chapter 1: Dawn of New Era Eschaton Simulation

Born poor in the countryside, Cabal struggle almost all of his entire life fighting underground trying to earn a living.

He hated why his life is not like those rich people in the city. They are always enjoying and living a carefree life while he had to fight for his life everyday just to eat.

"God clearly hated me." Cabal sigh as he stepped inside the ring once again.

"Place your bets already! this is a an exciting fight between Cabal and Ran." An audience said while waving his money.

"It's Cabal and Ran! they're the top dogs of fighting in the underground world. Finally we will witness who is more superior between the two of them."

Cabal is shaking while he stretches his arms and legs readying himself to fight.

"Shit, it's finally Ran this time. I guess I have no choice but to face him."

"Cabal do you really want to do this? Are you not afraid that you might actually die this time?" Ran is grinning as he taunted Cabal.

"Shut up Ran! I'm gonna bust your ass and make you my bitch tonight!"

"Let's see if you can."

The announcer step in and introduced the two fighter.

"Fighting here on my right side, wearing a red tattered shorts and holding an underground record of 303 wins 5 losses. "The Struggler Cabal".

"On my left side he is known as one of the Greatest Figther in this century holding an underground record 99 wins all by knockout and 0 losses.

"Ran The GOAT!!!"

Almost everybody on this fight bet on Ran as he is the favorable winner on this fight. The odds are 1/10 in favor of Ran.

Although they betted on Ran nobody is sure he will because he still hasn't fought someone like Cabal who has never been knockout in his entire career.

"Both fighters listen as you already the rules are there is no rules! Now fight."

The bell rang after the announcer finish.

Ting!

Everyone knows this is not an easy fight but they believe on the knockout power of the GOAT.

Cabal is the first to approach, although he is by no means small standing at 6'3 feet tall Ran is a different kind of monster.

He is bulky and standing 7'0 feet a literal giant. The difference between their weight, height and reach is clear as daylight.

Cabal doesn't want to get hit by the bare knuckles punches of Ran as he immediately dashes forward and went straight for the kill.

Ran throw a lightning speed punch, that's not a speed regular for a 7 footer.

Swoosh!

But Cabal evaded it easily and then counter attack by throwing an uppercut straight into the balls of Ran."

"Argh!!!...

Ran groaned in pain, stumbling backward from the unexpected low blow. The crowd erupted in mixed reactions—some cheered at Cabal's audacity while others booed, knowing that in this underground arena, there were no rules, but honor still mattered to some.

"That's dirty, Cabal!" someone from the audience shouted, but Cabal didn't care. In his world, there was no room for fairness—only survival.

Ran, recovering from the blow, straightened up with a scowl on his face. His muscles tensed as he realized Cabal wasn't going to play it clean. He had expected a brawl, but this was going to be an all-out war. He rubbed his abdomen, trying to shake off the pain, and locked his cold eyes on Cabal.

"Is that all you've got, Cabal?" Ran growled, his voice thick with menace. "You're going to need more than cheap shots to take me down."

Cabal didn't respond with words. His life had been nothing but a long fight—against poverty, against unfairness, against a fate that seemed determined to crush him. His fists were his only language, and tonight, they would do all the talking.

He circled Ran, keeping light on his feet, trying to avoid giving the giant any opportunity to land a hit. He knew that one punch from Ran could end this fight in an instant. Cabal darted in and out, feinting low and striking high, looking for any opening.

Ran charged forward, his fists like battering rams as he swung with raw power. Cabal ducked and weaved, slipping under the blows with a speed that belied his size. He danced around Ran, throwing jabs into the bigger man's ribs and sides, each punch aimed to wear him down.

But Ran was relentless. Despite his size, his speed was monstrous, and he quickly adjusted to Cabal's evasiveness. In a flash, Ran caught Cabal mid-step with a brutal hook to the ribs.

*Crack!*

The crowd winced as Cabal staggered back, the breath knocked out of him. He felt the sharp pain searing through his side. He could barely stand, but he forced himself to stay on his feet.

"Still standing?" Ran sneered, his voice thick with disdain. "I'll end this quick."

Ran charged again, this time with the intent to finish the fight. He swung a crushing right hook aimed at Cabal's head, a knockout punch that had ended so many fights before.

But Cabal, even in his battered state, saw it coming. With the last of his energy, he ducked low and slipped behind Ran, delivering a powerful elbow strike to the back of his knee.

*Thud!*

Ran's leg buckled, and for the first time in his underground career, the giant was brought to one knee.

The crowd went silent. No one had ever managed to bring down Ran like this before.

Cabal wiped the blood from his mouth, his eyes filled with defiance. "I'm not done yet."

With a roar, he launched himself at Ran, raining down blows on the giant's head and shoulders. Each punch was fueled by years of anger, frustration, and the relentless will to survive.

Ran tried to push Cabal off, but the damage had been done. His body was weakening under the relentless assault.

Cabal, barely standing himself, knew he had to finish this now. He stepped back, gathered his remaining strength, and threw a devastating knee straight into Ran's jaw.

*Crack!*

Ran's body slumped to the ground, unconscious.

The arena fell into stunned silence. Cabal stood over his fallen opponent, chest heaving, blood dripping from his lips, victorious against the odds.

The announcer, stunned, walked back into the ring and raised Cabal's hand. "The winner—Cabal!"

The crowd erupted in disbelief, but Cabal didn't care. He wasn't here for their cheers or their approval. He was here to survive, and tonight, he had won.

But as he looked down at Ran, something gnawed at him. This victory wasn't enough. It never was. And it never would be until he could tear himself out of this wretched life for good.

Cabal turned and walked out of the ring, disappearing into the shadows, knowing that tomorrow, the fight would continue.

As Cabal limped toward the underground exit, the echoes of the roaring crowd fading behind him, his mind was already drifting elsewhere. His body ached, every muscle protesting the punishment he'd endured, but the pain was familiar—it was just another reminder of the life he couldn't escape. The blood-stained concrete walls around him reflected the grim reality of his existence: survival, nothing more.

Outside, the night was cold and unforgiving, much like the world he lived in. Cabal pulled the hood of his torn jacket over his head and stepped into the alleyway. His fight winnings, a pitiful stack of dirty bills, barely enough to scrape by, felt like an insult. It wasn't enough to change anything—just enough to keep him trapped in this cycle.

Suddenly, a voice called out from the shadows, breaking his train of thought.

"You fight like a man who's got nothing to lose."

Cabal paused, his instincts sharpening. He looked around, his eyes narrowing as a figure stepped out from the darkness. A tall man in a long coat, his face obscured by the low brim of his hat, stood before him. His presence was strange—calm, calculating, not like the usual lowlifes that stalked these alleys.

"What do you want?" Cabal growled, not in the mood for more trouble tonight.

The man chuckled, his voice smooth and commanding. "Relax. I'm not here to fight. I've been watching you, Cabal. You're different. You don't belong down here with the rest of these rats."

Cabal sneered, his fists instinctively tightening. "Watching me? You some kind of creep?"

The man ignored the insult, stepping closer. "I'm here to offer you something—a chance to get out of this pit. For good."

Cabal laughed, bitterly. "Yeah? And what's that? Another fight? More money I can't use? Get lost."

But the man wasn't deterred. "Not money. Freedom. Power. A new beginning."

Cabal stopped laughing. There was something about the way this man spoke, a confidence that didn't come from idle promises. "What are you talking about?"

The man reached into his coat and pulled out a sleek, black tablet. Its surface glowed faintly as he activated it, displaying strange symbols and codes Cabal had never seen before.

"This world you know? It's about to change. The world as you've lived in—it's all a simulation, a test. And soon, it's going to reset."

Cabal frowned, unsure whether to believe him or walk away. "Simulation? Reset? What kind of conspiracy theory garbage is this?"

The man smirked. "I'm offering you a chance to be part of the new era. A chance to rise above the simulation. You've got potential, Cabal. But down here, you're wasting it. Come with me, and I'll show you what real power is."

Cabal didn't trust the man—everything about this felt off. But at the same time, what did he have to lose? He'd spent his whole life fighting for nothing, with no end in sight. If this man was telling the truth, even a little bit, it was more than he'd ever been offered before.

"What's the catch?" Cabal asked, suspicion heavy in his voice.

The man's smile widened. "No catch. Just a choice. Come with me, and leave this old world behind. Or stay here, and keep fighting in the dirt for scraps."

Cabal's mind raced. This was insane. But then again, so was his life. He'd survived every fight so far—maybe this was just another one. A bigger one.

"Alright," Cabal finally said, his voice steady. "I'll bite. Show me."

The man nodded, pleased. "Good choice." He tapped something on the tablet, and within seconds, a blinding light enveloped them both. Cabal felt his body being pulled in every direction at once, like the very fabric of reality was unraveling around him.

When the light faded, Cabal found himself standing in a completely different place. No more dingy alleyways or cracked concrete. Instead, he stood on a vast platform suspended in an infinite void, surrounded by towering structures of gleaming metal and light. The air buzzed with a strange energy.

"Welcome," the man said, stepping forward. "To Eschaton."

Cabal looked around, his eyes wide with awe and confusion. "What... what is this place?"

The man gestured toward the horizon, where dozens of other figures, like Cabal, were materializing. Some looked confused, others frightened, but all of them were fighters like him. Survivors.

"This is where the real game begins," the man said. "A new world. A new era. Everything you knew before—it was just the tutorial. Here, you'll either rise to the top or be wiped out. It's survival of the fittest, Cabal. And I think you've got what it takes to survive."

Cabal's heart pounded in his chest. This was real. This was happening. The world he thought he knew was gone, and now he was standing at the dawn of something far bigger than he could have imagined.

The man turned to him one last time. "The simulation resets soon. But for now, get ready. Because in this new world... there are no rules."

As the ground beneath Cabal shifted, preparing for the next stage, he clenched his fists, his eyes filled with determination. Whatever this new world was, whatever challenge it brought—he would face it head-on.

Because if there was one thing Cabal knew, it was how to survive...