The alarm clock buzzed with the same grating sound that had woken him up for years. Vincent stared at the ceiling, the dim light of dawn creeping through his thin blinds. It didn't matter. He hadn't slept anyway. Sleep was a luxury he hadn't truly experienced since his early teens, ever since the nightmares began haunting him nightly. A cold sweat clung to his skin, as it always did.
He sighed, a long, drawn-out exhale, then dragged himself out of bed. Another day. Another routine. Like clockwork.
Vincent lived in a world where everything seemed to function without him. People moved past him, each seemingly absorbed in their own lives, their own struggles, while he drifted through like a ghost. At 25, he had no significant accomplishments to speak of. His job as an office worker at a generic tech company paid the bills and kept him fed, but nothing beyond that. He wasn't rich, wasn't poor—just existing in a gray space where life continued but didn't seem to go anywhere.
His family, if they could be called that, were as distant as ever. A cold household devoid of warmth or comfort had shaped him. They never truly understood him, and he never expected them to. Over time, they stopped caring, or at least they pretended well enough. The less interaction he had with them, the better.
Vincent glanced at the mirror. He looked tired, even more than usual, his brown eyes dull under dark rings. A quick shower and a brush through his messy hair, and he was out the door, headed for work.
The city was as bustling as ever. Since the world had changed a few months ago, people seemed more alive—at least, those who enjoyed playing games. Gates and dungeons had opened, pulling the very fabric of reality into something out of a fantasy video game. Monsters roamed within the gates, treasures awaited those daring enough to seek them, and people began to "awaken" with special abilities. For most, it was a terrifying development at first. But humans were adaptable. Within weeks, it had become just another part of life. Some people had taken to dungeon raiding as if they'd been preparing for it their entire lives.
Vincent wasn't one of them.
Though he had awakened, something that should have been life-changing, he didn't bother to take a test to confirm it. His skill, whatever it was, didn't seem important. He wasn't cut out for the spotlight, for grand adventures. He just wanted to live his life quietly. So he buried the knowledge deep inside, keeping it even from the government's registry. For him, there was no need to become a part of that world.
But the world didn't care what he wanted. As he stepped into the crowded office lobby, he noticed a group of people whispering excitedly by the elevator. News of another powerful S-rank had just been announced—a rising star in the dungeon raiding community.
"Have you heard about Marcus?" one coworker said to another. "He's been clearing A-rank gates solo. They're saying he might be the next S-rank."
"That's insane," the other replied. "I saw a video of him in action. He's unstoppable."
Vincent slipped past them, uninterested in the chatter. It was just background noise, the same as every other conversation these days. He'd heard it a hundred times before, always about someone stronger, faster, more heroic than the last. It was a world that seemed to celebrate strength above all else.
He punched in, sat down at his cubicle, and began working. Numbers. Data. Reports. It was all so mundane, yet it was a task he could lose himself in. His mind clicked into place like a machine, processing tasks without emotional input. It was a small reprieve from his otherwise noisy thoughts.
Until it wasn't.
"Vincent," a voice broke through his focus. It was his boss, a middle-aged man with thinning hair and the constant look of stress etched on his face. "Can I see you in my office?"
Vincent nodded and followed without a word. Once inside, his boss gestured for him to sit.
"We've been having some issues with the new security protocols in the system," he began. "Some errors that... well, it's hard to pinpoint. You're good at handling these sorts of things, so I'm assigning you to it."
Vincent stared at him blankly. "Sure."
"Great," his boss smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I know it's a bit of extra work, but I trust you to get it done."
Vincent nodded again.
The world had changed months ago, but for him, nothing really had. Gates, monsters, awakeners—it all felt distant, like something happening in a game he wasn't playing. He was an awakened himself, but he'd kept it to himself. C-rank, he'd been told. Nothing special. Nothing worth changing his life over.
He turned back to his screen, tuning the chatter out once more.
The walk home after work was quiet, just how Vincent liked it. He often took a detour through the park, where the air was fresher, the trees offered some peace, and the noise of the city faded to a dull hum. It was the only part of his day that felt remotely calm.
As he cut across the park, something shifted. The temperature dropped slightly, and the sky seemed to ripple. Vincent stopped walking. There, above him, a tear in the sky began to form. A gate.
Figures began to emerge—hulking, misshapen creatures, dripping with malice. Their footsteps were heavy, shaking the ground with every step. People nearby screamed, dropping everything and sprinting for safety. Vincent didn't move.
A monster's gaze locked onto him. It let out a guttural roar, charging toward him with terrifying speed. Vincent's body moved on its own. He sidestepped at the last second, a movement so fluid it was like the creature had missed him by accident. He grabbed a metal pipe from the ground—someone had dropped it while fleeing. Without hesitation, he swung.
The creature fell. Another leaped at him, claws outstretched. Vincent ducked, then drove the pipe into its gut, knocking it to the ground. A third monster, larger than the others, rushed him from the side. Vincent dropped the pipe, spun behind the beast, and used its momentum against it, slamming it into the nearby lamppost.
It was over in moments. The monsters lay crumpled around him, the park eerily quiet.
Vincent stood there for a second, catching his breath, though his heart wasn't racing. It wasn't fear he felt. Just... nothing.
Behind him, a few stragglers who hadn't made it out watched in stunned silence. One of them pulled out a phone, probably recording. Vincent didn't acknowledge them. He dropped the pipe, shoved his hands in his pockets, and continued his walk home as if nothing had happened.