A Cradle to Avert Apocalypse C1

Chapter 1

A monster like a colossal warship seized control of the sky.
The flying demon beast Nukelabi. Resembling a whale, it swam through the heavens as if through the depths of the sea, trampling the world below.

With a single movement of its body—stretching well over several hundred meters and armored in pitch-black scales—entire skyscrapers that had once towered proudly collapsed without resistance, and the asphalt of the roads split apart.

For half a year after its appearance, relentless battles continued. Every civilian who had fled into underground bunkers was crushed to death beneath collapsing concrete, and the Hunters who fought at the cost of their lives fell together with the roadside trees that once lined the streets.

“Cough….”

Nam Shinhoo spat out a mouthful of coagulated blood as he dragged his body forward.

Before him now lay the very Nukelabi that had once embodied despair, collapsed on the ground. With the combined strength of humanity, the final blow had barely succeeded.

Abandon defense and concentrate all remaining firepower on Hunter Nam Shinhoo.

It was the result of an extreme strategy, forced through at the very end. The creature that had once crushed humanity from the skies with arrogant dominance had finally fallen. To bring it down, countless lives had been slaughtered brutally. Nam Shinhoo raised his weapon toward the dying Nukelabi.

He poured strength into both arms. Vivid blue electricity danced along the spear. A massive bolt of lightning connecting sky and earth writhed violently, cleaving the world apart. It was the final reserve of energy they had gathered for this single moment.

“Damn bastard.”

The spear fell.

Tracing a long arc, it drove straight through Nukelabi’s eye and deep into its brain. Flesh sizzled, blood burned, and a grotesque stench filled the air as Nukelabi let out a scream. A shriek like an ultrasonic wave that shook its brain from within engulfed the world.

Struck by the thrashing fin of the agonizing Nukelabi, Nam Shinhoo was sent flying and slammed into a collapsed concrete wall.

The monster’s violent movements slowed. Charred fragments of black scales fell to the ground, and its overwhelming pressure gradually dissipated.

“Ah… hahahaha.”

Even with the pain of a misaligned spine, laughter spilled from his lips. Watching the monster slowly die, Nam Shinhoo’s eyes gleamed.

It had been a desperate battle.

Only half a year had passed. In that short time, humanity had lost everything it had built over thousands of years.

The once-glittering city had turned into ruins. Neon signs lay shattered, glass windows broken and scattered across the streets. The grass in the parks had burned to a pitch-black ash.

Nothing remained. Everything that had lived was dead—the office workers who once filled the streets, the students who had run about with lively energy, the Hunters who had thrown themselves into battle.

The very cause of that despair had finally fallen.

“Ha… haha….”

The laughter faded. Pain, suffering, and the despair accumulated over time crushed Nam Shinhoo’s entire body like a massive boulder. All that remained was a numbing exhaustion so deep he could barely move a single finger.

Nam Shinhoo rubbed his blurred eyes. All around him lay the bodies of Hunters. They were the ones who had sacrificed themselves to create the opportunity for the final strike—to allow Nam Shinhoo to attack, to support him with their lives.

—Grrk… grrrrk….

From afar came the sound of Nukelabi drawing its final breath. The nauseating noise echoed almost sweetly before cutting off completely.

Nam Shinhoo pressed the communicator strapped to his opposite wrist with his right hand.

“Headquarters. Status report.”

—….

There was no response. He pressed another button.

“What about the shelters? Civilian casualties?”

This channel was no different.

“……”

His hand trembled with unease. He tried to calm himself, but failed to regulate his strength, crushing the communicator in his grip. He felt nothing from his surroundings. No breathing, no living pulse. Not even the faintest trace of life.

Clinging to his last shred of hope, Nam Shinhoo spoke.

“Sei. Scan for remaining life signs in the vicinity.”

[Please specify the scanning range.]

“As far as possible. Check the maximum range you can.”

[Processing the requested data. If the data volume is large, this may take some time. Please wait.]

Contrary to the notice, the response came quickly.

[Master. Scan results within a 300-kilometer radius show one detected life sign.]

“…So I’m the only one left.”

He had already braced himself for this the moment no one answered the communicator, but hearing the result made his heart collapse.

Nukelabi’s appendages had struck the entire world simultaneously. Every nation humanity had built fell. The United States, once called a Hunter superpower. The European Union. Countless nations across Asia. Amid the chaos of continents being destroyed, the country that fought to the very end was Korea. And in that Korea, the only remaining living being was Nam Shinhoo.

His arms dropped limply. Emotions with nowhere to go churned violently in his chest.

To attack Nukelabi, they had poured in all remaining strength. There had been no leeway left to even maintain a single shield device in the shelters. Accepting massive sacrifices, they had concentrated all power on Nam Shinhoo—and succeeded in killing Nukelabi.

They had sounded the long-awaited cry of victory, but there was no one left to hear it. After a battle steeped in despair, the only person left on Earth was Nam Shinhoo.

He staggered to his feet. Grabbing his screaming lower back, he approached the nearest fallen body. He knelt and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, but the corpse did not stir.

I’ll guard you until the very end. I am the strongest shield of the Saint Guild—and its final shield. I’ll die for you, so you become the sun for those who remain.

He had been a trusted aide who had protected Nam Shinhoo for twenty years, and also a longtime friend who used to complain together about their growing white hair. Nam Shinhoo gently closed his eyes.

Beside him, he laid the body of a young girl to rest as well.

As long as you live, Master, that’s enough. Even if our buffs are cut off, don’t ever look back. Just keep moving forward. You are our last hope.

She was a support-type Hunter who had continued to send Nam Shinhoo strength until her final breath. That was why Nam Shinhoo alone had been able to breathe while all other Hunters fell to Nukelabi’s toxic gas.

Nam Shinhoo arranged the bodies one by one. He laid them down gently and closed their eyes. Though covered in dust and stained with blood, every face looked peaceful.

It’s okay no matter what happens to me. Hunter Nam Shinhoo will save humanity from this darkness.
I’ll go on ahead—please fulfill our wish.
If you don’t smash that damned Nukelabi’s head, I’ll resent you even in hell. So don’t worry about us and keep moving forward.

They were faces emptied of regret and lingering attachment. Those who had given everything for Nam Shinhoo wore faint smiles.

“Idiots… what last hope, what sun. In the end….”

Sweat and tears mingled as they fell onto the ground. Watching the droplets form circular stains, Nam Shinhoo muttered,

“I couldn’t save anything.”

He clenched the hand of one of the corpses he had been arranging.

It was the body of a Hunter whose name and face he barely knew. Yet they had trusted him enough to stake their life.

Countless lives had ended this way. So many had died to protect Nam Shinhoo, the so-called last hope, that he could not bring himself to lift his head.

He bit down hard on his lip. Blackened blood trickled down his chin.

If I’d known this would be the outcome….

His hands tightened into fists. His clenched jaw trembled.

This is all my fault.

Belated regret surged forth. It drilled deep into his bones, making every joint feel as though it were collapsing in agony.

From the planning stage, the Hunter Association had known the operation would involve sacrifices. They had proceeded fully aware that civilians and countless Hunters would die. And the one with final authority over that decision had been Nam Shinhoo himself. It was a plan enacted under the belief that a small number of sacrifices was unavoidable.

The operation failed. And it ended in the worst possible conclusion.

A plan that had anticipated limited sacrifices resulted in everyone being sacrificed—and the only person left alive and breathing atop that mountain of deaths was Nam Shinhoo.

“……”

Blood dripped down from his tightly clenched fist.

He had been wrong. Even if it meant humanity’s complete annihilation, it should not have been done this way. Nam Shinhoo should have been the one to sacrifice the most. Even if his arms were torn apart and his heart burst, he should have stood on the front line from the beginning. He should have died before them all, prepared to self-detonate while grappling Nukelabi.

“…Hhk.”

The sobbing of the sole survivor echoed across the plaza. Wet marks etched themselves into the dry, dust-blown ground.

Staring at the ground with hollow eyes, Nam Shinhoo failed to notice the shadow slowly approaching behind him, consumed by grief.

A pitch-black shape crept closer and stopped at his back.

“…!”

When Nam Shinhoo finally turned around in alarm, what stood before him was the silhouette of a humanoid figure entirely black—its body covered in pitch-black scales, just like the Nukelabi he had just slain.

Don’t tell me… it had a second phase?

Among dungeon boss monsters, there were often those that changed form after death, entering a second phase with a new body and new attack patterns.

Nam Shinhoo hurriedly gripped his spear. He seized the handle, still faintly sparkling with residual current—but it was already too late.

The approaching demon beast extended its hand without hesitation. Just as Nam Shinhoo had done—

it pierced straight through his body.

notes

1. Nukelabi (누켈라비): A monster inspired by Korean folklore, reinterpreted in hunter-fantasy settings as a catastrophic, world-ending flying entity.