Ex rank talent Awakening: 100% Dodge rate

"Why now?" Greg muttered, his voice dropping to a cold, controlled whisper that felt more dangerous than if he had shouted. The chill in his tone sent a ripple of tension through the room. Everyone turned to face him, uncertain what to make of the sudden shift in his expression.

To most, Greg was always composed—calculating, even. But now, something was different. Something darker had stirred.

"To think… they actually managed to finish creating the shadow slaves despite the collapse of the Empire," Chris said, rubbing the back of his head, trying to grasp the weight of what they were hearing. His words carried a hint of disbelief, his voice uncharacteristically subdued.

Cain narrowed his eyes, studying Greg's expression. Unlike the others, he wasn't distracted by the horror of the announcement—his focus was fixed on Greg, and he didn't like what he saw. "How dangerous are these things, exactly?" he asked, crossing his arms. "You've been quiet for too long—and I don't like that look on your face. You know something the rest of us don't."

Greg slowly raised his head, and for a moment, his eyes looked like they carried the weight of the entire world. "They're dangerous enough," he said, his voice as flat as a blade. "With the current state of Apocalypse, where death is no longer just a game over screen… shadow slaves might be the single worst enemy the world has ever faced. If there are too many of them—if they spread beyond control—then this entire world might fall. And not just the virtual one. Ours too."

The room went still.

Brian's throat tightened. Despite everything—his battle with Joshua, the pain of betrayal—he hadn't expected this. "They're really that bad?" he asked, though deep down, he already knew the answer. A part of him wished this was all just a nightmare.

Greg exhaled slowly. "I pray it's not as bad as I think it is. But if Rebecca is involved…" His hands curled into fists. "Then this is going to be a nightmare on a scale no one is ready for."

Lilith flinched at the mention of that name. Her confident demeanor faltered, a shadow falling over her face. "You mean her? That nightmare is still alive?"

Greg nodded. "Yeah. She's back. And Drakonix—of all people—was terrified. The mighty god who once mocked death itself… shivered like a beaten dog."

"Hold up, hold up, hold up!" Aaron threw up his hands. "How do you know all this, Greg? You always seem to be five steps ahead of the rest of us. Does this have something to do with your—uh, you know—regression?"

Chris spun around. "Wait, Greg's a regressor?"

Cain raised a brow, mildly surprised. Brian said nothing, but his expression shifted, clearly piecing together a few things that had once confused him.

Finally, Aaron grinned. "Oh yes! Finally, someone didn't know. I'm not the only late bloomer in the room anymore. Vindication!"

Thomas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Aaron, that wasn't your story to tell. That was out of line."

Aaron shrunk slightly, scratching his head awkwardly. "Yeah… sorry, Greg."

"It's fine," Greg said, brushing it off. "I wasn't planning to keep it a secret much longer anyway. But right now, we have bigger problems."

He turned to Will, his expression growing more serious. "I need you to go back to the real world immediately. Spread a warning. Broadcast to the entire world if you have to. We need to convince as many people as possible—especially the weaker ones—not to participate in this world event. If we don't… the death toll could be catastrophic."

Will nodded, understanding the urgency. "Got it. I'll handle it."

Cain frowned. "I still don't get you, Greg. You say you're not a good guy… and yet you go out of your way to help people. Even strangers. What gives?"

Greg's eyes flickered with a strange mix of tiredness and resolve. "I'm not a good guy," he repeated. "I don't pretend to be. But that doesn't mean I'll watch as thousands of people die when I could've done something. Besides…" He hesitated. "We don't know the full rules of the World League yet. If raw numbers matter, then Earth needs as many survivors as possible."

His words hung in the air like a heavy fog. No one said anything for a while.

Then, with a flash of light, Will vanished from the room—off to deliver his message to the world.

---

Elsewhere…

Across the world, the news of a new event swept like wildfire. For many, it was a source of excitement—another chance to grow stronger, to chase glory, to rise in the chaotic new order where the strong ruled and the weak served. In the minds of the masses, it was just another opportunity.

But they were wrong.

In a realm where sunlight never reached and shadows whispered in unnatural tongues, Rebecca sat atop a throne crafted from living darkness. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. Deep cracks marred her soul—a soul too powerful to break, yet too damaged to function at full strength.

In front of her knelt Number Twenty, the shadowy servant whose voice never wavered.

"It is done, Goddess," he said, his voice solemn. "One thousand shadow slaves have been released. Their spread has already begun. As long as the world's strongest don't interfere, the plan should go smoothly."

Rebecca slowly opened her eyes, the blue glow within them pulsing faintly.

"They won't interfere," she replied, her voice layered with ancient pain and icy confidence. "Their fear of me still holds. That fear will buy us more time than they realize."

Number Twenty smiled beneath his mask. "Then there is nothing standing in our way."

"No." Rebecca's tone changed. "There is one."

Just then, Emperor Augustus stepped from the shadows, his presence heavy with pride and power. "Nemesis," he said, finishing Rebecca's thought.

Number Twenty turned toward him, confused. "Him? What's so special about him?"

"You wouldn't understand," Augustus growled. "His arrogance. His absurd growth. The fact that he beat me—me! There is danger in that boy's existence. We should destroy him now, before he rises too far."

"I agree," Number Twenty added. "Why leave a potential threat unchecked?"

But Rebecca raised her hand, silencing them both. "No. He stays alive—for now. His hatred aligns with ours. His rage toward the demon king and the celestial god can be weaponized. He might even achieve what we cannot… if we play our cards right."

"You're wrong, Goddess," Augustus said sharply. "We don't need him. We are enough. Let me strike him down before it's too late."

Rebecca's tone turned sharp, absolute. "No. That's final. If you defy me, you risk awakening my wrath."

The air froze.

Augustus bit back his pride and bowed. "Very well… as you command."

Number Twenty echoed the gesture. "Of course, Goddess."

But in their hearts, both had already made up their minds. Nemesis would die. If not now, then soon. They would strike in secret—and crush him before he became something they could no longer control.

Rebecca saw it all. She felt their hidden intentions. But she didn't stop them.

Not because she approved.

But because she was too weak to enforce her will, the crack in her soul weakening her control over her puppets greatly till they could refuse her orders.

And because in the end, she didn't need to.

If Greg couldn't defeat the likes of Augustus and Number Twenty… then he was never worth her attention in the first place.