The Awakening Center resembled a casino more than a government facility—bright lights, anxious faces, and the distinct feeling that most people were about to lose everything they'd hoped for.
Families clustered in tight groups, praying to whatever deity might be listening that their precious offspring would hit the genetic jackpot.
Trent stood in line, sandwiched between his mother and younger sister, trying not to vomit from anxiety. At twenty-two, he was older than most first-timers here, having delayed his Awakening test to work three jobs supporting his family after his father's death. His calloused hands fidgeted with the worn cuffs of his only decent shirt.
"Number 127! Trent!" The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, somehow managing to sound both bored and judgmental.
His mother squeezed his arm. "This is it, Trent! Our family's future!" Her eyes glistened with hope, the kind that made Trent's stomach twist. She'd already planned how to spend his future hunter salary, including moving them out of their crumbling apartment where the ceiling leaked directly onto his bed during rainstorms.
His sixteen-year-old sister, Karen, bounced on her toes. "Get an S-class, oppa! Then you can buy me those limited-edition sneakers!"
"I'll try to factor your footwear into my genetic awakening," Trent muttered, earning a playful punch from Karen.
All around them, the celebration and devastation created a bizarre emotional whiplash. To his right, a family hugged their sobbing teenage son, who apparently had awakened as an A-rank healing mage. To his left, a girl about Karen's age was being consoled by stone-faced parents after receiving no class at all—meaning she'd join the 92% of "ordinary" citizens doomed to regular jobs and waste incomes.
The awakening statistics were brutal and common knowledge: only 8% of the population manifested abilities. Of those, less than 0.1% achieved the coveted S-rank. Most awakened fell into the D or C categories, with enough power to join hunter guilds but not enough to become celebrities or earn the obscene salaries that S-rankers commanded.
Trent made his way to Testing Room 7, heart hammering. The room contained a large, black metallic orb standing upright at the center. Thick cables ran from its base into the walls.
The walls was sterile white with a computer room behind a glass panel. A technician in a lab coat gestured impatiently.
"Place your hands on the activation pads," the technician instructed, not bothering to look up from his tablet. Trent obeyed, wincing as metal cuffs automatically closed around his wrists.
"Is this necessary?" he asked, trying to keep the tremor from his voice.
"Some awakenings are... violent," the technician explained with disturbing nonchalance. "Last week a fire mage burn half the testing equipment. It was an Insurance nightmare."
Trent swallowed hard. "Great."
"Just hold it steady and it will do the rest"
I want to be strong. Strong enough to protect Mom and Karen. Strong enough to never worry about money again. Strong enough to make Dad proud.
Then... nothing. Just when Trent thought the machine had malfunctioned, the metallic orb began to glow brighter, the light penetrating his closed eyes. He could feel something moving inside him, a strange sensation he had never felt before. This is it. 'I am awakening'. He thought
After a minute that felt like eternity, the technician cleared his throat. "You can open your eyes now."
Trent's eyes flew open.
The technician stared at his readings, his expression morphing from boredom to something worse—pity.
"Water mage. E-rank," the technician announced flatly. He tapped something on his tablet. "Congratulations, I guess."
Trent blinked. "E-rank? That's... that's not even on the standard scale."
"It is now. We had to create it for cases like yours." The technician sighed. "Your ability appears to be...creating approximately one cup of water per day and sensing nearby water sources within a three-meter radius."
Trent stared at his hands. "So I can... make half a cup of water?"
The technician gave him a sympathetic look. "Look on the bright side kid. You awakened. Ninety-nine percent failed, they couldn't."
"But what can I do with this? Can I join a Hunter Guild? Fight monsters?" Trent asked, desperate for answers.
The technician snorted before catching herself. "Sorry. No. E-ranks aren't combat-capable. You might get work with an agricultural company. Or maybe a plumbing service? Water detection can be... useful."
Trent felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Plumbing?"
"Or bottled water quality testing. There are options," the technician said while resetting the Awakening device for the next person. "Congratulations again. Please exit through the door on your right."
The cuffs released, and Trent stumbled from back. His knees felt like jelly as he exited the testing room to face his waiting family.
The moment his mother saw his face, her smile faltered. "Trent? What happened? What did you get?"
"Water mage," he mumbled. "E-rank."
She hugged him. "Oh, honey. It's okay. You awakened! That's still something to be proud of."
Karen said, her expectations dimming slightly. "Water Mage? That's... cool. Water is important, right? What can you do with it?"
"Find leaky pipes," Trent said bitterly. "Make enough water to fill a coffee cup. Real superhero stuff."
His mother rubbed his back gently. "Let's go home and celebrate. I made your favorite noodles."
Trent might have laughed if he weren't busy holding back tears. Twenty-two years old, the family's sole provider, and all he had to show for it was the ability to produce enough water to fill a shot glass.
Before he could answer, the center's PA system announced the results for all to hear: "Trent, E-rank Water Mage. Minimal practical application."
The crowd parted around them like they were contagious. Some families shot pitying glances; others seemed relieved that at least their children weren't the biggest losers of the day.
Trent pulled away. "I'm not hungry."
"Trent, wait!" his mother called after him. "It's okay! We'll figure something out!"
As he pushed through the doors, he passed a family taking photos with their son.
"Our Jin woo will be making seven figures by next year!" the father boasted loudly.
Trent quickened his pace. Rain had started to fall, cold and steady, blending with the tears streaming down his cheeks. He yanked his jacket up over his head—not sure if he was shielding from the weather, or from the world.