I don't remember yesterday.
No one does.
There are no childhoods, no ancestors, no history books to tell us where we came from. Humanity exists only in the present.
The only certainty we have is the Thresholds of Judgment—vast, swirling fractures in reality that tear open without warning, releasing monstrosities beyond reason. Towering horrors of bone and shadow, crawling abominations with twisted limbs, and worst of all—the S-Ranked Demon Kings and Queens.
They do not come to conquer.
They do not come to rule.
They come to purge.
To erase us.
Some say it is punishment. Others say it is a test. The truth is, no one knows.
But we do know this: God has given us a chance to fight back.
This is where faith comes in.
Faith is not belief.
It is power. A force that only a chosen few can wield.
It manifests in different forms—some call forth divine fire to burn their enemies, others summon holy barriers that shield entire cities. Some even see glimpses of the future, foretelling which Threshold will open next.
Those blessed with this power are known as Judicators—humanity's last line of defense against annihilation.
But Faith does not come freely.
No one is born with it. No one inherits it. It must be earned.
Every potential Judicator must stand before the Altar of Awakening.
A relic of unknown origin buried deep within the Sanctum of Judgment, where a mystical light will either bestow power—or erase those deemed unworthy.
And the Awakening is not just about Faith.
Every Judicator must synchronize with a beast.
This bond determines their strength.
Some sync with apex predators—lions, eagles, cobras, or direwolves—gaining physical prowess that makes them lethal on the battlefield. Others sync with stranger creatures—octopuses, horned lizards, mimic beetles—gaining deceptive or unexpected powers.
The trait they inherit depends on the beast.
A cheetah grants speed.
A rhino beetle grants unbreakable durability.
A falcon grants hyper-precise vision.
Every Judicator is forged by this process—the merging of Faith and Beast, the fusion of divine power and nature's raw instinct.
This is the law.
This is how warriors are made.
And today, it is my turn to step forward.
-Beast Synthesis-
A lone figure strode down the empty streets.
Amari Elian.
Eighteen years old. 5'11", light brown skin, silver-black short hair, an angular face, and heterochromatic eyes—one red, one white. He dressed simply: a white shirt, black jacket, blue jeans, and white tennis shoes.
Despite the occasion, he walked at an unhurried pace, hands tucked into his jacket pockets.
"Glad I woke up earlier than expected." he muttered, glancing around the barren city streets.
The occasional pedestrian shuffled by, wrapped in heavy coats despite the mild temperature. It wasn't cold—but the world itself always felt… still.
His gaze flickered to the towering banners hanging from streetlights, each one marked with the golden insignia of the Judicators—a circle split in half, one side divine light, the other pure darkness.
Below the insignia were words carved in old script:
"Only the Faithful Will Stand."
His lips curled slightly. Dramatic as hell.
Above the inscription, a moving hologram displayed past Awakenings—glorious scenes of Judicators syncing with their beasts.
A girl standing before the Altar, wings of white fire erupting behind her as a phoenix took shape beside her.
A boy, his veins glowing with molten silver, as a colossal serpent coiled behind him, its fangs bared.
A man, shrouded in crimson energy, as a massive shadow of a bear formed over him, his fists cracking the air itself.
The bonding of man and beast.
Amari exhaled, shifting his focus back to the map on his phone.
"The bus should be straight ahead, shouldn't it? At least, that's what this map says…"
He glanced at it for maybe the fourth time, confirming the location.
It was the right place.
Hopefully.
Otherwise, he'd be hella pissed.
"Yo!!"
Amari turned at the voice, raising an eyebrow.
A silver-haired, blue-eyed guy sprinted toward him, panting slightly. He wore a blue shirt matching his eyes, a white fur coat, brown pants, and black dress shoes—an odd mix of casual and formal.
The guy skidded to a halt in front of him.
"This the place where the bus to the Altar is?"
Amari nodded. "Yeah. You must've woke up late or something?"
"Hell yeah! I stayed up late 'cause I was too hyped to find out what my Faith power would be." The guy let out a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his head. "Didn't even realize I passed out."
Amari smirked. "At least you made it on time. Name's Amari Elian. What's yours?"
The silver-haired guy grinned.
"Lior Zorvian." He extended a hand.
Amari grasped it, giving a firm shake.
"Not a bad name."
"Likewise, Amari."
Just then, the distant rumble of an engine broke the morning silence.
A bus rolled up, its blackened windows reflecting the rising sun.
"It's about damn time." Lior muttered, turning toward it.
"Took long enough." Amari added as the doors hissed open.
Inside, a straight-faced driver sat motionless. His hollow eyes flicked between the two before he spoke in a low, gravelly tone.
"Going to the Altar of Awakening, right?"
Both nodded.
"Hop in. Shouldn't be long."
As they stepped inside, Amari immediately noticed one other passenger.
She sat alone in the front row, exuding an air of quiet elegance.
A mysterious gothic beauty.
Her raven-black hair, streaked with deep violet highlights, cascaded around porcelain-pale skin. Her silver eyes gleamed with a strange, almost ethereal glow.
She wore an intricately embroidered black lace gown, adorned with silver chains and dark gemstones, her presence both haunting and regal.
Lior was immediately hypnotized.
"Well, hey th—"
"Fuck off."
Her immediate response was flat, cold, absolute.
Lior froze mid-sentence.
"Understood. Have a great day." He turned and continued walking, his tone eerily polite.
Amari inwardly chuckled, glancing toward the girl.
She met his gaze.
For a brief second, her expression shifted—a subtle flicker of curiosity.
He simply nodded, keeping his reaction neutral, then followed Lior to an open seat.
The bus hummed forward.
Lior slumped in his seat, looking slightly wounded.
"All I said was 'hey'…."
"Yeah, I saw." Amari patted his shoulder. "Sometimes it's best to just nod and keep it pushing. Adds a mysterious effect."
"Noted for next time." Lior sighed. Then his expression brightened. "So—what kind of beast do you think you'll sync with?"
Amari leaned back, thoughtful. "Hopefully something powerful and badass.."
Lior grinned. "Just don't end up with a damn pigeon."
They both chuckled.
Then, the bus driver's voice cut through their conversation.
"We're here."
Outside, the Sanctum of Judgment loomed.
Where man and beast became one.
And where Amari's fate would be decided.