"Rowen."
His name echoes across the field.
He steps forward.
The line behind him shifts. He ignores the murmurs and fixes his eyes on the Awakening Device — a towering structure of obsidian stone and silver veins, humming with stored mana. Its faint glow reflects in his eyes.
Rowen walks toward it, hands cold despite the sun. His mind is blank — not with calm, but with the kind of fear that swallows thought.
He places his hand against the stone.
A subtle warmth trickles through his fingertips.
Then... nothing.
The device hums, as it always does, but no runes light up. No surge of energy. No mark of path or potential. Just the quiet, steady pulse of mana within the device — unchanged
Rowen's brow furrows. He presses harder. Tries to focus.
He feels something stir. Faint. Fuzzy. Like a thread brushing the edge of his mind.
But before he can grasp it—
"Step aside," the instructor says, tone clipped.
Rowen hesitates, hand still on the stone. "Wait, I—"
"You're done," the instructor cuts in.
He pulls his hand back slowly. His chest is tight.
He turns and walks away under the weight of a thousand eyes.
Whispers trail behind him.
"Failed?"
"No reaction?"
"Not even a glow?"
He sits back in the group, staring at his palm.
Unseen to him — far beneath the skin, past flesh and bone — a mote of mana pulses softly.
Awakened.
But unnoticed.
The last name is called. The final student steps back from the Awakening Device.
It powers down with a soft hum, the silver veins fading to dark.
A tall instructor steps forward — not a local teacher, but someone from the federal division. His uniform bears the crest of the central Govrnment. His presence alone silences the crowd.
He speaks, voice calm but firm. "To all students — the Awakening phase is now complete."
A pause. His eyes scan across the field, stopping nowhere in particular.
"Those of you who have awakened a Path — Mage, Knight, Tamer, or otherwise — congratulations. You've taken your first step. But understand this clearly: awakening is not enough."
He gestures toward the horizon. "In six months' time, you will face the Annual Examination. This includes written testing, a wilderness hunt, and direct competition. Your strength, control, decision-making, and survival instincts will be tested."
"Your scores will determine your ranking. The highest-ranked students will be eligible for selection by institutions like the Federal University and top-tier private academies. Opportunities that decide the course of your life."
Murmurs ripple through the crowd — half excitement, half fear.
The instructor continues, "As for those who did not awaken — don't despair. You still have time to grow. Focus on your written exams and prepare for the Practical Assessment. Every year, some who awaken late or perform exceptionally still earn spots in good academies. Discipline, theory, strategy — these matter as much as raw power."
Rowen sits quietly, the instructor's words echoing inside him.
Rowen says nothing.
He stares at the device — cold and dim now.
A dull weight settles in his chest.
He didn't awaken.
And just like that, all the excitement he'd carried for years… faded.
He had no interest in examinations, in rankings, in any of it.
Not anymore.
Students begin dispersing, talking in excited clusters — some celebrating, others comparing their newly awakened Paths. Laughter, shouts, tears… a mix of emotions swirl in the late afternoon air.
Rowen walks in silence.
Calen catches up to him. "Rowen… hey. Wait up."
Rowen doesn't stop. Calen matches his pace.
"I know how it feels," Calen says gently. "You gave everything for this."
Rowen exhales through his nose, not looking at him. "It wasn't enough."
"You don't know that," Calen replies. "Some awaken late. Some go unnoticed. Maybe it's—"
"I don't want maybes," Rowen cuts him off, voice sharp but not loud. "I didn't come here for sympathy."
There's an awkward pause.
Calen swallows. "I'm not trying to pity you. Just... maybe come by tonight? For dinner. Mom's making stew, and she always liked you. You don't have to talk. Just… sit, eat. Be there."
Rowen slows for a moment, then shakes his head.
"Thanks," he mutters. "But not tonight."
Calen doesn't argue.
He just gives a quiet nod. "Alright. But if you change your mind, you know where we live."
Rowen turns away and walks off — away from the other students, away from the fading light, away from it all.
His boots crunch the dry path as he heads back toward the empty shop.
The wind picks up slightly
He feels hollow.
His entire life had revolved around one belief — that he would awaken, prove himself, and find a place in this world.
But now?
It all felt like ash slipping through his fingers.
By the time Rowen got home, the sky was painted with hues of deep orange. He hadn't opened the shop. He hadn't spoken to anyone.
He locked the door behind him and sat quietly at the small table, the old wooden box resting before him. His fingers trembled slightly as he undid the latch and lifted the lid.
Inside were two items.
A stone—pitch black, darker than shadow, almost absorbing the light around it. And a pendant, simple and unadorned, made of an unknown silvery metal with a strange warmth to its touch.
He stared at the stone. It resembled a mana crystal, but not like any he'd ever seen.
He picked up his phone, opened the Mana Nexus Terminal (M-NET) — the digital mana database accessible to everyone post-Awakening. Even those who didn't awaken could log in, though with restrictions.
:: Welcome to M-NET ::
:: [Browse Library] [Public Ranks] [BattleNet] [Awakened Paths Overview] [Entertainment] ::
He ignored the flashy menus and typed into the search bar:
"Pitch black mana crystal"
Dozens of entries loaded. Most were irrelevant.
= Low-tier blackened mana stones scorched in corrupted dungeons.
= Decorative obsidian imitations.
= Unstable stones rumored to be cursed.
Then one caught his eye.
"Void-Tier Crystal: Extremely rare. Unconfirmed origin. Said to contain raw mana density exceeding all known crystal classifications. Rare specimens show signs of instability, often locked by ancient seals. Not usable by unawaken individuals. Highly dangerous."
His eyes widened.
"Void-tier…?"
He glanced at the stone again. It pulsed faintly in the dark like it was breathing.
He set the phone down.
Then noticed something tucked beneath the cloth lining of the box. A folded letter. His heart skipped.
He unfolded it with care, the old paper crinkling in his hands.