Two years had passed. Jest and Ed were now twenty.
Every country had produced its own S-rank awakeners. The world agreed to unite them into a single elite team. The leader of that team was Jest — the Saint. They called him the Savior.
Guilds began to rise, each with their own goals, powers, and ambitions.
During those two years, Jest and Ed never crossed paths. The longer they were apart, the more their bond faded — from brothers to strangers.
Eventually, Ed left the home of Jest's parents and began living on his own, working as a miner. He cursed the System for not granting him at least an A or B rank. Instead, his status window was filled with question marks — no name, no rank, no stats.
He stopped opening it altogether.
He wasn't a player. He wasn't an awakener. He was just... forgotten.
"Hey, you peasant! Wake up! Break time's over — get to your station!"
The voice was harsh, filled with contempt.
Ed opened his eyes, exhausted. He dragged himself to the mining site and began working. He mined. Then mined more. Until his body gave out and he collapsed.
The mining team leader saw him lying on the ground and kicked him in the stomach — not even checking if he was okay.
After the shift ended, the workers exited through the Gate and received their pay from the guild that had hired them.
Ed took his payment and headed back to his apartment, hoping to rest.
But as he walked away from the Gate, the mining leader spotted him — and smiled.
He followed Ed into a deserted alley, where no awakeners or civilians were around. Then, like always, they beat him — nearly to death — and stole his money.
This wasn't the first time.
It happened often. So often that Ed's body had become frail, his bones more visible than his skin. He was a shadow of himself.
After the beating, they threw him into the darkest part of the street — a place no one would find him.
Time passed.
His vision blurred.
His breathing slowed.
And then... his heart stopped.