Cold rain lashed against Ben’s face, dragging him back from the dark void of unconsciousness. Gasping for air, he rolled onto his stomach, his fingers clawing at the slick, wet concrete of the rooftop. Each breath felt like inhaling liquid fire, his lungs burning with an intensity that made him gasp. Tightening his right hand into a fist, he felt something sharp and jagged bite deep into his palm. Blood, thick and hot, welled from the deep cut, mixing instantly with the freezing downpour. His palm throbbed with a rhythmic, pulsing heat that seemed to fight against the numbness creeping up his arm. Images of fire and ruin flashed behind his eyelids, burning hotter than any physical injury. Screams of dying millions echoed in his ears, a chaotic roar that refused to fade. Overhead, the sky of his old world had torn open, revealing a gaping maw of absolute nothingness that devoured stars. A final, terrified bark from his loyal companion sounded clearest of all, cut short as the darkness swallowed him whole. Rusty had been more than just a pet; he was the only anchor Ben had in a harsh, unforgiving world. Finding the scruffy golden retriever shivering under a rain-soaked porch years ago had changed his life. They had shared stale bread, cold nights, and dreams of a better future. Seeing those bright, loyal eyes turn to ash under the void's merciless gaze had broken something fundamental inside him. Now, the thought of opening his heart to another creature made his stomach twist with a cold, greasy dread. To bond with a beast meant exposing his soul to the threat of that agony all over again. He couldn't do it—he wouldn't allow himself to care, to love, or to feel that fragile warmth. Yet, without them, he was nothing in this world of tamers. He would treat them as weapons, as tools to carve his way to absolute power. Only strength mattered now. Anger, cold and sharp as the crystal in his hand, crystallized in Ben's chest. He had been too weak, too slow, too useless to save a single living soul. Struggling to his feet, he wiped a mixture of rain and blood from his eyes, staring out at the impossible horizon. Towering spires of steel and glass stretched into the stormy sky, far grander than anything from his old home. Neon lights of violet, azure, and emerald sliced through the grey gloom, painting the rain in artificial colors. Hovering transports darted between the massive structures, leaving trails of light in their wake. Massive holographic advertisements flickered against the clouds, showing titanic beasts clashing in massive arenas. One ad featured a colossal flame-winged tiger roaring at the sky, its fiery breath evaporating the virtual rain around it. Another showed a serpentine water dragon coiling around a skyscraper, its scales shimmering with pearlescent light. What kind of place was this? Nowhere in his memory did a city of this scale, of this sheer, overwhelming scale, exist. He looked down at his hand, slowly opening his fist to inspect the source of his pain. Resting in his blood-slicked palm was a jagged, glowing shard of obsidian-like crystal. Pulse after pulse of warm, violet light emanated from the stone, defying the freezing wind. It was a remnant of his old world, a physical anchor to a home that no longer existed. He held it close to his chest, the warmth of the crystal keeping his failing heart beating. Seeking shelter from the biting wind, Ben staggered toward a sleek, glass-walled structure on the far side of the roof. His legs felt like lead, his clothes clinging to his shivering frame like heavy sheets of ice. Pushing against a heavy glass sliding door, he managed to slip inside, escaping the tempest. --- Stepping through the doorway, he collapsed onto the polished wooden floor of a luxurious penthouse lounge. Warm air enveloped him, a sudden contrast that made his entire body shudder violently. Puddles of water quickly formed around his boots, staining the pristine, white rug beneath him. He dragged himself toward a sleek leather sofa, hauling his shivering body onto the cushions. Silence filled the room, broken only by the muffled patter of rain against the thick, insulated glass windows. Placing the glowing crystal shard onto a nearby glass coffee table, he watched its pulsing light illuminate the dark room. Violet light cast long, eerie shadows across the minimalist furniture and high-tech appliances. He closed his eyes, trying to quiet the roaring in his ears, but the silence only made the memories louder. Every face he had ever known, every street he had walked, reduced to cosmic dust in a matter of seconds. And he, the sole survivor, had been spat out into this strange, neon-drenched metropolis. Suddenly, a violent spasm racked his body, forcing him to clutch his head as a white-hot spike of pain pierced his skull. He fell from the sofa, writhing on the floor as his brain felt like it was being physically rewired. Unfamiliar concepts, historical events, and complex laws of physics flooded his consciousness all at once. Sheer volume of information was staggering, threatening to tear his sanity apart. Visions of a world built on the backs of titanic creatures, of academies dedicated to the art of summoning, flashed in his mind. Earth 2.0. This was the name of the realm he now inhabited, a parallel dimension of high technology and ancient beasts. Monsters, beasts, and mythical entities coexisted with humans, utilized for labor, defense, and high-stakes combat. Power in this world belonged to the Beast Tamers, individuals capable of forming spiritual contracts with these creatures. Those without beasts were relegated to the fringes of society, helpless against the wild dangers of the outer zones. Memories that weren't his own unfolded in his mind, detailing the classification of these creatures. Beasts were categorized from common Iron rank all the way to legendary God rank. Tamers spent their entire lives training, fighting, and sacrificing just to catch a glimpse of a high-tier beast. Most people were lucky to contract a basic domestic beast to help with daily chores or minor defense. Only the elite, the chosen few born with immense spiritual talent, could dream of commanding dragons, phoenixes, or behemoths. Ben felt his pulse quicken as the system's presence in his mind began to synchronize with his soul. He understood the language, the currency, the geography, and the brutal hierarchy of this new world. If he had possessed this kind of power back then, he could have saved his home. Becoming a tamer of legends, he could have fought back against the void that consumed his reality. Guilt washed over him, heavy and suffocating, accompanied by the phantom scent of ozone and burning flesh. He vowed right then, with his face pressed against the cold floor, that he would never be weak again. No matter the cost, he would climb to the very peak of this world’s power structure. Amassing an army of the most powerful beasts, he would prepare for the darkness he knew was coming. Void entities were out there, moving through the multiverse, and eventually, they would find this world too. A soft, chiming sound echoed through the quiet penthouse, cutting through his dark thoughts. Blinking through the tears of physical pain, Ben looked up to see a strange phenomenon. Glowing text hung suspended in the air directly in front of him, rippling like water whenever he breathed. Initialize. This was not a dream, nor was it a hallucination brought on by his trauma. Slowly, the glowing letters began to shift and rearrange themselves, drawing energy from the crystal shard on the table. Teal light flared as the blue interface merged with the violet energy of the crystal. Never again would he allow himself to be helpless. Losing everything once was a curse; letting it happen again would be a choice. Resolving to seize whatever opportunity lay before him, Ben leaned forward, staring intently at the floating runes. His heart hammered against his ribs, a steady, rhythmic drumbeat of anticipation and fear. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to fight, ready to survive in this alien landscape. He knew the risks of bonding with another living being; the pain of loss was a scar that would never truly heal. Yet, without power, he was nothing but prey waiting for the slaughter. Utilizing whatever tools this universe gave him was his only path forward, even if it meant hardening his heart. Glowing crystal shard on the table flared with a brilliant, blinding light, casting long shadows across the room. Power, raw and ancient, hummed in the air, vibrating through the floorboards and settling deep within his bones. He could feel it—a dormant spark waiting to be ignited, a promise of strength he had desperately craved. Taking a deep breath, he forced his trembling hands to steady, his gaze locked onto the emerging interface. Whatever entity had brought him here, whatever system now governed his fate, he would master it. No beast, no man, and no cosmic horror would ever take his freedom away again. Air grew heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and ancient magic, as the floating letters solidified. A vibrant blue interface, shimmering with arcane symbols, materializes before him, displaying the words: 'Universal Pet Gacha System Initialized. Summoning Point: 1. Draw?'

Chapter 1: Abyss's Embrace, New Dawn