AGNOSTOS
Book I: Resilience
CHAPTER — Above the Food Chain
The world stopped.
Not metaphorically.
The wind froze.
Birds hung suspended in the sky.
Sound died.
Then the voice came.
It didn’t come from the heavens.
It didn’t rise from the earth.
It echoed inside the mind.
[Planet Earth… Humanity… Survive and ascend the new food chain.]
[You are now the hunted… no longer the hunters.]
Screams erupted everywhere.
Cars crashed.
The sky fractured like shattered glass.
But he…
He didn’t scream.
His name was Dante.
And in that moment, his heart didn’t slow down in fear.
It sped up.
A strange smile — almost predatory — spread across his face.
“Finally.”
His hands were shaking.
Not from panic.
From excitement.
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I always liked the rush.
I just hid it.
At my grandparents’ farm, out in the countryside during school breaks…
I didn’t play.
I challenged myself.
I broke wild horses.
They weren’t tame saddle horses.
They were instinct wrapped in nearly half a ton of muscle.
Even approaching them was a confrontation.
The horse would catch my scent.
Its head would snap up.
Ears pinned back.
Nostrils flaring, blasting hot air.
It didn’t see me as a partner.
It saw me as an intruder.
I’d lay a hand slowly against its neck, feeling the tension vibrating beneath thick hide.
Then came the jump.
No secure saddle.
No real control.
The reaction was explosive.
It would rear violently.
Twist mid-buck.
Try to slam me into fence posts.
Its back thrashing like a living earthquake.
That strength wasn’t cruelty.
It was freedom refusing restraint.
I felt every muscle contract beneath my legs.
Every hoof strike shook through my bones.
The world narrowed to two pounding hearts.
His fighting to throw me off.
Mine fighting to stay.
It wasn’t about breaking him.
It was about enduring the storm long enough for him to recognize me.
And then… that moment.
Breathing shifted.
Tension dropped — just slightly.
He was still wild.
But he allowed me to remain.
That second…
When brute force isn’t destroyed —
only understood.
That was life.
I didn’t want comfort.
I wanted the edge.
But adulthood came.
Responsibilities.
Failures.
A relationship that collapsed.
When my girlfriend left…
I didn’t fall apart just because I loved her.
I fell apart because I failed.
Pain turned into addiction.
I replaced real danger with sports betting.
Artificial adrenaline.
A fake sense of control.
I was destroying myself slowly.
And then…
The System arrived.
A tear opened beside him.
Dark.
Pulsing.
He was shirtless.
Barefoot.
Wearing nothing but shorts.
And holding a knife.
The same knife that, hours earlier, would’ve been his farewell to life.
He laughed.
“The irony…”
And he jumped.
White light.
Absolute silence.
Then the interface appeared.
[The System will send you to one of four worlds.]
[Choose carefully. There will be no return for 30 years.]
[During this time, Earth will undergo one year of terraformation.]
[You will not age… until you return. If you return.]
Four projections unfolded before him.
01 — Arcane World
Islands floated above oceans of clouds.
Cities stood suspended by pulsing arcane crystals.
Magical empires fought over sentient grimoires.
Living libraries guarded forbidden spells.
Noble bloodlines carried elemental affinities:
Fire.
Ice.
Storm.
Gravity.
Light and Shadow.
Archmages shaped the weather.
Battle Mages shattered armies.
Summoners bargained with ancient entities.
In this world, magic defined relevance.
Without magical talent… you were insignificant.
02 — Necro World
The sky was eternally gray.
Miasma blanketed rotting cities.
Lich Kings ruled from thrones of bone.
The dead walked freely.
Cults worshiped decay as transcendence.
Souls were resources.
Life was currency.
Magic corrupted.
To survive meant negotiating with death.
Or becoming part of it.
Dante frowned.
“No chance.”
03 — War World
Continents fractured by endless conflict.
Military empires.
Colossal coliseums where champions were forged in blood.
Battlefields that never truly slept.
Multiple races clashed:
Humans.
Orks.
Elves.
Dwarves.
Beastmen.
Lesser demons.
Magic existed.
But strength, strategy, and adaptability decided survival.
Lethal forests.
Mountains ruled by ancient creatures.
Legendary martial orders.
Mercenaries worth entire armies.
Glory and death walked side by side.
Power wasn’t inherited.
It was taken.
04 — Bestial World
A primordial jungle.
Predators at the absolute top.
Beastmen.
Tribal elves.
Human hunters bound to totemic clans.
You didn’t dominate nature.
You negotiated with it.
Or you were devoured.
Dante closed his eyes.
“Arcane… intelligence above all.
Necro… endless decay.
Bestial… pure instinct.
War…”
He inhaled slowly.
Where would I thrive?
The answer came clean.
You’re not a mage.
You refuse to rot.
You were never born to be prey.
He smiled.
“I’ve always liked the arena.”
The choice was made.
The light vanished.
He fell.
The smell of wet earth.
Heavy air.
An unnatural silence.
[Welcome to the War World.]
[Location: Devouring Forest.]
[Initial skill granted: Appraise.]
Dante let out a low laugh.
“Of course… you drop me in a death forest with a knife.”
