The classroom buzzed with low murmurs.
Some students were still settling into their seats.
Professor Halden had arrived five minutes ago, tapping his fingers on the desk while waiting for the latecomers to stop trickling in.
I leaned back in my chair, half-listening to the idle chatter around me. It was just another day.
Until the floor lit up.
A deep blue light pulsed under our feet.
Intricate runes snapped to life, carving themselves into the tiles with blinding speed. It looked like a magic circle from the animes.
Before anyone could scream, the world twisted.
When I opened my eyes, the classroom was gone. So were the whiteboards and desks.
We stood in a wide marble hall with high-arched windows.
Lining the walls were men and women dressed in robes embroidered with gold and silver.
They had an air of nobility, but their eyes glinted with calculation.
A few students gasped.
One girl let out a nervous laugh.
"Guys... this is like an actual isekai."
Someone else muttered, "We really got summoned."
The idea spread like wildfire.
Eyes lit up. Whispers turned to excited chatter.
Students started looking around for the usual: a mysterious king, a wise sage, a prophecy to defeat the demon king.
We expected titles, cheat abilities, maybe even a cute elf guide.
But what we got instead was silence.
The robed figures — mages, as we’d later learn — exchanged brief glances.
Then one of them turned and gave a simple order.
"Soldiers. Take them."
Steel boots echoed through the hall.
Dozens of armored men marched in and surrounded us without ceremony.
Wands and swords were aimed at our chests.
"What the hell is this?" Our class representative stepped forward. "We deserve to know what’s going on!"
A soldier walked up to him without a word and drew his blade.
The sound of metal tearing through flesh cut through the noise.
Our representative collapsed, blood pooling beneath him.
No one screamed.
We were frozen stiff from shock.
That was the moment it clicked.
We weren’t summoned heroes.
We were something else.
They dragged us out in chains after that, and separated us.
We were forced onto carriages without a word.
We rode for hours, maybe days — it was hard to tell — until we reached a place they called the Outer Camps.
It was the edge of civilization, and the beginning of the Uncharted Lands.
There, we met other people from different worlds.
Some were from Earth, summoned months and years ago.
Others were from places we’d never heard of.
They looked tired, and worn down. But they were not surprised to see us.
One man, probably in his thirties, looked at us and muttered, "Fresh meat."
That was how we learned the truth.
This world was called [Wageah]. An endless world that had yet to be mapped fully.
Magic, and superpowers existed in this place.
People here could destroy mountains with a punch, and split seas with a sword strike.
The ones who summoned us were part of the so-called Allied Kingdoms — an alliance of nations desperate for power.
We, the summoned, were not guests.
We were Slaves.
The Allied Kingdoms were after ’treasures.’
The thirteen treasures left behind by the Supreme God who created this endless world.
Each treasure was said to contain a fragment of divine power.
With even one, a person could become unmatched.
With all thirteen... they would become an omnipotent God.
The problem was, the locations of these treasures was unknown.
The only known treasure was hidden somewhere in the Uncharted Lands.
It was a vast and deadly region filled with monsters, ancient ruins, and cursed zones where even the air could kill.
The Allied Kingdoms wanted that treasure at all cost.
They had tried sending their own soldiers into Uncharted Lands.
Too many died.
The kingdoms couldn’t keep sending so many soldiers.
So they started summoning.
People from other worlds were summoned.
People they didn’t consider "real" citizens.
People they could sacrifice freely.
We weren’t protected by any law. We had no status, no rights.
We were expendable.
Every day, thousands of otherworldly ’slaves’ would be summoned.
We were taught to fight.
They gave us weapons, basic training, and then sent us in waves.
Magic users, sword wielders, alchemists. It didn’t matter what we were.
All that mattered was whether we could survive long enough to scout new areas.
Most didn’t.
I tried. I really did. So did my friends.
But every time we went out, someone else didn’t return.
Traps. Beasts. Rogue adventurers. Some of us died to the land. Some to each other.
Eventually, only four of us were left.
Just four from an entire class.
We didn’t give up. We continued our explorations.
Because we had a goal.
If we reached Rank 4, the Allied Kingdoms would let us return home.
It would not be a permanent return, but instead a brief vacation.
And if we reached Rank 5, we could go back home permanently.
It was the only hope we had.
We clung to it like lifelines.
And then, one day, I found it.
A black stone buried deep within an abandoned ruin.
"G-guys, look at this."
"Hey, doesn’t it feel like the treasure description we were given..."
It was covered in layered seals that reacted to my touch. A strange voice whispered in my ear the moment I touched it.
[New owner found.]
That was how I obtained one of the Supreme God’s treasures.
[Shadow.]
Its power was beyond anything I’d ever seen.
My magic deepened. My control sharpened.
I understood why the kingdoms were obsessed with the thirteen treasures.
Of course, I didn’t tell anyone about the treasure, not even the commanders.
Only my friends knew, since we had found the treasure together. We hid the news as we wouldn’t be allowed to go back if the kingdoms found we had the treasure.
Together with my friends, we kept pushing forward, and growing stronger.
Our goal was still same.
Rank 4.
Hopefully, Rank 5.
Then, we would go back home.
"We... did... it..."
"Sob! Sob! We are finally Rank 4!"
"Hurray!"
"Freedom. Sob... finally... sob..."
We were allowed to back to Earth for a vacation since we reached Rank 4.
But we never made it.
Before our scheduled return, the Empire invaded.
It was not a skirmish like before, but a full-scale war.
The frontlines collapsed.
They drafted every able fighter to push back the tide.
My friends went to the battlefield. All of them died the same day.
"N... no... no.... this can’t be happening!"
I saw their corpses myself.
I lost it.
My sense of reasoning collapsed.
They were not just friends for me. They were my family.
In anger, I revealed my treasure and used its power to fight back.
I did not do it for the Allied Kingdoms, nor because I cared about the citizens dying helplessly in the war.
I was sick and tired of being losing things precious to me.
The Allied Kingdoms who summoned us? I hated them.
The soldiers who watched us die without blinking? I hated them.
The Empire, who killed the only people I cared about? I hated them most of all.
That’s why I fought.
Because I had nothing left except that hate.
I killed and killed and killed.
Demon of Shadows.
That was what they began to call me.
Would they call me something worse if they knew I was going to attack the Allied Kingdoms after the war against the Empire?
I didn’t care what others would think.
I wanted my revenge.
Back on Earth, I was an orphan. I had lost everything when my parents died. Their love, their warm embrace, our home.
I had lived every day like a soulless puppet since then.
The friends I’d made after arriving in [Wageah] were my new family. They were the reason I hadn’t killed myself after spending years in this hell.
And yet they were gone. All of them.
I continued to move from one battlefield to another, reaping lives. Rivers of blood were created wherever I went.
I was losing my sense of mind the more I killed.
But I never stopped.
The Empire feared me. The Allied Kingdoms dreaded me.
That was when she appeared.
Saintess Mira.
The chosen of the Sun God.
She healed my wounds.
She looked at me like I was still human.
She gave me hope to live again. A reason to stand. A reason to believe things might still get better.
But it turned out, she was using mind magic on me.
Slowly, and subtly, she manipulated my thoughts.
The invisible chains wrapped around my will.
I didn’t notice until it was too late.
My body responded to her words before my brain did.
I had become her puppet.
’I’m going to kill that bitch.’
’I’m going to kill that bitch!’
My lips wouldn’t move, but my hatred grew with each day.
That became the only thing keeping me going.
I wanted to destroy everything.
That bitch. The Allied Kingdoms. The endless world of [Wageah].
’But it looks like I wouldn’t get the chance.’
I watched as the sky split open.
Light poured down from the realm above — from the domain of the High Gods.
’They’ descended, covering the sky with their majestic presence.
Their leader, High Goddess Ophelia, floated at the center of it all, gazing down as she looked at me.
"Why do you protect the Kingdom of Aleesta, O Heir of Shadows?"
I didn’t answer. I just drew my sword.
The citizens and the soldiers had fled. They knew they couldn’t survive. So that bitch Mira gave me one final order before disappearing:
"Hold the High Gods off until your last breath, and buy time for our escape."
She had thrown me away.
And yet, ’I’ fought.
Alone, for three days and three nights.
"You should have retreated," Ophelia said, looking down at me with a cold gaze.
Countless blades pierced my body.
My knees buckled.
My mask cracked and fell.
She froze.
"Your eyes... someone else is controlling you?"
I couldn’t hear the rest. Her voice blurred. All I could feel was her confusion, or perhaps it was rage.
Was she angry that a High God like her had struggled to defeat a puppet?
"Save... him..."
"...quick..."
"...not too late..."
I didn’t want to die.
I wanted to live.
I hadn’t killed that bitch yet.
I had so many regrets. So many things left undone. I wanted another chance.
But I knew there were no second chances.
The stillness of death came.
My thoughts stopped. My body shattered. I died without being able to accomplish anything.
And yet—
"Congratulations, Miss. It’s a baby boy!"
I was back to the past. Back to the moment when I was an infant.
I had been given another chance.