CHAPTER 59: NAMING OLD FRIENDS & THE WARNING

Back inside the pizza shop, the bell above the door jingled faintly as the breeze shifted. I watched the fading silhouette of Katherine disappear into the crowd, the uneaten crust of my slice still clutched in my hand.

Noel noticed my silence, leaning back in his chair with a curious glance.

"You good, man?" he asked, sipping his soda.

I blinked, tearing my gaze from the glass and forcing a breath out. "Yeah."

Noel arched an eyebrow, but didn’t pry. Instead, he leaned forward with a grin. "So, while we’re on the topic... how strong was your old team anyway? The one you had in that timeline?"

I gave a quiet laugh, eyes drifting slightly as memory tugged at me.

"Strong," I said. "Ridiculously strong."

He tilted his head. "How strong are we talking?"

I began ticking them off on my fingers.

"We had Katherine—our healer. She wasn’t just support; she could regenerate entire limbs in seconds. Best recovery mage on Earth, bar none."

"Damn."

"Then there was Einar. Our tank. The guy was a walking fortress—unmovable. He had an Astral Pact with an Earth Patron. Even a Rift Titan couldn’t push him an inch."

Noel’s eyes widened.

"We had Sorieth, the mage. Controlled mana like it was ink and she was the pen. Could freeze fire mid-air or burn through the Void itself."

"Okay, now you’re just flexing," Noel said with a grin.

I chuckled, then my voice dropped a bit more solemn. "Astraia was our swordmaster. Fast. Precise. The kind of lady who could cut you five times before you blink."

"And you?"

I smirked faintly. "Me? Back then I was more of an assassin. Hit-and-run, pure burst damage. But as the Rift got worse, I had to adapt. Started stacking defense, stamina, learning how to outlast instead of just outkill. By the end, I was... half-tank, half-executioner."

Noel gave a low whistle. "That’s one hell of a squad."

"Was," I corrected softly. "They’re all gone now."

Noel nodded quietly, giving me a moment of silence before finally leaning back with a hum. "Guess I’ve got big shoes to fill, huh?"

"You don’t have to fill anyone’s," I said, meeting his gaze. "You just have to be ready. That’s all that matters now."

He gave a slow nod.

Noel broke the silence again after a few bites, his voice softer this time. "So... are you planning to gather them again? Your old team? I mean, in this timeline—will you reach out to them?"

I didn’t answer right away. I watched the steam rise from the pizza on my plate, the scent barely registering as memories danced in the back of my mind—of the battles, the laughter, the losses.

"Maybe," I said at last. "If the time comes."

He nodded slowly, sensing the weight behind my tone. I leaned back and looked at him directly.

"But not now. I don’t need them yet. I can clear the floors on my own, easily. The Rift hasn’t forced me to form a party. Not yet."

"And when it does?" he asked.

I gave a faint, knowing smirk. "Then I’ll consider it. Like the 10th floor. If the system requires a team for that one, I’ll be ready. But I won’t gather people just to relive the past."

Noel nodded, quiet for a moment. "You’re really planning on facing all this alone until then?"

"I’ve already been alone for most of it," I said. "But I’m not weak. Not anymore. You’ve seen what I can do."

"I have," Noel replied with a low chuckle. "And it’s still insane to me that no one else knows."

"They’ll know," I said, eyes narrowing. "When the 10th floor falls. When I stand at the edge of the Rift and face what’s waiting in the depths... again."

Noel grinned and bumped his shoulder against mine. "Then I’ll make sure I’m strong enough to follow when the time comes."

-

We finished the last slices of pizza in silence, the mood settled. The warmth of the meal was already fading, replaced by the quiet hum of the evening crowd beginning to thin outside.

I stretched slightly, glancing out the window. "It’s getting dark," I muttered. "We should head back."

Noel wiped his hands with a napkin, nodding. "Yeah. Big day tomorrow?"

"Something like that," I said with a faint smirk, already tossing the empty cups and plates into the trash.

We exited the shop, the city lights flickering on one by one like a constellation settling over Davao. The Lamborghini purred to life beneath my hands, and we slipped back into the flow of traffic, weaving through the glowing streets in silence.

Once we reached the tower, Noel gave me a lazy wave as he went to his own room. "Rest up, Blank."

I just nodded. "You too."

Then I stepped into my room, shut the door, and finally let the weight of the day settle on my shoulders.

Exhausted but restless, I eventually lay down and closed my eyes.

Sleep took me faster than I expected.

And then, the dream began.

-

It wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t even mine.

I stood on a ruined street—Davao, cracked and bloodied. Buildings scorched and half-collapsed. Sirens echoed somewhere far off, mingled with screaming. The sky above wasn’t a sky at all—just a roiling mass of crimson clouds, pulsing with veins of black lightning.

And from the torn Rift at the heart of the city, they came.

Waves.

Not like the dungeon’s structured assaults—this was chaos incarnate.

Monsters of impossible size and warped anatomy poured out like a flood—some crawling, others flying, many unrecognizable. Rift-born. Twisted.

A Stampede.

Unstoppable.

Vassals fought in the streets. Guilds coordinated strikes, but even the top-ranked fell one by one. People I knew. People I’d forgotten. Blood soaked the pavement.

Noel was there—injured. Fighting desperately.

Katherine... she was kneeling in the rubble, her light dimming. Too much mana spent. She looked up—right at me.

"Blank... do something."

I tried to move. I couldn’t. My legs were stone.

The Rift pulsed again—and from it, a second tear opened.

Something far worse crawled from the breach.

It wasn’t a monster.

It was a man. No—a shadow wearing a man’s shape.

And I knew his name, even before he turned his face to me.

Ignil.

No Herald. No layers. Just him—

The Warden of the Abyss.

And he smiled.

"You should’ve let yourself be killed early, little anomaly. Now look at what you’ve wrought."

Then, the world shattered like glass.

I jolted awake, drenched in sweat.

Panting. Heart racing.

Morning light bled through the curtains—but it felt cold.

Far too cold for dawn.

’A dream? No. A warning.’