The next morning, I was summoned.
Not by a teacher.
By the system.
Yes, the system itself.
A message flashed at dawn, highlighted in red, while I was washing my face.
> [System Invitation: Abnormal Evaluation Trial detected]
> [Participant: Park Sung]
> [Location: Room D-13 (reserved)]
> [Time: 07:00]
> [Note: Refusal impossible.]
I stared at the screen for a long time.
Then exhaled slowly.
"...You just won't leave me alone, will you?"
The blade didn't answer, but it was there, in my mind. Silent. Present.
---
It was 6:57 when I arrived outside Room D-13.
Nobody in the hallway. Blinds drawn. No light.
I hesitated.
Then placed my hand on the handle.
CLACK.
The door opened by itself.
A pale light blinded me momentarily.
And I understood immediately.
This wasn't a normal room.
---
It was a Fracture.
One of those "distorted spaces" where the rules of the world falter. Normally, they're isolated, monitored, contained.
But this one... had been injected into the school.
The floor was black stone, cracked throughout. The ceiling didn't exist. Just a cloudy void, dark, stretching endlessly above. Blue torches floated in the air, without actual fire.
And facing me, a silhouette.
Tall. Slender. Human... but not quite.
A kind of mannequin in armor. Chains emerged from its back, suspended in emptiness like tentacles.
> [Spectral Survival Evaluation – Level 1]
> [Objective: Remain alive for 3 minutes]
> [Restrictions: No system bonuses / No external support]
I didn't even have time to breathe.
It charged.
---
I rolled to the side. Just before the chain struck the ground where I'd been standing.
BOOM.
The impact sent dust flying. Another chain approached. This time, I saw it coming.
I summoned the blade.
CLINK.
It appeared in my hand, clearer than ever before. Vibrant.
I tried to block.
Mistake.
The chain passed through my guard. Not physically—spiritually. Like an attack on my soul.
Excruciating pain exploded in my skull.
I fell.
But I got back up.
Too slow.
The silhouette struck me in the side. My breath was cut short. I dropped to my knees.
1 minute remaining.
"Damn it..."
I felt it then.
The sword... was stirring.
It didn't want me to fall.
I gripped it with both hands.
And shouted.
"Come on. I'm not finished yet."
---
Something snapped.
A sound in the air.
The monster's chains slowed.
A dark aura unfurled around me. It wasn't mine. It was hers. The sword's.
And a new ability activated.
> [Passive ability unlocked: "Reciprocity Zone"]
> All damage inflicted within a 2-meter radius is partially reflected back to the attacker.
The monster struck again.
But this time, it retreated.
As if it had sensed the effect. As if it... hesitated.
I charged.
First strike—dodged.
Second strike—feint.
Third strike—direct impact.
The tip of my blade severed one of its cables. A sound of torn metal resonated throughout the room.
It howled.
A non-human sound. Like a cry from another world.
---
3 minutes reached.
The environment froze.
The floor collapsed.
And I fell.
Again.
---
When I reopened my eyes, I was lying on my room's floor.
Breathless. Soaked in sweat. Heart pounding to the point of bursting.
> [Evaluation completed.]
> [Result: Unstable but validated]
> [Status: Spectral Specimen registered]
> [Level: Still unassigned (partial lock)]
>
> Note: This player is non-compliant. Continuous observation required.
I smiled.
I hadn't won.
But I was no longer in the "nothing" category.
The news didn't take long to circulate.
Someone—I don't know who—saw my name displayed in the academy's internal records.
"Participant in an unlisted trial."
"Type: Spectral (to be confirmed)."
"Status: Special observation."
In one night, I'd gone from ignored ghost to monitored anomaly.
I didn't like it.
The following morning, I encountered more glances in ten minutes than during the first two weeks.
Some were curious.
Others... wary.
And then there was him.
Tall, muscular, with a calm expression. His uniform worn perfectly. He stopped in front of me in the courtyard, blocking my path as if it were nothing.
"You're Park Sung?"
I didn't respond. I just looked at him.
He smiled.
Not a friendly smile.
The smile of someone testing waters.
"My name is Min Jae. Class A. Level 15. Elemental."
A pause.
"I heard you passed a trial... solo? That's funny. Usually, the classless ones collapse after the first attack."
Still nothing from me.
I didn't need to answer.
But he wanted something.
He leaned slightly forward, until he was whispering.
"Tell me... did you cheat?"
My hand tensed up. The urge to draw the blade was instinctive. But I held back.
He sensed it.
He stepped back, still wearing that same smirk.
"Be careful, specter. The school doesn't like calculation errors."
Then he left.
Min Jae.
I didn't yet know what he wanted.
But he wasn't there by chance.
And the strangest thing was that the blade had reacted to his presence. As if it recognized him.
Or feared him.
The day continued normally—or almost.
In theory class, some students changed seats when they saw me enter. Others tried to talk to me, without really asking real questions. Just to "see."
I did what I know how to do: ignore.
But at the end of class, I received another notification.
> [Temporary access granted: Combat Simulator – Custom level]
> [Duration: 20 minutes / Active monitoring]
I went there.
Not to impress.
To understand.
The combat simulator was a white room, almost clinical. Everything was generated by magic and technology. An AI adjusted enemies to your level.
Except that I... didn't have a level.
The artificial voice asked me:
"Do you want to load your specter?"
"Yeah," I murmured.
The blade appeared effortlessly.
And the AI responded:
"Anomaly detected. Partial synchronization accepted."
The scenery changed.
Dark ruins. Purple fog. Ground cracking beneath footsteps.
An opponent formed.
A "corrupted hunter."
Dual blade. High speed.
And this time, the pain was real.
The fight didn't last.
Not because I won easily.
Because the blade... acted on its own.
For half a second, it vibrated. And I started to move. Not by choice. By guided instinct.
I saw through the enemy's movements.
I struck at the exact moment his guard opened.
And I pierced him through.
A single blow.
> [Effect activated: "Phantom Link"]
> Strike delivered through the soul breach. Total reduction of spiritual defense.
The hunter disintegrated.
The simulation stopped abruptly.
> [Test terminated. Automatic interruption by monitoring unit.]
> [Reason: Risk of psychic instability of the bearer.]
I remained standing, panting.
No injury.
But a weight on my soul.
The blade was pushing me. Not to become stronger.
To become something else.
And I knew one thing: the system would not control what was happening to me.
---
When night fell, I sat on my bed and stared at the dark corner of my room where the sword had first appeared.
"What are you?" I whispered, not expecting an answer.
The blade materialized across my lap, not summoned by me but seemingly responding to my thoughts. Its black metal caught no light, absorbing even the faint glow from my desk lamp.
I ran my finger along its edge—not sharp in the conventional sense. It didn't cut my skin, but I felt something deeper, like a cold finger tracing my spine.
> [Bond level: Deepening]
> [Synchronization: 26%]
> [Warning: Spectral contamination detected. Progression inevitable.]
Contamination? What did that mean?
I'd heard rumors about weapons bonding with their wielders. Legendary items that changed their users over time. But those were just stories told to first-years. Nobody actually believed them.
Yet here I was, holding something that wasn't just a weapon but a... presence.
A sharp knock at my door interrupted my thoughts.
I dismissed the blade instantly, watching it dissolve into shadow wisps before calling out, "Who is it?"
No answer. Just another knock.
I approached cautiously, pressing my ear against the door. Nothing.
When I opened it, the hallway was empty. But on the floor lay a folded note:
*"Special observation subjects report to the Western Archives tomorrow at 04:00. Come alone. Authorization code: Spectral-09."*
No signature. No official stamp.
This wasn't from the administration.
I picked up the note, feeling its weight. Real paper—expensive and rarely used. Someone wanted to meet me, and they didn't want any digital record of the invitation.
The blade stirred in my mind, a distant ringing like wind chimes in a storm.
It was warning me.
But I already knew I would go. Not because I trusted the sender, but because for the first time since failing the Awakening, I had questions that might actually have answers.
As I closed the door, I caught a glimpse of movement at the end of the hallway—a shadow slipping around the corner. Too fast to identify, but deliberate enough to know I was being watched.
The Western Archives at 4 AM.
Whatever awaited me there, I wouldn't be going as the same scared, classless nobody who'd failed his Awakening. I'd be going as something new.
Something the system hadn't accounted for.
I sat back on my bed and closed my eyes, trying to focus on the blade's presence in my mind. If I was walking into danger, I needed to understand my only weapon better.
"Show me," I whispered. "Show me what you can really do."
And for the first time since our bond formed, I felt something like laughter echo in the darkness of my thoughts.
Not human laughter.
Not kind.
But somehow, deeply familiar.