Apocalypse(1)

--- ???'s POV ---

The notion that "History is always written by the winners" holds undeniable truth.

Glancing at these individuals and witnessing how they have shaped this world into a realm adorned with flowers and rainbows only reinforces this belief.

Bell Cranel, the supposed protagonist of this tale, perpetually finds himself at the center of it all.

He is lavished with the adoration of countless women, empowered to conquer monsters beneath his very feet, and deludes himself into believing that harmonious coexistence between Xenos and humankind is attainable.

The allure of such notions is utterly incomprehensible to me.

I cannot help but scoff.

How did this medley of fallacies manage to captivate the hearts of so many Special Ones?

Such is the twisted strategy of the Ancients. They bask in the adoration of the masses, accumulating believers and power with each passing day, while we are treated as nothing more than discarded refuse.

It is this very essence that distinguishes the "Special Ones" from the rest, for their unwavering belief holds the key to immense power—a power that even the Ancients themselves covet.

Their abilities, though impressive within the confines of this world's limited boundaries, pale in comparison to the true power that lies beyond.

Did they truly believe that achieving levels 6 or 7 would suffice? How laughable.

Mere mortals, trapped within their own grand delusions.

Furthermore, these "Special Ones" remain oblivious to the grand narrative meticulously crafted by the Ancients.

As they emerged triumphant, seizing control of the "Danmachi" world, they manipulated the tale to align with their own desires, obliterating any mention of our faction and burying our existence deep within the annals of history.

Yet, we, the Forgotten Ones, yearn for a way to infiltrate this realm without alerting the watchful gaze of the Ancients.

We crave our own presence in this twisted chronicle, where our influence will be felt and our true power shall be unleashed upon their feeble world.

In the grand scheme of things, the belief of mere mortals is inconsequential to our cause. We have chosen a far better path, feasting upon souls to fuel our ascent. It offers far greater power than the fleeting nature of belief alone, though it is not without its limitations.

Moreover, fate seemed to twist in our favor.

Serendipitously, I stumbled upon an anomaly not far from my location. Upon discovering its true nature, a malicious grin adorned my face.

Someone had opened a portal, breaching the barriers into the world of Danmachi.

The technique employed was masterful, almost imperceptible in its execution. Even Ancient Gods would overlook it, but I possessed a heightened sensitivity to mana-related phenomena.

As I gazed upon the writhing darkness of my own energy, anticipation surged within me.

Weeks of meticulous planning had brought me to this pivotal moment—to devour this World's hope.

[Let the feast commence from the very core of this World...]

And so, with a declaration that echoed across the fabric of space itself, I defied the distortion that sought to expel me.

Within the grasp of my hand rested an exquisitely carved jade artifact, its mere presence casting an enchanting tranquility over the tumultuous scene, soothing the agitated space and swiftly restoring harmony.

For what amusement could there be without the presence of the main character on this grand stage?

[Hearken to my summons, creatures of the Dungeon, for I hold the key to the power you so desperately yearn for. Follow my lead, and your path shall be drenched in the very essence you crave...]

My words reverberated through the collective consciousness of the mindless beings lurking within the depths of the Dungeon.

With their allegiance secured, the consumption of souls will be an effortless endeavor.

The inhabitants of this world will soon taste the bitter essence of terror, for I am Malachi, the Fallen One who wields dominion over Desolation.

I grinned. Even the feeble attempts of entities like Freya to oppose me shall prove futile.

--- Ren's POV ---

As the situation spiraled out of my control, a sense of heightened vigilance washed over me, my grip on my whip tightening.

While I may have exuded an air of arrogance thus far, I was not naive enough to assume superiority over every possible being alive in this world, so I chose to wield my weapon.

What if, against all odds, a force even more formidable than myself emerged within this world?

...Damn, it seems I may have inadvertently jinxed it.

The abnormality of the situation was palpable. Locking eyes with an Orc, its fierce gaze revealed a latent power that sent tremors coursing through my body.

No, there was no chance that tranquility would persist unchallenged, was there?

...I silenced my thoughts, pushing aside conjectures and embracing a heightened state of readiness.

With a swift and masterful flick, my whip slithered through the air like a serpentine harbinger of pain.

Its sinuous form was twisted and contorted in a seamless motion as it lashed out, its supple leather tip finding its mark with unerring accuracy.

The Orc caught off guard and defenseless, recoiled as the cruel sting of my weapon pierced its flesh, seeking out vital organs.

But my satisfaction was short-lived as I witnessed a shocking sight. The Orc, despite the severity of its wound, remained defiant, seemingly impervious to the agony surging through its body. Its eyes gleamed with an unsettling resolve, undeterred by the threat of death.

The very fabric of reality seemed to contort around it, mocking the natural order of things.

A chill coursed down my spine.

Yet, I refused to be shaken by this. Instead, I steeled myself for the impending clash, my whip coiling back into position, poised to unleash a relentless barrage of punishing strikes to test how far this apparent immortality could go on. This battle was far from over.

"They won't die against normal attacks!" I exclaimed, a mixture of frustration and alarm coloring my voice.

I turned to Lucy, urging her to swiftly analyze this menacing monster, we needed to uncover its terrifying nature.

Something was amiss, something that distorted our perception and granted these creatures an unnerving resilience. Although its influence had minimal effect on me, I couldn't allow such a threat to persist.

But even as I grappled with this revelation, I witnessed the horrifying reality unfolding before my eyes.

Limbs were ripped apart, and the air filled with the sickening sound of flesh being munched on. The weaker adventurers had become prey, their screams of agony echoing through the chaos.

In the midst of this carnage, my focus halted.

In my vision, Ais valiantly clashed against a Battle Boar, her swift strikes repeatedly felling the beast.

Yet, each time it was struck down, it rose again with unyielding determination. Closing the distance with surprising speed, the Boar's claw managed to graze Ais's arm before meeting its ultimate demise, its head severed from its body.

The sight of blood being shed sent a surge of primal fury coursing through my veins. I no longer spared a glance for the pitiful excuse of an Orc that stood before me.

In a burst of uncontrollable rage, I cleaved it in two before it could take another step, its pitiful existence snuffed out in an instant.

Anguish and frustration threatened to consume me, but I fought to regain control, desperate breaths filling my lungs as I willed myself to rationality...

Nonetheless, a gnawing sense of futility crept over me, tainting every action I had taken in the past weeks. It felt as though the world itself conspired to mock our pursuit of a peaceful resolution, rendering our efforts nothing more than a cruel jest.

With a ferocity unmatched, every surrounding monster met the same merciless fate, their bodies sliced in twain before a single soul could comprehend anything. No enemy could escape my wrath.

To the perpetrator behind this despicable act, I pray they relish in their pitiful existence, deluding themselves with the illusion of an effortless triumph.

How exquisite it will be to subject them to torment so abominable, so utterly wretched, that their very souls yearn for the sweet release of death...

They dared to touch what was mine.

---

Author's Note:

Join the discord! Link in the synopsis of the novel! I will probably post a pic about Ren's whip(what I took inspiration from)