The graduating Year 12 students, only thirty of them, sat in the two front rows.
"Berry Stone..." the Managing Director called out from the stage, standing confidently at the front of the hall with a stack of sealed certificates. Behind him stood several armored soldiers, each holding a chained beast—waiting to be bonded.
A boy stepped forward from among the graduates. Even the sound of his name stirred the air, charging it with pride and envy. Applause erupted.
The Managing Director tore open the envelope, scanned the certificate, and gave a slight nod.
"Total points: 1450 out of 1600. Expedient."
The crowd gasped, followed by a roar of cheers. That was an extraordinary score—one of the highest ever recorded.
"Massive score. Massive reward. You receive... a Black Leopard."
Berry tried to suppress a grin, but the excitement radiated from him.
'Black Leopards… mana-fused beasts with the potential to rank up to A¹ At maturity—surpassing rank D, C, B, A,' Jayden thought, sinking deeper into his seat.
A soldier stepped forward—spiked armor clinging to his frame—and presented the Black Leopard, its eyes glowing faintly with primal power. The beast snarled quietly, held back by chains inscribed with mana control patterns.
Berry lowered himself. Of course, studying wasn't all he had done. He'd also trained—honed his mana, disciplined his veins, and learned control. He extended a hand to the leopard's snout.
A single moment of darkness blanketed the hall.
When the light returned, Berry stood transformed—no longer just a boy, but a hybrid creature with deep black eyes, longer wild hair, and a sleek tail curling from his lower back.
'Wish I get something like that,' Jayden thought, eyes fixed in awe. 'Not just the aesthetic... a 25% boost in speed, 30% in strength, and sensory precision. Even if it was still at D-Rank, Tier 3.'
The ceremony continued.
More names. More beasts—some powerful, some pitiful. Some were assigned plants, others insects, and a lucky few received what were considered Proper Beasts.
Then came the moment.
"Jayden Logan."
Jayden froze. Only in prayer did he move before standing. The crowd went still—not out of admiration or anticipation, but unfamiliarity. He was a shadow to most. To the few who knew him, he was the quiet one.
He stepped forward under the weight of every eye.
The Managing Director opened his envelope. His brows raised slightly, unreadable.
"Hmm…" the man muttered.
Then he looked up, eyes narrowing curiously. "So you're the one."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, all uncertain to what the MD might have meant.
"Total points: 800 out of 1600... just—no direction."
Jayden's heart skipped.
The ceremony was broadcast nationally, beamed through a United States private satellite. Never before had he seen someone with a score like his. Not neutral. Not good. Not bad. Just... lost.
The audience didn't know what to feel, staring at each other with expressions as lost as the score was.
"You know the system," the MD continued. "Your result, your reward. Your reward will be just as... uncertain as you are."
He turned. "Stone Egg."
A low hum filled the air.
People glanced around. A stone egg? No such beast had ever been documented.
A soldier stepped forward, carrying a plain, white, egg-shaped object. Heavy, though it looked weightless. Cold. Lifeless.
Jayden bent low, heart racing, veins surging with mana. He stretched out his arm to make contact—
And the mana bounced back.
Like water poured on smooth rock.
"Come on... respond," Jayden whispered, pouring more mana. Still, the egg didn't flinch.
He dropped to his knees in desperation, trying again and again. Nothing.
Laughter began to bubble through the crowd—first one voice, then many. Even those who bonded with insects started to grin. At least they got something. He became hope to the hopeless.
"Pathetic," the MD rasped, shaking his head. He knew the truth—nothing had ever awakened that egg. Not hammer, not heat. Not time. It had been harvested from a dead dragon decades ago and eventually discarded. Scientists declared it useless—like the appendix in the human body.
"We have better things to do with our time," the MD said coldly. "Go home. Try again next year. Or enroll into the higher institution and use it as a shield to hide behind. With that toughness I'm sure it would work perfectly well!"
More laughter. Louder now.
Jayden said nothing. He returned to his seat, egg in hand, shame in his spine, his thoughts blank but burning.
He sat there, emotionless, staring at the thing that had humiliated him. Even knocking it lightly with his knuckles but it felt like tapping divine steel.
The ceremony ended minutes after.
More silence.
More shame.
Jayden slipped out quietly, unnoticed.
Even insects, he now admired.
'Now for the real challenge', he thought. 'Facing Mom and mostly—Dad.'
Both his parents were military. They wouldn't understand. They wouldn't show mercy. Maybe his mother but not his father.
"Hey, Egg Man!" someone called behind him.
Jayden didn't stop. The nickname, though cruel, was clearly meant for him.
"Don't feel so bad," the voice continued, a mix of pity and mockery. "If it doesn't hatch, you could always fry the egg. Eat your own destiny."
Laughter erupted. Again.
Jayden clenched his jaw. He was used to ignoring people. But this?
This was worse than insult.
It was pity.
And worst of all—he felt like they were right.
He walked faster, the egg still in his arms. It was heavy, metaphorically and physically.
'Sixteen years of schooling for this?' he thought bitterly.
He needed to do something. Anything.
He couldn't go home like this.
"Go to hell, Silvercliff Academy," he whispered, gripping the egg tighter. Rage and shame poured from his body into the cold shell.
"I'll go down the tunnel myself... I'll find a beast stronger than anything they've ever seen and you all would regret laughing."
And with that, Jayden turned—vanishing into the twilight. He wasn't the best, nor the worst, but in that moment, he was nothing. Still, each deliberate step he took pressed against fate, stripping the "no" from "nothing" and replacing it with a "some."
He was becoming something. Not for now, but with that determination and push, it was certain.
"They'll see…" he whispered at last, his voice low and bitter as he trod the lively streets of the United States, destiny or maybe his badge of mockery cradled in his arms.