"Even the greatest hero can fall, but it's what happens afterward that defines them."
It's something my mentor always said. Back then, I didn't understand what she really meant by it. I mean, come on—I'm only 17 and kicking.
Everywhere I go, people worship me. "Oh! You're so powerful!" "No one is stronger than you!" "The savior of humanity!" "The greatest of the 10 heroes!" "The No. 1 Hero!"
– Bullshit.
They don't know the blood, sweat, and tears I've poured into this journey. "The strongest human ever known to mankind"—that title didn't come easy. And trust me, no one in the next thousand years will come close to earning it.
What about the No. 2 Hero, you ask? Heh. Not. Even. Close.
But enough about that. Back to the mission. As always, the Hero Association handed me one of their "impossible" tasks. Standard protocol for the No. 1 Hero.
I tapped my wristband, and a glowing holographic screen appeared in front of me, resembling a game quest window:
Mission Details:
Mission Rank: SS+
Task: Reclamation of [Flora Island]
Assigned Hero Name: [HOPE]
Hero Rank: 01
"[Hope] to the assist team. I'm in position, confirming target location—over." I swiped the call button and reported in.
A cold, robotic voice responded, "Assist Team Member 245, reporting. Location confirmed—your coordinates are 0°24'34'' S, 78°35'40" E on [Flora Island]. Sir HOPE, you are cleared to proceed."
"Oh, it's 245. Long time no see! How have you been?" I asked.
"Position confirmed. Current location verified. Sir HOPE, please proceed with your mission."
I smirked. "Still all business, huh? That's why you don't have any friends."
"Sir HOPE, the president is monitoring your every move."
My smile faded. Damn it. Just my rotten luck. "Understood. Proceeding now."
The wind howled across [Flora Island], carrying a mournful tune that echoed through the dense forest. The towering cliffs loomed over the raging ocean, where waves slammed against the rocks like thunderous cries. Even the air felt heavy—cold, sharp, and unnatural.
It was 7 p.m., but the sky was so dark it could've been midnight. Thunder rolled in the distance, and rain fell in relentless torrents, hammering the ground. The chill was so piercing it could freeze even the undead to its death.
Something felt wrong. It's too… quiet.
"This is the right place, yeah?" I asked.
"Affirmative," 245 replied.
I stood at the edge of a cliff, scanning the chaos before me. The mission seemed simple: reclaim the island from enemy forces. But the eerie silence gnawed at me. It was too quiet, as if the island itself was holding its breath.
"I think… this might be my last mission," I muttered.
"Did you say something, sir?"
"…No. Anyway, what am I fighting here? A [Ghoul]? A [Reaper]? Or maybe a [Fallen]?"
"It's [Wrath], sir."
My brow furrowed. Wrath? Monsters in this world came in all shapes and ranks, each with unique abilities. [Wrath] was middle-tier—a threat, sure, but nothing a triple-rank hero couldn't handle.
"You're kidding, right? Then why is this mission ranked SS+? Wait… don't tell me it's an army of [Wrath]?"
Even that didn't sit right. A single Rank–10 Hero could take care of an army of [Wrath]. Sending me, the Rank–1 Hero, to handle this was overkill.
Something was off. A trap? A test? Or something far worse?
"Permission to use [Doombringer]," I ordered.
As the words left my mouth, a weight settled on my chest. This wasn't just another mission. Something was coming, something far bigger than I had anticipated.
And for the first time in years, I wasn't sure if I was ready.
End of Chapter.