Zashirmiq stood on top of New Tashmir's wall, staring at the ruins of Old Tashmir. That city was once full of light and life. Now, it was dead. Broken towers reached up like jagged bones. Thick shadows danced between the ruins.
Mutated Beasts, Hollowed Humans, and Hollowed Beasts roamed the streets below. Their twisted bodies reminded everyone of what the world had become.
Years of fighting had turned the land into a battlefield. The weak were already gone. Only the strong remained, fighting to survive.
Twenty years ago, the world changed without warning. Plants, animals, and even humans began to mutate. No one knew why. Later, scientists discovered a new type of energy. They called it Chaos.
This energy was wild and unstable. It slowly spread across the planet, warping nature itself. Cities like Tashmir fell, consumed by Chaos and the creatures it created.
Before the chaos, Serenata had flourished. The planet had close ties with other races across the star system: the Elves of Lunaris, the towering Jovian Behemoths on Ares, the skilled Dwarves mining the Asteroid Belt, the clever Fox Race on Aurora, and the enigmatic Shadow Beasts on Nyx, to name a few. Trade was strong. Cultures mixed. Life thrived.
But when Chaos arrived, everything changed.
All communication was lost. The skies fell silent. Humanity was left alone to face the invasion, unsure if their allies had survived or if they too had been consumed by the spreading darkness.
After Chaos appeared, people began to change. A strange system awakened inside every human. Later, it was called the Nexium system.
Some believed it was linked to a hidden organ, something buried deep in the body and activated by Chaos. Others thought the universe gave it to help fight the threat. A few believed it came from something beyond even the universe. Its true nature remains unknown.
The Nexium system acts like a personal interface. It shows a person's level, stats, and energy domains. This system let survivors connect to the chaotic energies filling their world and use that power to fight back.
Chaos didn't just reshape life it reshaped the land. The earth itself grew strange. Crops mutated, and fruits gained unusual magical powers. Old technology stopped working.
Doctors became the first alchemists, blending natural ingredients into potions that healed, strengthened, and restored. Engineers, drawn to tinkering, pioneered artifact refining, creating tools and weapons fueled by energy. Scientists, with their love for patterns and structures, began to shape the foundations of array magic.
These disciplines, called Specialized Domains by the system, Alchemy, Artifact Refining, and Array Crafting, began as desperate experiments with Essence Shards and Nexium energy. Over time, they became lifelines.
New Tashmir, now fortified by towering walls and vigilant defenders, was one of the last strongholds for the people of Tashmir. Before Chaos, the city and its surroundings held fifty million souls. When the walls were first raised, only three hundred thousand remained. Now, fewer than one hundred thousand lived inside the city.
The outskirts were far from empty. Mutated Beasts, Hollowed Humans, and Hollowed Beasts roamed freely through the ruins, turning the land into a deadly wilderness.
Beyond the walls lay shattered high-tech infrastructure, fallen satellites, broken communication arrays, reminders of a world lost. Despite humanity's advanced technology, much of it had become useless against the Chaos invasion.
New Tashmir was ruled by the City Lord, the strongest individual in the city with a level near 150, supported by three vice lords. Strength was everything in this world. The higher your level and the stronger your Nexium, the greater your power and status.
To protect the weak, the City Lord had established a governance system that provided rations, shelter, and basic training to all survivors. It gave everyone a chance, regardless of their starting point. But like any system, it wasn't perfect. Those with power could still find ways to bend it to their advantage.
Zashirmiq knew this brutal world intimately. It was the only world he had ever known. He grew up among the ruins, with destruction always close. His parents had been heroes, key defenders of New Tashmir. They fought bravely until a horde of Hollowed Humans overwhelmed them when Zashirmiq was just two years old. Their sacrifice earned him a small pension, enough to sustain him until he turned eighteen, a constant reminder of the price paid for his survival.
In this broken world, alchemy was a lifeline. Potions and elixirs, like healing elixirs, stamina restorers, and the rare Revitalization Potion, were key to survival, to name a few. Revitalization Potions were especially prized, able to pull someone back from the edge of death and even repair a damaged Nexium.
Zashirmiq's goal was simple yet daunting: to buy the potion that could heal his broken Nexium, an injury believed to have happened during the Hollowed tide that claimed his parents. The cost was high, far beyond what most could afford. But Zashirmiq had saved relentlessly, setting aside nearly all of his pension and working for years to gather the needed funds.
Now, he finally had enough. Tomorrow, he would buy the potion that could change everything, give him the strength to protect himself and those he loved.
Zashirmiq turned his gaze back to the wastelands beyond the wall. Down below, Ayesha battled a hulking Mutated Beast alone, her movements swift and precise. Not far from her, Hina and Hira worked together, scanning the wild for rare herbs and ores. On the eastern ridge, Fahad and his squad clashed with a raging Hollowed Beast, while Sahar led her team against a pack of Hollowed Humans near the shattered overpass. In the distance, dozens more teams fought their own battles, each one striving to grow stronger in this harsh world. A quiet warmth filled Zashirmiq's chest. These were his friends, each of them pushing forward despite the danger. Tomorrow, he would join them. Tomorrow, he would finally begin to rise.
As Zashirmiq turned back toward home, his thoughts drifted to Amina. She was his first love, a constant since childhood, bold, loyal, and fearless in battle. While their bond remained strong, it was no longer unique. Hina, Hira, Ayesha, and others from their childhood had grown closer too, each carving a quiet place in his heart as they fought their own battles across the city's outskirts.
Still, Amina held a special place.
Her curvy, athletic figure was shaped by survival and daily combat, her natural-toned skin and almond-shaped eyes always commanding attention. Her long, dark hair, often braided for practicality, framed a face marked by determination and quiet fire.
Her powers of fire and lightning matched her spirit, fierce, passionate, and explosive in combat. Yet with Zashirmiq, the fire softened. In rare moments alone, her confidence gave way to something gentler, a wordless trust that hinted at feelings neither of them had ever voiced.
His home was modest and unadorned, a small shelter that reflected the simplicity of his solitary life. Once decorated with posters and childhood sketches, the walls now stood bare, silent witnesses to the world that had crumbled around him.
He was about to sit when his communicator buzzed. The screen flashed with Fathima's name.
He tapped it and spoke casually, "Hey, Fathima. What's up?"
There was a pause. Then her voice came through, shaky and tight.
"It's Amina. She's been hurt. Bad. They took her to Al-Hariri Medical Center. She's in critical condition."
The words slammed into him.
The world tilted.
Amina, his first love, his anchor, the one constant in a world of loss, was fighting for her life.
He didn't respond. He was already moving, bolting through the streets, heart pounding.
Only one thought rang in his mind:
He had to reach her.