Chapter 26
DEADLINE CREATURES
"These creatures have been around for as long as we can remember. They are parasites that multiply endlessly, and would have likely infested the entire planet by now if we weren't constantly keeping them at bay."
Milo's voice echoed through the steel-plated room. Every eye was locked on him.
"We have no idea where they came from. They all share the same trait — they vanish into nothing upon death. We've observed no signs of reproduction. They do not breed, they do not mate. They simply... appear. Spontaneously. Hence, the lowest level of a Deadline creature is referred to as a Spawn."
He began pacing slowly across the front of the classroom, the lines on his thin face tight with grim resolve.
"The longer they survive, the more powerful and fearsome they become. While they spawn from seemingly nothing, we've found they're far more likely to appear in abandoned places, areas desolate of humans. The larger the concentration of Deadline creatures, the more the very environment begins to rot."
He paused.
"You've all noticed it, haven't you? The grey clouds. The sickly fog. The tainted air and dying landscapes. That's them. That's their poison. It infects the ground, the skies, the weather. And it only spreads."
The silence in the room grew thicker.
"This all supports the leading theory — that Deadline creatures are not born from hatred or violence, but from dead paths and dead starts. From what was once abandoned or forgotten, they rise. Infesting our world with abstract, unnatural powers."
Some says that due to their abstract powers they might be a remains of a divine being or even one of the divine beings that descended into this world... This is also yet to be proven.
Before we get even more specific, are you following? "..
Silence.
IAM could feel a bead of sweat trail down the side of his face. He wasn't the only one. All around him, recruits sat in stunned silence — eyes wide, mouths slightly open.
Milo cleared his throat and continued:
"One of the reasons they're so terrifying is their sheer diversity. There's no fixed pattern. Some are violently aggressive. Others are eerily peaceful… until disturbed. Some do not resist, even in near death, Some commit suicide for no apparent reason. Some resemble us. Others are incomprehensible masses of limbs, mist, or spirit. Some are intelligent. Some speak. Some… learn."
He clicks a remote again. A chart appeared on the screen behind him , glowing red.
"To make any sense of them, we've created classifications based on danger levels — not how easy they are to kill, but how dangerous they are if things go wrong. Many are manageable… if you exploit the right weakness. But fail to do so? You die."
LEVELS OF DEADLINE CREATURES:
Spawns: Newly formed. Weakest stage. Can be killed with basic weapons and decent strength. But beware: some possess mental powers that make them deceptively dangerous.
Devilborns: Lived longer. Highly dangerous. Requires use of your path techniques. Engaging them alone is a high risk.
Devils: Lived for a long amount of time, Deadly. Must not be faced alone. Four or more Masters recommended. Capable of destroying entire villages. If you're not a Master, run.
IAM swallowed. Hard.
Milo's tone dropped even lower now. "The following are not public knowledge. This information does not leave this room."
Tyrants: Age unknown. Fatal. Encounter rate: rare. If seen, put your weapon down and pray. Even Masters are useless. Only Ascenders at the level of Great Lord stand a chance. A Tyrant can threaten multiple countries.
IAM's eyes widened.
Great Lord? A level beyond Master? He'd never even heard of that rank before. Probably because the books that he read in the library did not have such information. He needed to have a higher status to be able to read such books with sensitive information.
Well, Tyrants sounds like absolute menaces, I hope I never have to fight one... But what is a Great lord?
But Milo wasn't done.
TRAGEDY?: No confirmed sightings. No evidence. We have never seen or encountered one, and are even doubtful of if it even exists, but in the little history clues we have after the blackout in history, after the 7 heroes stopped The Tragedy, it was insinuated that it might very possibly happen again. Several great lords might be able to save some from its wrath.
Woah that's crazy, first of all this suggest to IAM that Holem had encountered a Tyrant before, but based on what Ryan had said the rest of the world was unaware of such a disaster happening... Or maybe the ones who had was already dead.
And the revelation that there was a big possibility of The Tragedy happening again... How ominous and terrifying... Hopefully it doesn't happen as long as I'm alive... Wait a minute, I have been placing red flags all over the place!!
IAM wanted to smack his forehead in frustration and sincerely hoped he did not just do what he think he did.
Milo paused and let the weight of his words settle. The classroom felt like a tomb.
"From here on," Milo said, "we'll go into known encounters — specific creatures we've faced, how we survived, and how others didn't. What to do. What never to do."
His voice grew steely.
"This class is not about glory. It's not about courage. It's about survival. That's all."
After the first theory class, streams of volunteers poured out of the classroom like survivors of a nightmare, their faces pale and eyes wide — as if they'd seen a ghost. But considering what they'd just heard… most of them would rather have duke it out with the ghost.
There was a 30-minute break before physical training, during which the recruits were free to do as they pleased. IAM and Kepa headed to the hub — Ryan had dragged Hen off somewhere without much explanation, leaving the two of them alone.
Their destination was the cafeteria, nestled within the same sprawling, monolithic hub that had once filled IAM with a strange sense of dread. Looking back, he couldn't quite understand why the place had unnerved him so much. The food was good. Surprisingly good.
They arrived at one of the many meal stations, where a man and a woman — both dressed in sleek, sterile uniforms — took their orders. The moment a selection was made, they tapped a few keys on a glowing panel, and like magic, the food came through an opening from underneath and was placed on a tray before them. No waiting. No delay. Instant and efficient.
A digital menu was displayed overhead, flickering gently. IAM ordered eggs, toast, and a glass of orange juice — comfort food, simple and warm. Kepa, on the other hand, ordered... pizza.
IAM raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Kepa noticed the look and simply shrugged before diving in, devouring the slices without ceremony, not even bothering to get a drink.
Bellies full, the two made their way back toward the dome. Inside, they were directed to a new facility — a massive training area that looked like it had been carved straight from a sci-fi military fantasy.
On the left side of the room stretched a sprawling gym filled with rows of high-tech equipment — squat racks reinforced with dense alloy, treadmills that monitored vitals in real-time, and weighted machines that adjusted resistance based on the user's strength output and more.
On the right, a massive open white space spread out like a blank canvas, clearly designated for combat drills, sparring, or path practice. The floor shimmered faintly, a sign of protective enchantments or pressure-resistant tech layered beneath the surface.
IAM took it all in, wide-eyed. This place was serious.
Then he spotted a familiar figure of Regina Carlos — her signature poised demeanor unmistakable even among the chaos. She stood just behind a tall, burly decendent of The Beastman- man with cropped blonde hair and a pair of sleek, military-style glasses. His posture screamed discipline, and even from a distance, he gave off the kind of energy that warned you not to mess with him.
IAM's eyes narrowed in curiosity.
What's Regina doing with that guy...?