch sent Elian stumbling back until he fell to one knee. If it was any other kid, by now, his nose would've turned into a bloody mess.

  But it was not that easy to make Elian bleed. That didn't mean he wasn't hurt, though. In fact, he was in a world of pain.

  Weakly groaning, he craned his neck and saw Rynard towering over him like a wall that he feared he would never be able to cross.

  Noticing a hint of distress in Elian's eyes, the corner of Rynard's lips curled up into a menacing smirk. He stepped closer to the kneeling boy and proclaimed, "I guess I have no choice. I'll have to punish you for using Chaos Magic, won't I?”