Lost In Chaos

Axion was poised to strike.

Ryuma, breathless and battle-hungry, braced for impact.

Kaz, seated on the sidelines, watched in frozen shock.

Then—shadows surged from the ground, wrapping around Axion's limbs like living tendrils.

Ryuma immediately fell back, instincts flaring, while Kaz remained momentarily stunned. His gaze snapped toward the source of the interference.

A tall man stood near the entrance, looking utterly exhausted.

Dark circles clung to his half-lidded eyes, accentuated by even deeper underbags. His messy hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in days, and a cup of coffee sat lazily in his grip. His other hand absentmindedly scratched his head, as if pulling himself through another grueling morning.

Despite his dishevelled state, his attire stood out—a fully armoured riot suit, though its material wasn't standard issue. It was crafted from Rift Beast parts.

Kaz's mind raced. Who is this guy?

Ryuma, however, didn't hesitate.

"Conrade," he sighed, voice laced with frustration. "I was just about to fight for real."

Kaz blinked, confused. "Ryuma, who is this guy?"

But Ryuma didn't answer.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, glaring at the newcomer as his wings flared wider. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by something much colder.

Kaz had never seen him this serious before.

"Are you seriously that mad that I left the clan?" Ryuma's voice was sharper now, carrying an edge of resentment. "I told my father he has no control over me."

Kaz felt the shift immediately.

Ryuma's slitted pupils thinned.

His wings grew larger.

His Riftborn trait—Dragonling—was responding. But that wasn't all. His new feature, born from Lord's Strength, was amplifying it.

This could get dangerous.

Kaz instinctively glanced into his Sanctuary.

His Chaos Counter was rising.

55/100.

60/100.

The climb was getting faster. The numbers in his mind pulsed like a growing headache.

The system's warnings were getting louder.

Kaz clenched his fists. He couldn't let it hit 100. Not here.

His breathing became shallow.

70/100.

The tension in the room thickened.

Kaz suddenly shouted, "Let go of Ryuma!" His voice was sharp, almost desperate.

80/100.

Conrade didn't even react. He sighed and took a long sip of his coffee.

Axion, who had been eerily silent until now, glanced at Kaz.

Then, with a voice tinged with irritation, he muttered, "I give up."

When those words left Axion's lips, Ryuma's transformation snapped back.

His glowing wings vanished.

His horns receded.

His eyes returned to normal.

Ryuma exhaled heavily before laughing. "Sorry about that," he admitted. "My feature thrives on battle and feeds off hatred. Guess it kinda… got to me."

Conrade remained expressionless. "No more fighting on campus. It's time for class."

And with that, he stepped into his own shadow and disappeared.

Kaz looked down at his Chaos Counter.

100.

His stomach sank.

Frenzied Chaos would activate tonight.

Shit.

A Lesson in Survival

Kaz sat in his first class, Ryuma beside him, the lingering tension from earlier still crawling under his skin.

At the front of the classroom, their professor stood on a podium—a small man, barely reaching five feet, but with a presence that felt much larger.

His voice was dignified and crisp.

"I am Evolved Free."

Kaz narrowed his eyes. What kind of name is that?

"You five," Free continued, gesturing to the students, "will only be here for a few months."

He began roll call.

"Ryuma."

"Here."

"Renna."

"Present."

"Kaz."

"Here."

"Lionel."

A faint grunt of acknowledgment.

Once the list was complete, Professor Free's gaze sharpened.

"Before we begin, understand this—you cannot survive the Rift if you do not understand its origin."

Kaz straightened slightly, intrigued.

"This may be a Survival Wilderness course," Free continued, "but we cannot start without the basics."

Kaz listened intently.

Everyone knew the general story of the Rift's beginning, but that was all. The details were vague, buried in history.

Kaz's past had been chaotic. His first Rift experience was brutal.

Yet, because of Prosperous, he had survived.

That ability had thrust him into dangerous places—but allowed him to thrive.

Meeting Ryuma.

Encountering the Chaos God.

Killing the Aberration Riftspawn.

It had all been thanks to that.

Kaz absentmindedly pulled his shirt collar slightly open.

A small imp-like creature nestled against his skin, still asleep.

Even it had been part of his journey.

Free's voice snapped him back to the lesson.

"The beginning," the professor said, "was rough."

"At first, people simply began to glow. A faint, inner light beneath their skin. Then—" he snapped his fingers, "they would vanish."

Kaz's eyes narrowed.

"The police at the time couldn't track them all. But what replaced those people—were monsters."

A heavy silence settled over the room.

"The Rift Beasts appeared. They destroyed humanity. And the first humans to return from the Rift… came back different."

Free paced slowly, his tone unwavering.

"They possessed mythical powers. Some wielded floating swords, some controlled shadows, and others wielded flames so hot they could melt diamond."

"And among them… were the first leaders of the great clans."

Kaz leaned forward.

Whitebloom.

Forged Fallen.

Finheart.

The names were legendary.

"These were their true names," Free continued. "Their real names remain hidden."

Kaz frowned.

But something nagged at him.

The Scar Clan still hasn't been mentioned.

He filed that thought away for later.

Raising his hand, he asked, "Sir, what are the rankings of Rift Beasts and the class system?"

Free nodded. "Good question. The very basics."

He turned to the board.

"There are four main ranks."

Aberration Rank – The weakest. Even a non-Riftborn could potentially fight one—though it would be a struggle.Abyssal Rank – Strong. Novices would struggle and most would lose.Titan Rank – Run. Only Masters can face them.Demon Rank – The highest. A single roar could kill an unprepared Riftborn. Only Lords can hope to challenge them.

He let the weight of those words sink in before moving on.

"Now, classifications."

He tapped the board again.

Lesser Rift Spawn – Weak.Rift Spawn – Stronger.Leviathan Rank – Run.Apex Rank – Let the Lords handle it.

Free exhaled, rubbing his temples. "That's the summary."

He then straightened. "Now, back to history—"

Kaz, however, was still stuck on one thought.

Why hasn't anyone spoken about the Scar Clan yet?