“The security mogul Ezra Ross had a rude awakening yesterday afternoon when his private jet was filled with a horrific stench. Despite the initial assumption of bioterrorism, the issue turned out to only be a can of a Swedish specialty, a form of ‘fermented fish’ called Surstrum- … Surstrom- …”

As the newscaster struggled with the pronunciation of “Surströmming”, Isaac shook his head at the situation. Even halfway around the world, daytime television still sucked.

Still, a certain blowhard getting what was coming to him being the biggest news available said good things about how calm things were right now.

Ezra Ross was an annoying prick who thought way too highly of himself and needed to have a rude awakening before his security firm’s blindspots got someone killed. The situation wasn’t bad enough for him to end up on Isaac’s shitlist directly, nor were the people he protected important enough for him to amend his ways to be a priority, but given the opportunity … how could he resist?

He got up and brushed off the various grains of sand that had gotten on him even while he’d sat at the bar.

“It’s time?” Arthur asked.

Isaac nodded “You’ll be ok in the meanwhile?”

“In a bar, with no one else around for miles? I’ll be fine.” Arthur said, turned around to the barkeep, and ordered another drink.

Isaac pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his breast pocket and put them on. His overall look was the standard explorer outfit, light clothing in pale colors and a hat with fabric that draped down the back of his neck.

It was normal, but also utterly superfluous for someone with Isaac’s Stats. It just felt right. And wasn’t that the darndest thing? Everyone just running around still pretending like they were normal, like they were human, even though it was, technically, a waste of time.

Isaac could regenerate his eyes, but even staring straight into the sun from sunup to sundown wouldn’t require him to do so.

He had a bed even though he could literally fall asleep mid-step and be fully recovered before he hit the ground.

Hell, he even put on more clothing in winter, even though he could have easily run around but-naked and been fine.

Was it merely habit, or were people desperately clinging to the illusion that they were still human? Something unpleasant to think about, that was for sure.

More unpleasant, though, was the wasteland Isaac was walking into. The bar he’d just left was the only thing around for several kilometers, with only abandoned huts and villages for company.

The only reason the bar was still inhabited was the fact that it served as a base camp for expeditions into the wasteland and was making a lot of money based on that. Oh, and because of the enchantment that kept out the radiation, which kept the place habitable.

Isaac himself didn’t need to worry about the effects of a month-old explosion, but it still felt utterly wrong to be walking toward the site of a nuclear detonation. As he got closer, more and more signs of devastation became visible.

Blackened trees and withered vegetation had been present practically since the moment he left the bar, but as he got closer, the area became more and more desolate.

Boulders tossed through the air, leaving behind long trails in the ground were eventually replaced by a vast expanse of dirt and dust, where nothing larger had survived.

Eventually, Isaac reached the edge of a vast crater, looking down to see the strangest site.

A Korean man, in regular desert clothing, playing with his dog, a large but adorable Pitbull.

Exactly the person he wanted to see. Not someone who was easy to find, and even harder to find when he wasn’t in a top-secret government facility

“Good afternoon,” Isaac called out and jumped, sliding down the side of the crater while trailing dust.

“Good afternoon.” The man responded, looking Isaac up and down “Can I ask what it is you’re looking for here?”

“It’s a [Dangerous World] out there.

“[Darkness Reigns] and shadows gather,

“[Tyranny Beaks] and [Tyrants Die],

“[All See] the [Kingdom Come].”

Isaac recited. It was a poem of sorts, one he’d heard in the other timeline, based on the [Skills] of the man standing before him.

In fact, it was built right into his [Class], a poem that had appeared with the first Evolution [Class], offering to complete “poem”, with every subsequent [Class] going up in rarity until he finally reached a legendary with the third Evolution, as long as he kept taking the follow-up [Class]. Which he had, building himself into a tyranny-breaking force for the ages.

Han Junu, the man who’d single-handedly destroyed the North Korean nuclear program, then played a pivotal role in the Seoul incident by using the twin [Skills] of [Tyranny Breaks] to shatter the Demon Lords' powerful attack and [Tyrants Die] to temporarily weaken the [Raid Boss’] innate survival capabilities at a critical moment.

Next to him, the Pitbull still lay on her back, happily gazing up into the sky with her tongue hanging out. No one would ever think to imagine this dog had eaten several dozen nuclear warheads and the materials to make more, nor that she was able to burn that to fuel a terrifying transformation that allowed her to stand against armies. Han’s [Skill], [Dangerous World] had combined the two most dangerous things in his life, his dog and nukes.

“How do you know those names?” Han asked, guard instantly up, ready to fight or run.

“Research.” Isaac responded “You’re a hard man to find, Dr. Han. I suppose you must be pretty busy, given your unique skillset.”

“And what do you want from me?” Han asked, still guarded. Perhaps Isaac hadn’t taken the gentlest of approaches with him, but the issue was that his conversation partner was understandably very cautious, what with having grown up in North Korea and having been forced to work on its nuclear weapons program as an adult. The slow approach would just have sparked his paranoia, on the other hand, the direct approach was something that might work, based on what he’d heard on the other timeline.

A lifetime of cutthroat politics, dodging secret police, and having to navigate byzantine mazes of rules and regulations that might change at the drop of a hat, where a single mistake would have cost him his life … directness might just work.

“I’d like you to help me save the world.” Isaac said bluntly “I understand that you’ve had to do more than your fair share towards that end already, but I’m afraid our problems are just beginning.”

“And what exactly is it that you understand, Dr. Thoma?” Han asked.

So Han did know who he was, good.

“That you’ve spent your entire life under one of the worst dictatorships on planet Earth, in close proximity to the unstable dictator who leads it, forced to build his weapons. You not only destroyed those weapons when you left, you also saved a lot of lives when the [Raid Boss] attacked Seoul. Now, you work for the government of South Korea, lending your skills to supporting its military and cleaning up the occasional irradiated wasteland.” Isaac said.

“One of the worst?” Han asked once again, voice dangerous “Who do you think is worse?”

“Who is worse? The madman who threatens to declare war on the whole world? The dictator who creates a working system but abuses individuals to satiate his own twisted desires? Or the man whose cruelty is absentminded, casual, who does not abuse anyone directly but plunges his whole country into despair and poverty by not creating any infrastructure? At some point, there is no ‘worst’, just bad enough to need to be taken down.” Isaac said.

Han cracked a slight smile “Well said. Is that whom you want to save the world from, Dr. Thoma? Tyrants, dictators, and despots?”

“I wish.” Isaac shook his head “I won’t lie, there is a lot of evil in the world, but right now, my comrades and I are focusing on the immediate issues that have the potential to end the world.”

“And those would be? Your hypothesis on how the world will be swallowed up by monsters?” Han asked, “It’s an interesting idea, and it's plausible, but don’t you think it might be a bit of a reach?”

“If I could prove it, would you help me?” Isaac answered with a question of his own.

“Unless you have a dead world to show me, true proof might be tricky,” Han observed and Isaac chuckled dryly.

“Oh, you’d be surprised what you can find in the depths of the [System]. So tell me, can you keep a secret?”

It was a stupid question, of course, someone who’d grown up in an environment like Han knew the value of keeping his trap shut, even when there was no implicit threat involved. And even if he did spill the beans, at this point, the problems caused would be limited. Isaac had enough backing to keep his family safe from the fallout and he would be able to weather the issue as well. If nothing else, people knew the value of his work and someone would always be willing to hire him.

Isaac cast his privacy [Skill] and revealed his hidden title.

Isaac “Last Survivor” Thoma

The bearer of this title has survived a timeline in which humanity died out, only to return through time for a second chance.

See further details?

Y/N

Han’s jaw dropped. Actually dropped, if only for a moment. The Pitbull stopped playing in the sand and wandered over to her owner, nudging him with her nose. He sighed and rubbed the top of her head.

Then, he fixed Isaac with a piercing stare as the magic around him flickered. [All See] was meant to be used to reveal the darkness of a system to, well, everyone, granting them the insight to see through all the lies and deceit. However, it was entirely possible to focus all that into a single person, the [Skill’s] bearer, to create one of the strongest truth-telling powers in existence. Between the headache that was soon to follow and the cooldown, investigative [Classes] were better overall, but as far as single [Skill] was concerned, [All See] was unbeaten.

“Here I was thinking my life was rough.” Han sighed shaking his head “So, the world is even more screwed up than I thought. But why should I work with you instead of my current employers?”

It didn’t sound like he believed in the question either. Approaching someone sincerely, with honesty, and offering a persuasive argument for cooperation could work, or it might just raise their guard. It would most likely raise their guard, backfiring rather conclusively.

That idea got flipped on its head when such things as reliable ways of truth-telling were in play. No weasel words to mess things up, no complicated sentences that were harder to untangle than the Gordian Knot of yore, just the blunt truth.

“How long did it take you to get permission to come out here?” Isaac asked, “The [Raid Boss] was blown up months ago.”

“That’s your argument? Bureaucracy’s slow? I’d rather deal with that than live in a country where no one can tell who owns what house, where streets don’t have names and houses don’t have numbers because no one bothered to catalog anything?” Han asked acerbically.

“No. My argument is that your new employers are biased towards protecting their own nation. But no nation can survive if the rest of the world falls.” Isaac said.

“Interesting point.” Han said as he pulled a ball out of thin air, threw it for his dog to chase, and asked, almost nonchalantly “So, you want to save the world from itself? What makes you so sure you can? What have you improved from the last time around?”

Isaac grinned internally. At this point, Han was just interviewing him like a potential employer.

So he explained everything. From how LA had not been reduced to ashes to the various “timebombs” he’d defused.

“And after all that, the world is still in danger.” Han sighed and shook his head “There’s always more people who’ll choose their greed over everyone else.”

“Unfortunately.” Isaac agreed and pulled an orb from his spatial storage that burned with an inner fire, then tossed it to Han “I’ll be in the bar for a few hours with my companion, if you change your mind after that, you know where to find me.”

Han caught the orb easily enough but almost dropped it when he saw what Isaac had just given him.

“Like I said, I owe you for Seoul,” Isaac said, waving as he walked up the side of the crater. Getting his hands on a spare Aspect of the Least Demon Lord hadn’t been easy, but he’d managed it.

“Wait,” Han called after him, so Isaac teleported right back down to him. It wasn’t something he did often, but it could look damn impressive in the right situation. This was a right situation.

“If you walk around with things this expensive all the time, why didn’t you mention how much you’re clearly willing to pay?” Han said, sounding genuinely puzzled.

Isaac chuckled dryly “A man of your talent can get money from everywhere, and money can buy everything. Except for a few things, like true safety, or power. So that’s what I offered.”

Han nodded “I see. And just who is your companion, who did you drag all the way out here?”

“Arthur, the legendary king of England who walks the Earth once more. The man whose [Skills], whose Round Table is beyond nation or alignment, above the petty squabbles that ruin international cooperation normally. His power allows the members of the Round Table to share abilities. I figured he might come in handy if you agreed to join us.” Isaac announced.

“So he’s your boss, then?” Han was suddenly right back on the defensive.

“It’s the round table because no one sits at its head, no one is in charge. It’s a group of equals, all with the goal of saving the world.” Isaac said, “Any more questions before [All See] runs out?”

Han raised an eyebrow.

“I can see [Skills] when they’re activated.”

A few questions later, two people and a dog were walking through an irradiated wasteland. The mood might have been somber under other situations, but here and now, there was a dog playfully prancing around the pair.

“What’s her name?” Isaac asked.

“Dasom,” Han said. It meant love and was the perfect name for a dog that friendly.

Returning from the center of the blast site was a bittersweet affair. Slowly seeing nature return, the first living things other than the three of them coming into view was nice, yet it was a constant reminder of the devastation that had been caused by human hands.

First, the [Raid Boss], followed by the nuclear strike that had taken it down.

One vigorous petting session with the dog later, Isaac was no longer setting off the Geiger counter located outside the bar.

“Dr. Han, it’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard good things.” Arthur greeted the newcomer, thrusting out his hand “Arthur Wells, I’m in charge of Camelot.”

“Likewise.” Han said as they shook “Dr. Han Junu, currently cleaning up a radioactive crater.”

Isaac let the two get acquainted for a bit, and then, another warrior joined the ranks of the Round Table.

Han headed back to the crater after a while, carrying with him the shade of Steff Cooke, one of Camelot’s strongest warriors. He’d also said he’d try to see if he could work together with Bailey’s team some time. That would be interesting.

“So, that was the real world ‘My dog ate my homework?” Arthur asked.

“When his story came out, there was the newspaper headline ‘Dear Leader, my dog at the nukes’,” Isaac said with a chuckle.

“Interesting fellow. Where are we going after this?” Arthur asked “We’ve already allied with the gaggle of kooks living on the south pole, signed a dozen contracts that will apparently net us invaluable materials down the road, and added two new superstars to the round table. What’s up next?”

“Back to Camelot, and hope that Elena doesn’t kill us for staying away so long,” Isaac said in the most serious voice he could manage. Arthur chuckled and leaned out of the privacy field to order yet another beer.

Isaac grinned. Between Arthur and himself, they’d had both the means and the star power to strike several vital deals. It had taken over a week of constant travel, and the trip had taken even longer when Isaac learned he’d get a chance to talk to Han, but they’d vastly improved humanity’s chances.