An hour and a half.
That was how long Bari had to endure the torture these people called an introduction ceremony. He liked to think of himself as reasonably calm , and measured person, but after ninety minutes of watching one boy twitch compulsively at the corner of the hall, another ramble without pause, and several dozen more shifting and whispering like restless cattle, he was convinced he despised every soul in that room.
By the end, he found himself silently begging for a calamity to happen and bring an end to his suffering.
"Bring in an unholy titan. Let the walls fall. Anything, please—just end this nightmare."
Bari was as stoic as a statue during the entire meeting, however if someone was to hear his thoughts, they would instantly lock him up for treasonous thoughts, surely thinking he was a nightmare creature in disguise.
When the last droning speech concluded and the crowd began to thin, he left with something almost resembling relief.
Following the instructions sent to his communicator, Bari made his way to the dormitories on one of the lowest levels of the compound. His assigned room was small by noble standards, but he found himself strangely content at the sight.
A single bed with a soft mattress, a desk, a dresser, and a private bathroom. The air was crisp, sterile, faintly perfumed by the ventilation system. Warmth radiated from hidden panels in the walls. The far surface displayed a panoramic window of a snow-dusted park, though a discreet button pressed at the frame revealed it for what it was—a projection screen. He turned it off immediately, preferring the comfort of blank alloy.
On the dresser lay several neatly folded uniforms marked with the Academy's emblem, all standard issue for Sleepers.
"How ordinary. How pleasant," Bari thought, a small, genuine smile softening his face for the first time since his arrival. Of all the things he had expected to find tolerable here, his room had not made the list. Yet here it was—the first thing he allowed himself to enjoy.
***
The next morning, he rose early, washed, and dressed with deliberate neatness. With a gloomy expression, he set out toward the cafeteria. His reasoning was simple: arrive before the others, eat in silence, and escape before the crush of bodies arrived.
Sure enough, the cafeteria was empty when he entered. A lone staff member moved behind the counter, prepping trays and warmers for the coming flood of Sleepers.
Bari accepted the food without comment. He wasn't surprised by the quality—it was far above average, but nothing unfamiliar. As a legacy of the Immortal Flame Clan, he had been fed the finest since infancy to ensure his growth. Rich grains, essence-rich meats, nutrient blends. Food was fuel, carefully calibrated.
But the Academy offered more than food.
Counselling, for one. Every Sleeper was required to undergo mandatory psychological assessment. Participation was technically optional, but refusal required a formal in-person denial, followed inevitably by probing questions about one's Aspect.
Bari knew he could not afford to reveal his truth. Divine Aspects were rare enough to inspire awe—and violence. For a commoner, the reward of disclosure might outweigh the risk. But for him? He and his sister were already targets. He knew silence was survival.
Still, secrecy did not mean complete refusal. He would share enough to satisfy without drawing unwanted suspicion. One such piece was his true name: Will-Born.
Names held power, and true names held more. They were woven into essence itself, shaping reputation, influence, and even the weight of destiny. Revealing it was rarely dangerous—in fact, it often elevated one's standing. For Bari, it was a safe card to play.
***
By midday, after every new sleeper had been interviewed, the first leader board for the new batch of Sleepers was posted across the compound. It took less than ten minutes for chaos to spread through the halls.
Groups clustered around the glowing boards, voices rising in disbelief. Bari's name sat at the top, displayed in neat, impersonal text:
Name: Bari
True Name: Will-Born
The murmurs began as whispers, then built into sharp-edged exclamations.
"How… how can this be? He's only six! Not even seven yet!"
"You're seeing things. No child that age can outdo us—this has to be a mistake!"
"He's either impossibly lucky… or a monster wearing human skin."
"That's the Immortal Flame Clan for you. Always one step above the rest."
Bari heard and saw it all in passing, though he paid it little mind. His eyes caught the twitch of lips, the narrowing of gazes, the envy leaking through forced smiles. His eyes stored it silently, the way it did with all things.
Inside, however, a single thought surfaced: "Opportunity"