7
A black, box-shaped high-mobility vehicle—once a Toyota—lay ahead of them. Its body had been repainted jet black, and a matching black canvas covered the roof.
The rear door, fitted with a vinyl window, opened only on the left side.
For Messiah and Maria, the figure who emerged was nothing short of a bolt from the blue.
“Get in.”
The man beckoned them with a fierce expression.
It was Father Max Dinger.
Messiah and Maria could only stare in shock. Beside them, Fan and the others were just as frozen, unable to comprehend the situation.
The priest grimaced, clearly regretting that his sudden appearance had stalled their escape. He raised his left arm from behind the seat.
A sharp, threadlike tension snapped through the air.
Their eyes widened in horror.
Father Dinger gripped a MAXI8 Unlimited Revolver ABS SV, a thin line of smoke rising from the barrel like a spider’s thread.
The silver gun reflected sunlight straight into Messiah’s face, yanking him back from stunned detachment into brutal reality.
Then—
A wet, searching groan crept up from behind them.
The others snapped fully back to themselves and turned around.
A creature—slick and glistening—had survived the flood of blood from the fallen giant beast and was now slithering toward them, hungry.
Had the priest not fired, they would have been devoured without question, crushed into grotesque pulp between its fangs.
“Move!”
The priest shouted like a thunderclap, firing as he herded them toward the cargo bed.
At the same moment, multiple black-clad figures leapt down from the vehicle. Black military boots hit the ground in unison.
Without hesitation, they unleashed rifle fire into the approaching horde.
There was no careful aim—only overwhelming suppression.
These were trained soldiers.
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They protected the group.
Messiah and the others were thrown into the cargo bed, where benches lined both sides. Standing before them was Father Dinger—yet the familiar priestly warmth was gone. Revolver in hand, he barked at the young driver in a voice sharp enough to tear fabric.
“This area is too dangerous. Move the vehicle. If we stay, we’ll be surrounded.”
The rookie soldier understood instantly—this meant abandoning comrades.
He stared at Max Dinger in disbelief.
“What are you hesitating for?” the priest snapped.
“B-but—”
Gunfire drowned out the young man’s trembling words.
The seat behind them shifted, and a Black soldier leaned into the vehicle, his face drenched in monster blood.
“What are you doing?! Drive!”
There was no fear in his voice—only resolve. As if sacrificing themselves was the plan all along.
The interior echoed with his roar.
The young soldier, Beald Bull, looked at his superior, his brows drawn together like a child seeking approval.
“Rookie,” the Black soldier barked again. “Real combat isn’t gentle. Go!”
The words shoved Beald forward.
He slammed the accelerator.
The thick tires spun briefly in blood before gripping, and the massive vehicle lurched away—fleeing the river of gore.
Maria Priest clung to Messiah’s arm.
Her father’s voice, his posture—everything about him was wrong.
In just a few hours, the world had transformed.
The city lay in ruins. Monsters roamed, craving human flesh. Giants battled massive tentacles. And the man she loved most now carried a gun.
Was her life this morning a dream?
Or had she fallen into an endless nightmare?
Unable to accept reality, Maria could only cling to Messiah—hating her own helplessness as she felt herself sinking deeper inside.
Messiah felt her trembling.
He looked down at her face—eyes wet with tears, her lower lip bitten hard as she fought to keep herself together.
“Father… is this a joke?” Messiah asked.
He already knew the answer.
This was real.
The world had collapsed.
“I’ll explain later,” the priest said flatly. “First, we reach a safe location.”
There were no roads left.
The vehicle crushed rubble endlessly. Occasionally, the tires rolled over something soft.
No one checked whether it was monster flesh—or human.
Only the grinding diesel engine filled the silence, broken by flashes of sunlight glinting off the revolver.
“There—up ahead.”
Skyscrapers collapsed in clouds of smoke, scenes reminiscent of humanity’s darkest memories.
Gas lines exploded beneath the streets. Giants still fought monsters underground, the impacts slamming into the vehicle like hammer blows.
Yet the priest remained calm, pointing toward the highway ramp.
They entered smoothly—but immediately slowed to a stop.
“Blocked again, huh?” Irato Gahanov muttered.
He peered outside, expecting monsters.
Instead—
A traffic jam.
Human instinct drove everyone away from the city. Cars filled every lane, abandoned as people fled on foot.
Behind them lay a ruined city and titanic battles.
Apocalypse.
“There’s no way through,” the young soldier said bitterly. “Too many abandoned vehicles.”
“Request a Physical Shift,” Father Dinger ordered. “Contact headquarters.”
The soldier turned pale.
“That violates the Solomon Charter!”
“This is a Class-One Priority Mission,” the priest replied coldly. “All measures are authorized. Request it. Now.”
After a tense silence—
“Permission granted. Initiating Physical Shift.”
The vehicle accelerated.
They braced.
Impact—
Nothing.
The vehicle passed cleanly through a red sedan.
“What the hell?!” Irato shouted.
“We’ve shifted at a level far smaller than particles,” the priest explained calmly. “The vehicle exists across dimensions. You cannot perceive it.”
As Messiah listened, a piercing ringing tore through his ears.
Maria’s grip vanished.
He felt weightless.
Surrounded by infinite strands of light—
Another inexplicable phenomenon overtook him.
To be continued — Episode 1-8
