Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

"What the hell happened?"

Aaron's voice was low, almost a growl, as his eyes swept across the ruined cityscape. The once-bustling Blue Star was nowhere to be found. Towering skyscrapers lay in heaps of broken steel and stone, streets cracked open like shattered glass, and flames burned unchecked. Ash clouded the sky, choking out the light, and through it all, twisted monsters prowled freely. Their grotesque bodies moved in frenzied hunger, feasting on the carcasses of beasts and men alike. Not a single human could be seen.

Michael stepped through the rift behind Aaron, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Things just got a little complicated," he muttered, the horror reflected in his voice.

Aaron's expression hardened instantly. His instincts screamed that time was bleeding away, that if even one survivor remained, hesitation meant death. His tone turned sharp, commanding, the air itself vibrating under the weight of his authority.

"Scan the area for survivors. As for the monsters—kill them on sight. Any survivor you find, open a rift and send them into the sanctuary. Isobel, pass my instructions to every hybrid and vampire inside. Alice, Flameborn, you're with me. The rest of you, form teams of three."

The orders were crisp, absolute. Without another word, Aaron blurred forward, vanishing into the ruined streets like a shadow of vengeance.

The first pack of monsters he encountered was a group of goblins. Their twisted, greenish faces grinned with malice, clubs dripping with black ichor as they screeched and charged.

Aaron didn't slow down. His crimson eyes flared, threads of mental energy lashing out like invisible blades. He overloaded their fragile minds in a heartbeat.

Pop!

Their skulls burst open one after another like overripe fruit, gore painting the cracked pavement as their headless bodies collapsed in heaps. Aaron was already moving on.

Behind him, Alice and Flameborn swept into action.

Flameborn, no longer restraining himself, transformed into his dragonling form. His body ignited with scales glowing like molten bronze as he inhaled deeply. The next moment, a torrent of fire roared from his maw, waves of scarlet flame consuming goblins, wolves, and crawling horrors in a single breath. Their shrieks echoed, cut short as their bodies blackened and crumbled into ash.

Alice, cold and precise, extended her hand. Ice crystals shimmered in the air, spreading with terrifying speed. Every monster that dared rush her froze mid-stride, encased in jagged frost sculptures. With a single flick of her finger, the statues shattered into shards, littering the battlefield with glittering debris and lifeless remains.

The trio carved through Hex City like a storm, their path marked only by silence where monsters once prowled. But the eerie emptiness gnawed at them. Block after block, they cleansed the streets, yet not a single human appeared.

Alice's voice broke the silence. "That last sector ahead is the only one left." Her blue eyes flicked toward the northern ruins, her breath faintly misting in the cold air of her power.

Aaron narrowed his gaze. "System, noticed anything unusual?"

A translucent window flickered before his vision.

[Observation: Not a single dungeon has appeared during this sweep. In a city like Hex, there should be at least a hundred active dungeons. The absence suggests…]

"…every single one of them broke," Aaron finished, his jaw tightening. His teeth ground together in barely contained rage.

[Highly likely.]

"Idiots," Aaron hissed. "They ignored my warnings after I vanished."

He was still seething when a faint sound pricked his ears—clashing steel, explosions, battle cries. His head snapped northward, his instincts sharpening like blades.

"You heard that?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Alice's expression turned grim. "Yes. A battle is underway, north."

"Then that's our lead," Aaron growled, and in the next instant, he blurred into motion, streaking toward the sound with Alice and Flameborn in pursuit.

---

The northern ruins trembled with chaos.

"You rat! There's no place to hide!" A towering orc mutant roared. His hulking body bristled with muscle, and four thick arms swung massive clubs with terrifying force. Each blow sent shockwaves tearing through the broken streets as he hunted down a single figure—Leo.

Leo's body moved like flowing wind. His B-rank wind control wrapped him in shifting currents, carrying him just out of reach of every strike. His breaths came hard, but his grin remained sharp. The orc's fury only fueled him further.

Behind them, Lily stood firm, her blade gleaming with the precision of the Lionheart clan's swordsmanship. Her voice cut through the chaos. "Lead them away! I'll stall the mobs here!" She motioned for the others to continue evacuating the fifty trembling civilians behind them.

"I'll back you up!" Draken bellowed, slamming his palms together. Explosive flames erupted outward, engulfing the onrushing mobs. Goblins screamed as they burned, stumbling wildly.

Lily's eyes narrowed. She seized the opening. Her katana blurred in arcs of silver light, slicing clean through disoriented throats and severing heads from shoulders. Each motion was sharp, measured—a deadly dance honed through her clan's legacy.

The trio's strategy was brutal but effective. Leo distracted the orc leader, baiting his wrath and buying time, while Lily and Draken annihilated the mobs. Meanwhile, the non-awakened were escorted toward safety.

Still, it was a fragile balance—one mistake and all of them would die.

"Stop running, rat!" the orc leader bellowed, his rage boiling over. He snatched up a massive rock and hurled it with bone-crushing force.

Leo twisted midair, the wind spiraling around his body like a shield, carrying him barely past the strike. The rock shattered against the ground, splitting it wide open.

"Tsk." Leo clicked his tongue, releasing a volley of wind blades. The shimmering arcs struck the orc's chest, but they bounced harmlessly off his hardened hide. "Still not enough…" he muttered bitterly, shifting again to dodge another thunderous blow.

"Almost done with the evacuation!" one of the awakened shouted, guiding the terrified civilians. Hope sparked in their voices, but exhaustion showed in Leo's eyes.

"Good," he panted, a strained grin breaking across his face. "Because I'm at my limit here."

Then the ground shook again.

From the direction of the evacuees, another massive figure stepped into view, dragging the decapitated body of one of the awakened.

"You're too weak, brother," the newcomer sneered. His frame was even more monstrous—one and a half times larger than the first orc. His crimson eyes glowed with hunger as he lifted the corpse high and bit its head clean off.

Everyone froze in horror.

Leo's breath caught. Lily's grip faltered. Even Draken's flames stuttered.

"You bastard!" the first orc roared at his brother.

"You can't blame me. He was annoying," the newcomer—Derios—grinned, blood staining his jagged teeth. He turned, plucking another human from the huddled survivors. This time, an unawakened.

"It's time to feast, brother." His voice was a growl of hunger.

The civilians screamed, yet none of the awakened dared move. Despair swallowed them whole.

Draken chuckled bitterly. "Guess this is where we die." Lily clenched her blade, fighting the tremor in her hands.

Then—

Shhhk!

A blade cut clean through Derios's arm. Blood sprayed across the cracked pavement as the unawakened fell—only to be caught gently by a pale woman with flowing white hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Agh!" Derios roared in pain, staggering back, his feast interrupted.

Leo's eyes widened in disbelief, his voice trembling as recognition struck. "Aaron?"

The name carried across the ruins, freezing Lily, Draken, and every survivor.

Hope had returned, and it stood cloaked in overwhelming power.