The great hall of House Blackthorne stretched before Ryo like a cathedral dedicated to the worship of noble bloodlines. Massive stone pillars supported a vaulted ceiling painted with scenes of heroic ancestors slaying dragons and conquering kingdoms. Banners bearing the family crest—a silver sword wreathed in black flames—hung from the walls like silent sentinels watching his every move.
It was intimidating as hell, which was probably the point.
Ryo's footsteps echoed against the polished marble floor as he made his way toward the raised dais where his family waited. The awakening stone sat in the center of the platform, a crystalline monolith that pulsed with inner light. It was beautiful and terrifying in equal measure, like everything else in this world that promised power at an unknown cost.
His father, Lord Marcus Blackthorne, stood with the rigid posture of a man who'd never doubted his place in the world. Tall, broad-shouldered, and possessed of the kind of natural authority that made lesser nobles scramble to agree with his every word. His dark hair was shot through with silver at the temples, and his eyes held the cold calculation of someone who viewed people as chess pieces to be moved around the board.
Next to him stood Lady Catherine, Ryo's mother, a woman of ethereal beauty whose gentle smile couldn't quite hide the worry lines around her eyes. She wore a gown of deep blue silk that complemented her auburn hair, and her hands were clasped tightly in front of her as if she were praying.
Ryo's two older brothers flanked their parents like bookends. Damien, the eldest, was a perfect copy of their father—commanding, confident, and already bearing the insignia of a knight-captain despite being only twenty-two. His awakening three years ago had been legendary, resulting in a Paladin class so powerful that the royal court had immediately extended an invitation for him to join the King's Guard.
Then there was Vincent, just eighteen months older than Ryo but already a master strategist whose Tactical Genius class had earned him a position as an advisor to the Duke of Westmarch. Where Damien was all brawn and holy fire, Vincent was cunning and calculation, his pale eyes constantly evaluating everything around him for weaknesses to exploit.
Both of them were staring at Ryo with expressions that ranged from mild curiosity to barely concealed disdain. They'd already proven their worth, claimed their places in the world. Now it was his turn to either join their ranks or confirm what everyone already suspected—that he was the family disappointment.
"Ryo." His father's voice carried across the hall like a judge's gavel. "You're late."
"Sorry," Ryo replied, not bothering to offer an excuse. What was the point? He'd been asleep for three days, which was apparently typical behavior for the old Ryo. The family had already decided what kind of person he was.
"No matter," Lady Catherine interjected, her voice warm with motherly affection. "You're here now, and that's what counts. Are you feeling well, dear? You've been sleeping for so long, and—"
"He's fine, Catherine." Lord Marcus's tone brooked no argument. "The boy needs to learn responsibility, not coddling."
Vincent let out a soft chuckle. "Perhaps his awakening will grant him a Sleeper class. He's certainly put in enough practice."
Damien grinned at his brother's joke, and even their father's lips twitched with what might have been amusement. Only Lady Catherine looked disapproving, shooting her sons a sharp look that they both ignored.
Ryo felt the familiar burn of shame in his chest, followed immediately by anger. Not at them, exactly, but at the situation. At the expectations and the judgment and the way everyone had already written him off before he'd even had a chance to prove himself.
It was just like his old job, really. The quarterly reviews where his supervisor would read from a checklist of predetermined conclusions, going through the motions of evaluation while everyone already knew what the outcome would be. The meetings where decisions were made before he'd even entered the room. The slow, grinding realization that nothing he did would ever matter because he'd been categorized, filed away, dismissed.
Well, fuck that.
"Let's get this over with," Ryo said, walking toward the awakening stone with more confidence than he felt.
The priest stepped forward as he approached—a elderly man in white robes whose kind eyes suggested he'd overseen countless awakenings over the years. His name was Father Benedict, according to Ryo's borrowed memories, and he'd been with the family since before Ryo was born.
"Young Master Blackthorne," the priest said with a gentle smile. "Are you ready to discover your path?"
"As ready as anyone can be for something completely outside their control."
Father Benedict blinked, apparently surprised by the response. Behind him, Ryo could hear Vincent whisper something to Damien that made them both snicker.
"Indeed," the priest said slowly. "The gods work in mysterious ways, and their gifts are not always what we expect. Place your hand upon the stone, and we shall see what destiny awaits you."
Ryo approached the crystal monolith, which hummed with barely contained energy. Up close, he could see swirls of color moving within its depths like living things. It was warm to the touch, almost hot, and the moment his palm made contact with its surface, the world exploded into light.
Information flooded his mind—not words or images, but pure understanding that bypassed his normal senses entirely. He could feel the stone reading him, analyzing every aspect of his being from his physical capabilities to his deepest motivations. It was invasive and intimate and utterly beyond his control.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the process stopped.
The light faded, leaving Ryo blinking spots from his vision. The stone had gone dark, its inner radiance extinguished as if it had simply turned itself off. Father Benedict frowned, leaning closer to examine the crystal.
"Curious," the priest murmured. "In all my years, I've never seen the stone go completely dormant after an awakening. Usually there's some residual glow, some indication of the class granted."
"What does that mean?" Lady Catherine asked, worry evident in her voice.
Before Father Benedict could respond, words appeared in Ryo's vision—not in front of his eyes, but somehow overlaid onto his perception like a heads-up display in a video game.
SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE
WELCOME, RYO BLACKTHORNE
CLASS: UNDEFINED
TRAIT: GRADUAL MASTERY
CURRENT LEVEL: 1
AVAILABLE SKILLS: 0
NOTE: YOUR GROWTH FOLLOWS AN UNCONVENTIONAL PATH. CONSISTENCY AND PATIENCE WILL BE REWARDED BEYOND NORMAL PARAMETERS.
The words faded as quickly as they'd appeared, leaving Ryo staring at empty air while his family waited for some kind of explanation.
"Well?" Lord Marcus demanded. "What class did you receive?"
Ryo hesitated. The honest answer was that he had no idea what "Undefined" meant, and his trait description was vague enough to be useless. But something told him that admitting ignorance would only make things worse.
"It's... complicated," he said finally.
Vincent let out a bark of laughter. "Complicated? It's a simple question, Ryo. What's your class?"
"The stone went dark," Damien added helpfully. "I've never heard of that happening before. Usually it shows some kind of magical aura that indicates the awakening results."
Father Benedict was studying the crystal with growing confusion. "Indeed, this is most unusual. Young Master, are you certain you felt the awakening take place? There should have been a sensation of change, of new knowledge being granted."
Ryo had definitely felt something, but he wasn't about to describe the alien interface that had appeared in his vision. Instead, he shrugged. "I felt something. Whether it was an awakening or just the stone malfunctioning, I couldn't say."
The silence that followed was deafening. Lord Marcus's expression had gone from expectant to cold, while Lady Catherine looked like she might cry. Vincent and Damien exchanged glances that spoke volumes about their opinion of their younger brother's prospects.
"A failed awakening," Lord Marcus said finally, his voice flat with disappointment. "In three centuries of House Blackthorne history, we've never had a member fail to awaken properly."
"Perhaps," Father Benedict interjected gently, "the gods have simply chosen a different path for young Ryo. Not all gifts manifest in conventional ways."
"Or perhaps," Vincent said with barely concealed glee, "there simply wasn't anything there to awaken."
The words hit like a physical blow, and Ryo felt his temper flare. In his old life, he would have swallowed the insult, internalized it, let it eat away at him like acid. But he wasn't that person anymore. He'd died once already—what was the worst they could do to him now?
"You know what, Vincent?" Ryo said, turning to face his brother with a calm that surprised everyone present. "You might be right. Maybe there isn't anything special about me. Maybe I'll never be a legendary paladin like Damien or a brilliant tactician like you."
Vincent's smug expression faltered slightly, as if he'd expected more defensiveness from his usual target.
"But here's the thing," Ryo continued, his voice steady and conversational. "I don't really give a damn what any of you think about it."
Lady Catherine gasped. Lord Marcus's face darkened with anger. Damien stepped forward as if preparing to defend the family honor, while Vincent's pale eyes narrowed with calculation.
"That's enough," Lord Marcus said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "You will show proper respect to your family and your betters, boy."
"My betters?" Ryo laughed, and there was nothing pleasant about the sound. "Based on what, exactly? The circumstances of our birth? The random chance of genetic lottery? Or maybe you think having a fancy class automatically makes someone a better person?"
"Ryo, please," Lady Catherine whispered, reaching toward him with one trembling hand.
He looked at his mother—this woman who'd shown him nothing but kindness and concern—and felt his anger deflate slightly. She didn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire of his frustration with the rest of them.
"I'm sorry, Mother," he said, his voice gentler. "But I'm tired of pretending to be something I'm not to make other people comfortable."
Lord Marcus stepped forward, his hand moving to the sword at his side. "You forget yourself, boy. You are a Blackthorne, and you will conduct yourself accordingly, or you will find yourself without the protection of that name."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a promise."
The hall fell silent except for the distant sound of wind whistling through the high windows. Ryo could feel the weight of his family's stares, the judgment and disappointment and barely restrained anger. It was exactly like every performance review he'd ever endured, every meeting where his worth had been measured and found wanting.
The only difference was that this time, he had a choice about how to respond.
"Then I guess we have nothing more to discuss," Ryo said calmly. "If my presence here is such a burden, perhaps it would be better for everyone if I found somewhere else to be."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the great doors of the hall. His footsteps echoed in the silence, each one carrying him further away from the life that had been planned for him.
"Ryo, wait!" Lady Catherine called after him, but he didn't stop.
He was done with expectations. Done with living up to other people's standards. Done with being judged by systems designed to categorize and control.
The Gradual Mastery trait was still a mystery, but the name suggested something that his old corporate life had beaten out of him—patience. The willingness to work toward long-term goals without immediate validation.
Maybe that was exactly what he needed.
The doors of the great hall slammed shut behind him with a sound like thunder, and Ryo Blackthorne walked into an uncertain future with nothing but the clothes on his back and a strange new system that promised rewards for those patient enough to earn them.
For the first time since his awakening, he was smiling.