Come back, you cowards!” The words bounced off the cold stone walls, their echo a stark reminder of my solitude. The retreating figures didn’t glance back. Alone, I was left to face the harsh reality of this place where trust was as elusive as a vein of gold.

 

The system, an omnipresent puppeteer, seemed to pull the strings. It twisted minds, manipulated monsters, and even bent the will of inanimate objects. Its sole aim appeared to be to torment me, to push me into accepting its tantalizing offer of power and glory. But I knew better. I’d watched as friends, folks I once knew like the back of my hand, morphed into strangers. Their eyes were empty, their actions, a mystery. It was like some ghostly hand was steering them, making them turn on me.

 

Every day was a battle, a struggle against the system's relentless pressure. But I held my ground, refusing to be swayed by its sly promises. I knew the cost of such power was too high.

 

I despised it... loathed its existence. Every day, every second, it pushed me to accept its twisted deal, but I stood firm, well aware of the steep price it demanded. 

 

Hash, surrounded by the snarling faces of monsters, reflected on his predicament. His mission in the SSS-class dungeon had gone awry, his comrades had deserted him, but he felt an odd sense of indifference.

 

"Did those cowards ditch me because of the system's influence?" Hash pondered, his gaze fixed on the encircling monsters. Their numbers swelled with each passing second. Panic would be the typical response, but Hash? He just chuckled. Insanity was a familiar companion at this point. Betrayals? He'd lost count.

 

"Am I the mad one, or is it the world?" He mused, his eyes scanning the hostile crowd. "Everyone's turned their back on me. The system's influence, that's my guess. And I'm sticking to it. But this time, it's personal."

 

His party, the very people who'd slaughtered his previous crew and looted their gear, had left him for dead. It was a complicated mess, but Hash pushed it aside. Survival was the only thing that mattered now.

 

"I can't tell their ranks. But they're S-rank, no doubt. This is an SSS-rank dungeon after all." He studied the towering monsters, their golem-like bodies adorned with vegetation and marred by cracks. Each one stood at least 15 feet tall. Some even bore anthropomorphic features. "Tier 3 S-class monsters. That's my guess, based on experience. And that's just the first floor," he muttered, readying his spear as a monster lunged at him. His muscles tensed, ready for the fight.

 

"If I make it out of this alive, you're next!" His battle cry echoed through the dungeon.

 

Hash’s chest heaved as he battled through the horde of monstrous creatures in the dungeon. He had been fighting for hours, with no sign of respite. His body was covered in sweat and dirt, his clothes torn and stained by the blood of his foes. Each swing of his worn-down spear was fueled by a mixture of anger and desperation, as he struggled to fend off the relentless onslaught. His vision was blurred by the constant motion, monsters emerging from the shadows to assail him from all sides. He felt like he was trapped in a nightmare, a never-ending survival wave that tested his limits.

 

Just when he thought he had become one with the chaos, a disruptive interruption pierced through Hash's consciousness, a disruptive interruption pierced through Hash’s consciousness. At first, it was a faint whisper, a distant echo that he tried to ignore. But it persisted, growing louder with each passing moment until it was impossible to disregard.

 

[Tier 3 s Class threats approaching you. You will die.]

[You have been abandoned by family and friends alike. No one will help you. Will you accept the system?]

[Will you accept?]

[Will you accept?]

 

The words flickered incessantly, digital apparitions amidst the madness of the battle. They seemed to dance on the edges of his vision, vying for his attention even amid the life-or-death struggle. The constant stream of system messages made it challenging to concentrate, their unending attacks blurring his vision like an unstoppable storm.

 

His grip on his spear and short sword tightened as frustration welled within him. "So noisy," he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice barely audible over the clamor of the monsters. His mind was a battlefield, both against the monsters and the insidious intrusion of the system.

 

He deflected a monster's attack with a swift maneuver, his heart pounding in his chest as he surveyed the chaotic scene around him. Amid the swirling chaos, his voice cut through once more. "I need to escape. I am not going to die here. Not yet."

 

With each swing and thrust of his weapons, Hash backtracked his way through the dungeon, seeking a moment of respite amidst the relentless onslaught. As he navigated through the labyrinthine passages. He saw it – an entry portal, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

 

Without a moment's hesitation, Hash leaped toward the portal. His body, fueled by a surge of determination, seemed to move on its own. But as he emerged on the other side, he found himself rooted to the spot, his eyes wide in disbelief.

 

It was as if he had stepped into a world on fire. The air was thick with scorching heat, reminiscent of a raging inferno. Draconite monsters soared above, spewing flames that painted the sky with streaks of orange and red. The heavy, foul stench of death hung in the air, a grim testament to the countless lives lost. Corpses littered the ground, their entrails spilled in a grotesque display of the relentless plague that had swept through. The battle against the monsters raged on, leaving behind a grim trail of lifeless bodies and rivers of crimson blood.

 

Those who stood their ground faced a merciless demise, their remains becoming a macabre feast for the monstrous creatures that scavenged like vultures around the city. Every monster was an S-class threat. The streets were reduced to rubble, with buildings shattered and nothing spared in their path.

 

The Abyss Dawner, an SSS-class dungeon situated in Red City on the continent, had reached its breaking point and overloaded huh! hash wondered if that was the case but the city was overrun and that could be only possible if every single dungeon in the city got overrun....

 

Everyone was fleeing for their lives through the streets of the abyss city in a futile attempt to save themselves. However, hash seemed unfazed, looking up at the sky without a worry in the world, even as he was bumped by the fleeing masses. The entire world was warping with chaos itself, and the once blue skies now turned thick red within a few hours of the dungeon break. It was as if the world welcomed the reign of something else.

 

Blood seeped from his wounds, staining the concrete floor beneath him. His vision blurred as blood from a gash on his forehead trickled into his eyes. He reached up, his hand coming away slick with his own life essence. Yet, amidst the horror, a single thought echoed in his mind as he clenched his blood-soaked hand.

 

"I was right, and they called me mad!"

 

A laugh, raw and unhinged, tore from his throat, a lone voice amidst the symphony of screams as monsters tore through the crowd. His obsidian-black hair was now a gruesome shade of red, slick with blood. His eyes, swollen and bloodshot, mirrored the carnage around him. He was losing blood fast, death was imminent, whether he fought back or not. His fate was sealed. Yet, he couldn't stop laughing. The absurdity of the situation had gripped him, making him find humor in the face of death. Stripped of power, devoid of any system's aid, he stood amidst the chaos.

 

"Where are you guys?" he shouted into the void. "The ones who boasted about their achievements! The ones who were gifted! Look at me, still standing!"

 

Hash's thoughts were a whirlwind of self-deprecation and mockery. He was weak, so weak that he could barely keep up even with the best gear one could had and would have died on the first floor of the dungeon. He laughed at himself and the others. "How ironic," he muttered, "the weakest one survives while the strong perish."

 

A laugh escaped his lips, but it was a hollow sound. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He was overwhelmed by a mix of emotions, and he no longer knew whether it was joy or pain he was experiencing. All he wanted now was to lash out at the absurdity of his situation. He didn’t care anymore.

 

Within the city's treacherous streets, unworldly beings of all shapes and sizes roamed freely. Corpses and guts littered the streets, blood everywhere. A few surviving individuals desperately sought refuge on rooftops, their hope for a savior waning as they caught sight of only a lone figure.

 

Hash's crimson eyes blazed like embers amidst the debris as he was cutting down monsters left and right. Clad in stolen silver and red armor, freshly snatched from other dead dungeon dwellers, yet with each encounter, the armor shattered into pieces. Each monster swing that missed destroyed both buildings and the ground alike. He fought the onslaught as the monster corpses piled up he gutted them like fish.

Doubtful whispers echoed among the survivors huddled on the rooftops, their voices barely audible over the chaos below. "Isn't that Hash? How is he still standing? Wasn't he the weak one, the brother of the dragon slayer?" Their hearts were heavy with guilt and fear. They had left him for dead, and yet, there he was, standing tall amidst the monstrous horde.

 

"Did he see us?" one of them muttered, his face pale with fear. They were wounded, barely escaped with their lives.

 

Suddenly, Hash's gaze met theirs. "Ahh! Found you," he called out, a smirk playing on his lips. "Here I thought I missed my last chance at revenge."

 

As Hash battled the monsters, a thought crossed his mind. He recognized the faces of the survivors. Why not pay them a visit for their betrayal? After all, it was the end of the world.

 

With a powerful leap, Hash landed on the rooftop, his entrance as grand as his resolve. He moved slowly, deliberately, luring the monsters towards him. His eyes locked onto the survivors, their expressions a mix of fear and disbelief. He knew those looks all too well. He had been on the receiving end of their scorn for far too long.

 

"Good hiding spot!" Hash remarked, his gaze sweeping over the survivors. They were all dungeon dwellers, their armor and weapons a clear giveaway. No ordinary person could wield such gear. His voice was laced with sarcasm, but also a hint of amusement.

 

"Shame the monsters found it! Hahaha!" Hash said, breaking into laughter as all the monsters started climbing the 5-story building. They had all witnessed him jumping there.

 

Hector's face contorted with fear and guilt as Hash's gaze fell upon him. Hash's eyes narrowed, memories of betrayal resurfacing. Hector stepped up to confront the situation.

 

"Look who decided to show up," Hash's voice dripped with sarcasm. "The master manipulator”

 

Hector's hands shook as he tried to find words. "Hash, it’s a—"

 

"Save your lies," Hash's tone was cold. "You thought I was weak, disposable. You wanted the armor set here right? My brother’s SSS-class loot. You just left me to die and wanted to recollect this?"

 

Other group members exchanged uneasy glances, their histories intertwined with Hash and Hector's.

 

"Did you think you could hide from me?" Hash's voice grew louder. "All those lives you ruined, all for your gain."

 

Tears welled up in Hector’s eyes. “I’m sorry. we can sort this out. The monsters are climbing… we will di—”

 

Hash’s laughter cut him off, a bitter sound that echoed through the wreckage. “You dare make excuses?” His voice was cold, his eyes filled with contempt.

 

Without warning, Hash lunged at Hector. His fist hardened from countless battles, connected with Hector’s jaw with a sickening crunch. Hector staggered back, a hand flying to his mouth. A sharp gasp escaped his lips as he pulled his hand away to find it stained with blood. A few of his teeth, knocked loose by the force of Hash’s punch, fell to the ground.

 

Hash swiftly silenced the hectors obnoxious scream by deep-fisting his open mouth, smirking as he prevented him from speaking. The drooling mug and his uneasiness were amusing to Hash as he clenched the man's throat with his left hand, squeezing the life out of him as he struggled to make Hash let him go. His efforts were futile as he struggled to make Hash Grip lose.

 

“Shhhh.” The word slipped from Hash’s lips, his voice barely a whisper, but it cut through the air like a knife. His eyes, cold and unyielding, sent a shiver of fear through everyone on the rooftop. The bloodlust radiating from him was palpable, silencing their murmurs instantly. They were all wounded, in no condition to fight, yet the sight of Hash, alive and standing, struck terror in their hearts. The sight of his right skull, visibly broken and missing a chunk, added an eerie sense of dread.

 

Hash’s gaze landed on Hector, his voice heavy with accusation and bitterness. “You always had a knack for staying one step ahead, Hector. A puppet master when the going got tough,” he said, his words laced with scorn. His eyes locked with Hector’s, a silent challenge hanging in the air. The group behind him exchanged uneasy glances. They outnumbered him, and they thought they had no reason to fear someone as wounded as they were. But they were wrong. Hash was not just wounded. He was broken, pushed to the brink of insanity. And that made him unpredictable, and far more dangerous.

 

Even now, they have the gall to look me in the eyes after leaving my friends to fend for themself in the dungeons.

 

 He was furious and his anger boiled his blood to no end.

 

 

"Hector!" Hash's voice cut through the silence, his words dripping with disdain. The drool on his clenched fist was starting to irritate him. The sight of Hector's twitching eyes, wide with fear, brought a twisted sense of joy to Hash. He had always been at a disadvantage, but now, the tables had turned.

 

"Do you fear death, Hector?" Hash's voice was a low growl. "I don't think you do. You've killed innocents, framed countless people. I wonder what they would think of this moment." A cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Let's send you off with Hash's express delivery."

 

Hector's pleas for mercy filled the air, his howls echoing off the ruined city buildings. But Hash was unmoved. The time for mercy had long passed.

Everyone lunged at Hash, but he reacted with lightning speed. He clenched Hector’s jaw, his fingers digging into the flesh, ripping it open to get a firm grip. With a swift motion, he hurled Hector off the rooftop like a pitcher throwing a perfect strike.

 

“Check on them in hell, and don’t forget to give a 5-star rating!” Hash’s voice echoed through the air, filled with a chilling mirth.

 

Hector’s screams were drowned out by Hash’s maniacal laughter as he was swallowed by the sea of monsters surrounding the building. As Hector was torn apart, Hash turned his attention to the rest. Despite the chaos, he was the least injured among them. Half of them were on their last breaths, their bodies maimed and dismembered. It was all for revenge.

 

Hash was done with everything. The world had stopped making sense to him, so why should he care? His laughter echoed through the deserted city streets, a haunting testament to his descent into madness. The world was on the brink of collapse, and all he could do was laugh. It was a chilling sound, a raw display of emotion that sent shivers down the spines of those who heard it.

 

"People said revenge was sweet... it was, for a moment," Hash muttered, his gaze fixed on the blood-red sky. He yearned for an escape, for a respite from the screams echoing around him. But he didn't flinch. He was no hero, and he never would be.

 

He darted from one building to another, desperate to find an end to this madness, to escape the ominous red sky. But all he found was more chaos. Exhausted, he finally stopped, settling on a rooftop.

 

Deep down, Hash knew the truth. The system was alien, not of this world. And he rejected it, then and now. A throbbing headache pulsed through his skull as the almighty system's pop-up screen appeared before him.

 

[You are the last entity in this dimension to not have the system. Would you like to have one?]

[Would you like to have one?]

[Would you like to have one?]

[Would you like to have one?]

[Would you like to have one?]

 

[This world will be in ruins. Would you not become the hero?]

[What about going back in time and doing it again?]

 

[Will you accept?]

[Will you accept?]

[Will you accept?]

[Will you accept?]

[Will you accept?]

[Will you accept?]

The system filled his vision, its relentless queries echoing endlessly in his mind. It was a psychic assault he had grown accustomed to over the past decade, ever since the day everything changed. The day the first dungeon appeared, and the system planted its seeds into this world. Hash coughed up blood as his visions grew hazier, his sanity teetering on the edge.

 

As the monsters scaled the building, they approached Hash with an eerie calmness. They encircled him, their voices echoing the system's torment. The cacophony was unbearable. A thought tried to form in his head, but it was quickly drowned out by a haunting vision of his brother and friends, lost forever in this nightmarish reality.

 

The atmosphere grew thicker, suffocating Hash's senses. The monsters' twisted faces grinned maniacally, their eyes boring into his soul. Each moment felt like an eternity, and Hash felt himself slipping deeper into the abyss of despair.

 

"You think I don’t know your schemes!” Hash screamed, his aura swirling around him, causing the nearest monster to sway from the wind pressure. "It’s funny, you think I’m stupid?" Hash's voice echoed through the deserted city streets, a chilling testament to his defiance.

 

 

“I don’t have anything to lose or gain here…” Hash’s voice trailed off, his words heavy with resignation. His mind drifted back to the people he once knew, the ones who had changed with time. His brother, once caring and protective, and his friends, once loyal and steadfast, were now unrecognizable. Something had taken hold of them, twisting their personalities until they were mere shadows of their former selves.

 

Hash knew the world was shifting, events that once held significance were fading away from reality. Religions were reshaped, and the world changed beyond recognition. The system had infiltrated not just the world, but his thoughts as well. It was a silent invader, creeping into his mind, reshaping his reality.

 

But amidst the chaos and confusion, one thing was clear to Hash - he had made up his mind. He had no regrets. He had lost everything, yet he refused to give this thing, this system, the satisfaction of victory. His voice, when he spoke next, was filled with a quiet determination, a silent vow to himself and the world. “I won’t let this thing win. Not today, not ever.”

 

[Will you die in vain? Mother Fucker, will you accept this?]

[Will you not accept the offer of unlimited power? What are you fighting for?]

 [You don’t have anything to protect now right?]

 [What’s the point of all this? You can change it with my power]

 [Will you accept?]

 [ACCEEEEEPTTTT]

[ACCEEEEEPTTTT]

[ACCEEEPPTTT] The system pop-up glitched uncontrollably.

 

The relentless barrage of system messages, promising unlimited power, only stoked the fires of Hash’s determination. His mind was a battlefield, yet he clung to his sanity.

 

“My mind… my thoughts… they’re slipping,” Hash muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

 

With the last vestiges of his energy, Hash focused on his heart, triggering an explosion within him that made him vomit blood. His eyes convulsed, and a burst of twisted laughter escaped his lips. “Would having power change all this?” he wondered aloud.

 

“Well, who knows?” Hash’s final words hung in the air, his last breath leaving his body.

 

With Hash’s death, reality quaked as if a calm pond had been disturbed by a violent ripple. The world turned monochromatic, stripped of colors as if they had never existed.

 

Hash’s death marked a grim ending, leaving behind a world that seemed devoid of hope. The distorted reality added to the unsettling atmosphere, hinting at a deeper disturbance within the fabric of existence. A new, distorted voice echoed, further warping everything it touched.

 

"Ho! Ho! A reality that even the almighty system couldn't conquer. isn't this a surprise " declared a mysterious voice as a shimmering portal materialized near Hash. From within the pitch-black void, a figure of black and white swirling energy emerged, its presence sending tremors through the fabric of reality itself. The space around Hash's lifeless body twisted and distorted under the influence of this enigmatic being's power, and his corpse became enveloped in the same swirling energy.

 

Hash opened his eyes as if he had been brought back to life.

 

"Who are you?" Hash's voice quivered, his wariness evident. "Why do the gods care about this world?"

 

Adriel's eyes, a swirling blend of light and shadow, fixed on Hash. "We are the balance to the system's dominance. Your struggle against it has drawn our attention."

 

 

Hash's gaze hardened. "So you're offering me a chance to fight back?"

Adriel's lips curled into an enigmatic smile. "More than that. We offer you a choice: a path to rewrite history, to reshape the very fabric of reality."

 

Hash's fists clenched, his determination resurfacing. "And what do you want in return?"

 

Adriel's laughter echoed through the void. "Your will to resist. Your defiance against the oppressive current of the system."

 

Bullshit. They are the same. The world was free from gods or systems... They just want a piece of the pie

 

[How dare you enter my domain?]

 

A pop-up message from the almighty system replaced the skies and the world itself.

 

[Adriel, the massager of gods. This is my domain and it is under my complete conquest!]

 

Suddenly, the skies and the world itself were replaced by a pop-up message from the almighty system. Reality seemed to fade away as the message grew in size, consuming everything like the expanding universe. The void that was once a universe echoed with the resounding voice of the system, displaying its unfathomable power.

 

"Yet, this human remains untainted," Adriel said, pointing at Hash.

 

“The agreement was clear: an entire dimension must be utterly devoured by your relentless invasion. We pledged not to intervene unless a being resisted your insidious corruption. And yet, against all odds, this thing stands," Adriel proclaimed.

 

"Having stated our intentions, we shall now battle for dominance and influence over this dimension. Should you oppose this course of action, what does that suggest?"

 

"War?" Adriel's voice echoed as the void trembled with distortions.

 

[You've made your point. Proceed.]

 

A pair of scales materialized, and Hans's body hovered between the scales as if he were the center of it.

 

"We claim this human as our anchor. This dimension will be remade with both of our influences from the very beginning of civilization and a mishmash of all of the sentient species. Hash, as our representative, has the right to spread our influence and demand one wish within the setting in fairness," Adriel declared.

 

With those words, Hash opened his eyes. He found himself in the center of the scale and quickly grasped the essence of the conversation, as he had been fed the information as soon as he was revived. Although it was a bizarre and futile situation thrust upon him, he concluded that it was better to coexist with the gods rather than be assimilated by the system. Both outcomes were unreasonable, but one seemed preferable, at least based on what he was led to believe.

 

Hash's words carried a mix of hope and determination. “I wish to reset to a decade ago, to the time when dungeons first emerged. I want to relive those events, carrying my memories from that past with me.” His gaze remained fixed on Adriel, a spark of longing in his eyes as hope lingering in his heart to salvage something meaningful.

 

"That's an audacious request. Granting you such an advantage would upset the balance. However, in exchange, I shall be allowed to tweak events slightly and control the progress of my assimilation at a much faster rate" responded the almighty system in a popup text message.

 

With a determined nod, Hash's voice cut through the tension. 'Agreed.' As their words echoed, an immense surge of energy rippled through the void, shaking reality itself as the weight of their decision settled in. It shaped and reformed as time passed.

 

"Is my decision the right one? I don’t have what it takes," he pondered, the weight of his words settling in. Suddenly, he felt a hand placed on his shoulders, a gentle reminder of someone he held dear. The rush of memories, a mix of pain and suffering, surged within him. Countless deaths weighed heavily on his conscience, a burden he couldn't shake.

 

Some were even being done by his own hands because he couldn’t tell friends from foes all because of that system.  The system seemed designed to drive him to the brink of self-doubt and insanity. He had blood on his hand. Hash was determined not to let history repeat itself. Even if the gods themselves weren't the ideal solution, they still appeared more favorable than the relentless system for now.

 

One more chance. To change something for the better. bring down the system and gods, or die trying