Kel was an ordinary man in an extraordinary world.
Here, the lucky ones awakened supernatural powers through a mysterious System. They could grow stronger with each battle, moving from nameless rookies to living legends. People called them Awakeners — the protectors of humanity. They ventured into otherworldly portals, slaying monsters and keeping the cities safe.
Because of them, life was possible. Because of them, humanity still stood.
It was no wonder most people no longer dreamed of office jobs or shop work. They dreamed of awakening — of power, fortune, and glory.
But Kel wasn't one of the lucky ones. No lightning in his veins, no sword that could split mountains. Just a sharp mind, a stubborn work ethic, and a body that had been damaged years ago when Mana Waken swept through the world. The treatment for his condition cost more than an orphan like him could ever hope to earn.
So Kel worked as a porter — a bag-bearer for Awakeners. He carried their supplies, fetched gear, and kept his head down. It paid better than an ordinary job, but it wasn't nearly enough.
That morning, as Kel lay in his small apartment, staring at the peeling ceiling paint, his phone buzzed. The caller ID read Uncle David.
Kel smirked and answered.
"Hey, Uncle. Long time no call. I was starting to think you'd forgotten me."
A chuckle rumbled through the speaker. "Forget you? Impossible. I've actually got a job for you, Kel. I got an invitation for a raid that needs two people. I'm going, and I want you with me. This one came from a big guild."
Kel sat up. "A big guild? Uncle, you know what they say about them. Half of them look down on regular people like us, and the other half… well, I've heard the stories. Using people as bait. Leaving them behind when things go bad."
David's tone softened. "Not this one. I know the guild master — they're good people. I wouldn't take you if I thought otherwise."
Kel hesitated. Uncle David wasn't perfect, but he wasn't a liar. "…Alright. Message me the time and place."
"Good. I'll text you everything after I confirm."
An hour later, Kel's phone buzzed again. He read the message — and froze.
Two of the top guilds in the country. A disaster-class portal.
His chest tightened. Disaster-class gates were nightmares — the kind of rifts that spawned monsters capable of flattening cities. Kel had only ever gone into the lowest-tier portals, and even then, he barely walked out without injury.
He checked the time. Five hours until the raid. No way to back out without burning his uncle.
Kel dragged a hand down his face. I'm going to kill you, Uncle…
But there was nothing for it. The location was hours away by taxi, and traffic could make it longer. With a sigh, he started getting ready — sturdy boots, gloves, his old reinforced backpack.
---
The taxi ride felt endless. Every time he thought about the crimson glow of a disaster-class portal, his stomach knotted tighter. By the time he arrived, the sky had turned the color of steel.
The portal loomed ahead like an open wound in reality.
Its edges pulsed crimson, each throb sending ripples through the air. The energy rolling off it was thick enough to make the hairs on Kel's arms stand.
Dozens of Awakeners milled about the staging area. Some adjusted polished armor that gleamed under the pale light. Others rested massive weapons on their shoulders — spears etched with runes, greatswords taller than Kel, bows strung with threads that shimmered like spider silk.
A voice called out. "Kel! Over here!"
Kel turned to see a broad-shouldered man in his forties waving — Uncle David, smiling like this was just another day.
"Uncle," Kel said as he walked over, "you're getting older every time I see you."
David snorted. "And you're still disrespectful. Everyone else compliments me, and you call me old." He clapped Kel on the shoulder. "Come on. I'll introduce you to the team leader — Savam. Good man. Always helps folks like us."
They crossed the staging ground toward a tall man with short black hair, his dark coat trimmed with silver thread. A silver lion's head badge marked him as a member of the Silver Fang Guild, one of the top two present. His gaze was steady, but not unkind.
"Leader Savam," David greeted, bowing slightly. "This is my nephew, Kel. He'll be working as a porter for our group."
Savam's eyes flicked over Kel — boots, gloves, pack — lingering for half a second on his hands. "No calluses from weapons," he observed. "You've never fought in a raid?"
Kel swallowed. "Only in low-level portals… carrying gear, mostly."
Savam nodded once, then gestured to the left. "Stay behind the vanguard at all times. If you see a monster, you let the fighters handle it. You're here to carry supplies and stay alive, understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Stick with your uncle. And… don't stray from the group. This gate isn't like the ones you've seen before."
Kel caught a flicker of something in Savam's eyes — not fear exactly, but the awareness of danger so real it was practically a scent.
A shout rose from the other side of the staging area. The second top guild had arrived — the Azure Blades, marked by deep blue capes and weapons that glowed faintly with mana. Their leader, a tall woman with ice-white hair, exchanged a brief nod with Savam.
"They're ready," she said, her voice carrying. "We open in ten."
The tension shifted instantly. Conversations cut short. Blades were unsheathed, bows strung, armor tightened.
Kel's hands clenched the straps of his pack. Ten minutes. Then I walk into that thing.
The portal pulsed again, its crimson glow deepening — almost as if it had heard him.
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