The Academy's central hall thrummed with energy. Hundreds of students gathered beneath the crystalline dome, mana streams flowing through the ceiling like living rivers of light. The evaluation stage stood at the center, a raised platform inscribed with runes that glowed faintly in anticipation.
"Form a line!" the instructor barked, his robes flowing as his staff struck the stone floor. "Today we measure your mana aptitude and aura resonance. This will decide your placement within the Academy."
The line shuffled forward, names called one by one. Students placed their hands on the crystal orb at the center of the stage, releasing mana into it. The orb flared—sometimes brightly, sometimes weakly—and scores were announced to murmurs of approval or disappointment.
Arin waited silently, eyes fixed on the floor. He felt their stares. To most, he was nobody—a quiet boy from nowhere, always blending into the background. But even in silence, the unease gnawed at him.
The whisper inside stirred again.
Calibration incomplete.
Mana output: suppressed.
His chest tightened. What did that even mean?
"Next—Arin."
The name echoed louder than it should have. He climbed the steps, every pair of eyes on him.
The crystal orb pulsed faintly, waiting.
He placed his hand on it.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Students smirked. Kian's laughter rang from the crowd. "Pathetic."
Then—
The orb erupted in light.
Mana surged wildly, the orb's glow swelling beyond control, runes on the floor flaring one by one as if awakening from a long slumber. Wind whipped across the hall, students shielding their eyes.
Arin staggered back, his heart hammering. He hadn't done anything. He hadn't even pushed.
The whispers grew louder, clearer.
Synchronization: 7%.
Adaptation speed increased.
Suppressing excess output…
The glow abruptly dimmed, collapsing into nothing as though it had never existed.
Gasps filled the hall. The instructor's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on his staff. "Strange… the reading is unstable."
"Unstable?" Kian sneered from below. "That's just a nice way of saying defective."
Lira, standing at the far end, watched silently. Her expression unreadable, but her gaze lingered on Arin longer than anyone else's.
Later, outside the hall, Arin sat on the stone steps, head in his hands.
"What was that…?" he whispered. He could still feel the echo of the surge inside him, wild and unfamiliar, like something alive was shifting beneath his skin.
The voice whispered again, softer this time.
Do not fear. Growth requires change.
He shivered. No one else could hear it. No one else could understand.
And for the first time, Arin wondered—
Was he truly himself at all?
✨ End of Chapter 3