Demonic Po*nstar System

Chapter 345: Humanity in Panic

Sarah stared blankly out her window, her phone still clutched in her hand, though the broadcast had ended minutes ago.

”Survive and thrive... if you can.”

The words of the strange, unseen woman rang over and over in her skull, too vast and too heavy to process. They weren’t just sounds—they were a decree, something carved into her very marrow. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Then—

”AHHHH!”

Her mother’s scream snapped her free. Sarah jolted upright, heart hammering, and bolted from her room. Her bare feet pounded down the wooden steps, carrying her into the living room.

Her mother stood by the television, trembling, face pale as death. ”W-What was that?! What was that voice?!”

Sarah felt the same ice crawl up her spine, but instinct took over. She darted to the window, snapping the curtains shut and shoving the lock down before dragging a chair in front of it. Then another. Then she turned to the door, pulling the heavy coat rack and wedging it against the frame.

”Sarah?!” her mother choked, voice breaking. ”What are you doing?”

Sarah’s fingers were trembling, but her movements were sure. ”All that I can,” she said grimly.

She spun on her heel, rushing into the small kitchen pantry. Relief flooded her chest at the sight of stacked boxes, canned food, and bottled water. Weeks—maybe months’ worth, all hoarded from her old job’s paychecks when she’d obsessed over the idea of ’being ready.’ Everyone had laughed at her back then. Now, she was glad she never stopped.

They could survive.

Dragging her mother by the wrist, she pulled her to the couch in the living room and pressed her down firmly. ”Sit. Don’t move.” She did the same herself, her own legs nearly giving out beneath her.

Her breathing came ragged, but her mind still ticked. With a thought, her media platform flickered to life before her eyes, translucent windows of the social stream filling her vision. She scrolled on instinct, searching for something—anything—familiar.

Her lips parted when she saw it.

”Valhalla’s Sinners – LIVE.”

Her favorite streamers. Kaiden and his women.

”They... they only planned to go live in an hour,” Sarah whispered. ”Why...?”

She opened the broadcast with a shaky breath.

But Sarah wasn’t alone.

The mysterious woman’s voice had shaken the very bones of the world. Every man, woman, and child had heard it. There was no corner of Earth spared, no language barrier softening its weight. And when her decree ended, humanity collectively shifted into panic.

Governments scrambled, news stations blacked out under surges of chaos, and the non-awakened, the powerless masses, could do nothing but retreat into their homes, their shelters, their corners of safety. They weren’t warriors; they weren’t hunters. They had no weapons or supernatural powers to protect themselves, only fear and instinct that drove their survival.

So they did the only thing they could.

Gather information.

They turned to the awakened media platform.

Streams flared to life in numbers never seen before. Millions became tens of millions, and tens of millions became hundreds of millions, flooding into the live feeds of awakened fighters. People who had once never cared, never clicked, never bothered, now clung to those glowing windows like lifelines. The awakened were their eyes, their soldiers, their only chance at understanding what had just descended upon Earth.

And amidst the tidal wave of humanity seeking answers, Sarah’s trembling fingers pressed open on one stream in particular.

Valhalla’s Sinners – LIVE.

Her world lurched.

The feed was chaos. Pure, unfiltered chaos. The city skyline was broken by fire and smoke, the camera whipping with dizzying speed as the Valkyries’ bodycams struggled to keep pace. Shouts tore through the feed, drowned in the sounds of explosions, of collapsing buildings, of magic clashing against steel.

Kaiden was there, swinging his greatsword in a streak of crimson fury as it cleaved through masked attackers. To his side, Luna’s lightning cracked, filling the air with thunderous snaps. Bastet’s sunfire detonated into molten brilliance, swallowing enemy squads whole, while Nyx twisted space like a cruel artist, rending reality apart in shimmering fractures. Aria’s pale moonlight flared, washing the battlefield with dazzling beams.

Sarah’s heart stopped, for she knew.

This wasn’t entertainment.

This wasn’t staged.

This wasn’t a raid or a dungeon dive with dramatic commentary.

This was war.

”W-What is going on?!” she gasped as her hands snapped to her lips. She’d watched them laugh, flirt, banter, crush monsters for the thrill of it. But this... these weren’t streamers. These were executioners, carving their way through flesh and flame.

Her question didn’t even have time to linger.

Because behind the battle, something shifted.

The dungeon gate.

Sarah’s blood froze as the large structure distorted with a blinding light. Like water boiling over, the portal seethed, and then...

It stepped through.

A creature unlike anything she had ever seen. Horned. Towering. Its flesh was adorned with scales of shining obsidian, its limbs stretched with claws long enough to carve through cars. Its eyes were pits of burning hunger.

It tilted its head back and released a roar.

A monstrous, victorious roar that shook the very city to its foundations.

Sarah’s hands stifled her scream as tears of shock welled in her eyes. The sound rattled her bones, rattled her very soul.

And then...

The swarm of smaller creatures of its kind followed.

One creature became many. They poured from the gate in a tide, their wings blotting out the sky, claws tearing into buildings before they even touched the ground.

Sarah couldn’t breathe.

This was it.

”The end of the grace period...”

She shot up so fast her chair toppled backward. ”Mom, help me!” She shouted before yanking more furniture to the windows. The couch scraped across the floorboards, wedged tight beneath the window frames. Another table was shoved against the front door until it groaned under the strain. Every curtain sealed tight. Every lock was checked, then checked again with shaking hands.

Her breath came in sharp, frantic bursts.

Only when her muscles burned and her mother’s shaken eyes followed her every movement did Sarah stumble back, collapsing to the ground. She drew her legs up and wrapped her arms tightly around her knees.

She forced her eyes back to the stream. To them.

The chaos still raged across the screen, where Kaiden, his Valkyries, and Bastet were all cutting through death itself. And despite the terror in her chest, her lips moved, trembling, whispering the only name that came to her.

”Kai...”

Her forehead dropped against her knees, but she couldn’t look away. Not now. Not when the world was ending.

...

Kaiden’s crimson blade tore through flesh and bone in a single, brutal swing.

The masked man didn’t even have time to scream before his body split apart, collapsing into two ruined halves.

[You’ve slain Ashatush (Level 31).]

[You’ve gained 6109 XP.]

Kaiden’s eyes flickered to the notification, just for a heartbeat.

The kill feed never gave a full name. Not unless you already knew it. For normal enemies, it was always just a given name, while for monsters, not even that. Only their species were shown, save for boss monsters.

But if you learned who your enemies were, if the truth was in your mind when you struck the killing blow... then the system would engrave it in stone. Whether that was out of some sense of order or as a strange support for those trying to conceal the identities of their pawns, no one knew.

But right now, Kaiden didn’t care.