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A young Fathoran knelt in a seemingly limitless white room. The air vibrated with supernatural energy, and the young man trembled, overwhelmed by reverence and fear. Before him stood God, the creator of his world.

"Since you've won, you shall have the name of the founder I had prepared... Fathoran Von Orlion, congratulations," God began.

Young Fathoran bowed his head, his heart swelling with pride and anticipation. "Thank you, Creator. I've dedicated every moment to strengthening my body and mind, just as you taught us."

God nodded, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "Good, good. But now you'll face an even greater test."

Fathoran looked up, his eyes shining with determination. "I'm ready to serve, Creator. Tell me what I must do."

"You must guide them, my time is running out," God said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I needed a leader, someone capable of navigating this labyrinth of traps. You, the first to surpass the fifth level, the most astute of all, will be that leader."

God placed a hand on Fathoran's shoulder. "Listen carefully. What I'm about to tell you will determine the future of humanity. Every decision you make, every action you take, could be the difference between victory and extinction..."

"From today, you'll be the king, the ruler, so let me clarify some things... I created this city to be an oasis in this desert, but every decision I made was countered by her."

"Her?" Fathoran asked.

"The Goddess," God spat. "My beautiful utopian system, thrown in the trash... For every advantage I gave you, she imposed a limitation. Mana, allowing life in this desert, but scarce. Power, locked in the Book System, powerful when obtained, but a mortal challenge..."

"It's a zero-sum game, Fathoran. For you to free yourselves, you must defeat the demons. And they're in the same situation."

God leaned in, his eyes glowing with intensity. "But the Goddess... she's cunning. More than I'd like to admit. The disadvantages I could impose on her are minor... Her traps and restrictions have left you at a disadvantage from the start...

It wasn't my fault."

"What can we do?" Fathoran asked, feeling the weight of the revelation.

God seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if searching for the right words. "You see, Fathoran, humanity's survival depends on... Well, you must level up, but don't rush, try to get the 4th or 5th invocation before attempting level 6, the difficulty increases... You also depend on numbers... Hmm... and more importantly, you must be united, like a family."

"Family?" Fathoran frowned, confused. "What is family, Creator?"

"Ah, that's, well," God scratched his head, seeming momentarily bewildered. "Oh right, I only gave you babel and super resistance... It's something like when you're born... oh, but I made you the first ones, damn it. Umm, you see when a mother has a child, that's family. Wait, but that's not what I mean...

Look, it's complicated to explain with the limitations we have... Anyway, you'll understand when you grow older."

Fathoran noticed that God seemed frustrated, as if he wanted to say more but something was preventing him.

Fathoran blinked, trying to make sense of the Creator's words.

"Family, yes, family," God continued, as if trying to convince himself. "A large family, alright? So you protect that family, understand? With everything you have, and you kill the monsters... Do you get it?"

"Do everything to survive and protect?" Fathoran asked, trying to understand.

God paused, as if wanting to say something more. Then he seemed resigned and continued.

"You'll do whatever is necessary, Fathoran. To survive. To win. Because if we fail, if she wins... all will be lost."

God paused, his expression darkening. "If you manage your resources well, you can live at least a thousand years. And if you manage to push back the demons before that time, even longer."

Fathoran's eyes widened. "A thousand years? But, the age limit..."

"To live beyond 50, you'll need your people's cooperation," God interrupted. "The potion to extend your life costs 10 million mana points. A million per year."

Fathoran felt the weight of responsibility fall on his shoulders. "With a reduced population, that expense would be..."

"Exactly," God nodded gravely. "It's in your interest to increase the population. Mana will be scarce at first, but with time and astute management, you can prosper. And you'll need every drop of mana and every soldier for what's coming."

God leaned in even closer, his voice barely audible. "Listen well, Fathoran. If you can bring the population to a billion within those thousand years, do it. Fill this city with your descendants if necessary. Because every human is a weapon against the demons, every life a barrier against extinction."

Fathoran nodded slowly, the weight of his mission settling in his soul. "I understand, Creator. Increase the population, manage resources, prepare for war."

"Exactly," God confirmed, his gaze penetrating. "But be careful too, there's... there's a limit," God seemed to struggle with the words. "A limit of 1.1 million people can live in the city. If that limit is exceeded, the consequences would be catastrophic. First, you must bring them to level…

…I suppose 10 will be enough to start, with you at the head, I guess... Remember, Fathoran. Do whatever is necessary to ensure humanity's survival. Whatever it takes. Even if that means sacrificing something or someone..."

"Well, time's up, I must go... Take these 2 books, you decide how to handle the information. So let me see if it's clear... Have you understood?"

"Yes, Creator, 'family' is the most important," the young Fathoran answered, his voice trembling with reverence and fear.

'Oh right right the godly voice I can't leave without testing it'

"Then tell me, little one," God whispered, His voice charged with a power that made the walls tremble, "what would you be willing to do to survive? To protect your own?"

"Whatever is necessary, Father. Whatever it takes."

With a gesture of his hand, God created more humans to replenish the more than 60,000 fallen humans around them. "I leave you with your people, Fathoran. Guide them, strengthen them, prepare them. Because if we fail, if the Goddess wins... there will be no second chance."

As God's figure began to fade, his last words resonated in Fathoran's mind:

"Remember, survival is all that matters. Do whatever is necessary. Whatever it takes."

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Elio tightened his giant carbon hands, determined to end Fathoran once and for all.

He could feel the resistance of the Founder's body, and increased the pressure...

He squeezed harder...

Harder...

HARDER

An explosion of energy caused his carbon hands to shatter into a thousand pieces.

Before he could process what was happening, a sharp, piercing pain tore through his chest.

Elio looked down, incredulous, to see a corrosive stake protruding from his heart. The world around him began to fade, and his legs gave way beneath him.

The last thing he saw before darkness enveloped him was Fathoran's figure, standing amidst the remains of the carbon hands, with an expression of relentless determination on his face.