If there was one place where the fate of the world could be seen unraveling in real time, it was not a battlefield, a ruined city, or a sealed rift.
It was a chat window.
The Top 100 group chat existed as a system sanctioned channel, unlocked only after an individual reached a threshold of contribution points that placed them among the most influential defenders of humanity. In theory, it was meant to encourage cooperation, coordination, and shared intelligence.
In practice, it was chaos.
Arguments flared daily. Boasts were constant. Accusations of hoarding information were common. Alliances formed and shattered within hours. Some members treated it like a war room. Others treated it like a stage.
Yet two names stood out for their absence.
Rank 1.
Rank 4.
The silence of those two weighed heavier than any argument.
Aldwin sat alone in a quiet room overlooking the reclaimed city. The hum of mana infrastructure vibrated faintly through the walls. Outside, guards moved with practiced precision. Inside, Aldwin focused on the translucent interface floating before him.
Contribution Points: 1,000,000
The number had stopped feeling real days ago.
With it came rewards that fundamentally changed the scale of his power.
From reaching five hundred thousand points, his Gift had expanded again. From reaching one million, it expanded further.
Fifteen slots.
Fifteen past selves that could be embodied, synchronized, and wielded.
Aldwin had not filled them yet.
That was intentional.
He had learned that reckless expansion led to instability. Each embodiment required refinement, understanding, and compatibility. Mulligan and Verakul had taught him restraint the hard way.
Now, with his Gift stabilized at a terrifying scale, Aldwin finally turned his attention to something he had neglected.
The chat.
The Top 100 channel flooded his vision with messages the moment he focused on it.
Arguments scrolled past at alarming speed.
Someone was accusing another of abandoning a city. Someone else was bragging about solo clearing a gold grade rift. A heated discussion about territory boundaries in South America dominated one corner of the screen.
Aldwin scrolled upward.
Hours.
Days.
Weeks of messages.
He had not spoken once since entering the top ten.
Neither had Rank 1.
That silence had not gone unnoticed.
A system tag hovered near the top of the participant list.
Rank 1: Unknown Name
Gift: Army of My Own
Status: Online
The identity of Rank 1 was still a mystery to most of the group. He had shared nothing beyond the bare minimum. No location. No plans. No explanations. His Gift alone was enough to inspire speculation and fear.
An army that belonged solely to him.
No one knew its size.
No one knew its nature.
They only knew that entire regions had gone dark after his name appeared on the rankings.
Rank 4 sat just below.
Rank 4: Aldwin Everett
Gift: Past Life Embodiment
Status: Online
Aldwin could feel the weight of unseen attention the moment his status changed.
The chat slowed.
Messages became shorter.
Names that had been arguing moments ago stopped mid sentence.
He did not type.
He read.
Rank 2 dominated the visible conversation.
Rank 2: Brandon Ford
Gift: King's Knights
Brandon's messages were confident, direct, and clearly structured.
He was organizing.
Europe had become his domain.
Aldwin scrolled through pinned messages.
Brandon had gathered a coalition of high ranking contributors across multiple countries. Cities were being fortified under a unified command. Knight themed units operated under standardized tactics. His Gift allowed him to empower and coordinate elite subordinates with frightening efficiency.
He was not just defending Europe.
He was building a kingdom.
Further down the chat, another name appeared repeatedly.
Rank 3: Jeremiah Smith
Gift: 100% Drop Rate
Jeremiah's approach was different.
Where Brandon centralized authority, Jeremiah optimized resources. Every monster slain under his command dropped loot. Every dungeon run was profitable. Every rift became a treasure trove.
The Americas were flooded with gear, materials, and relics because of him.
He had turned the apocalypse into an economy.
Rank 5 appeared less frequently, but when he did, the chat shifted tone.
Rank 5: Yuta Hozuki
Gift: The Monarch of Snakes, Yamata no Orochi
Yuta ruled Japan openly.
He did not pretend otherwise.
His Gift manifested as a myth made flesh. A multi headed serpent of divine scale. Cities bowed not out of fear, but reverence. Shrines had been erected. Cultivation and modern technology merged under his rule.
Japan was stable.
Dangerously so.
Aldwin leaned back in his chair.
Europe had a king.
The Americas had a merchant lord.
Japan had a god king.
And then there was him.
Somewhere in between.
His city did not exist on any old world map. It was a place that had been reshaped entirely by the apocalypse. It lay between the expanding influence of Brandon and Jeremiah, yet aligned fully with neither.
He had not announced borders.
He had not declared alliances.
He had not spoken.
That uncertainty was what made people nervous.
A message popped up, highlighted by the system.
Rank 17: Anyone else notice Rank 1 and Rank 4 are online at the same time?
Another followed seconds later.
Rank 42: Yeah. This feels ominous.
Rank 8: Either the world is about to get saved or burned.
Aldwin did not react.
He continued reading.
Speculation filled the chat.
People wondered if Rank 1 and Rank 4 were coordinating privately. Others feared a coming conflict between the highest ranked individuals. Some hoped for leadership. Others prayed neither would speak at all.
A private system notification appeared.
You have unlocked additional Embodiment Capacity
Total Slots Available: 15
Mulligan's presence stirred faintly.
"They are afraid," he observed.
"They should be," Aldwin replied calmly.
Verakul's voice followed, heavy with restrained violence.
"Fear keeps them cautious. Caution keeps them alive."
Aldwin closed the notification.
The chat continued to buzz.
Someone directly tagged him.
Rank 12: Number 4... Aldwin, are you planning to coordinate territory or are we stepping on landmines by accident here?
Dozens of eyes turned toward him.
The cursor blinked.
Aldwin did not type.
Instead, he closed the chat.
Not out of disdain.
Not out of arrogance.
But because nothing needed to be said yet.
The world was still settling.
The board was still being set.
And when Aldwin finally chose to speak, it would not be through words in a chat window.
It would be through action.
Somewhere far away, Rank 1 remained silent as well.
Two monsters at the top.
Watching.
Waiting.
And the Top 100 knew, deep down, that whatever happened next would redefine the apocalypse entirely.