The platform slowed to a halt, locking into place with a metallic click.
Jordan stepped forward, squinting against the glow of the chamber ahead. It was smaller than the Core Chamber, but no less imposing. The crystal pillar rose in the center, its swirling light filling the room with a pale radiance. Carved runes spiraled up its surface like veins, pulsing faintly in rhythm with a heartbeat that wasn't his own.
Two proctors stood at the edge of the platform, arms folded. Their uniforms were lined with thin channels of crystal that glowed faintly, amplifiers for their own abilities. Both regarded him with a clinical detachment, the kind reserved for another routine Null to be filed away.
"Jordan Kane," one of them read off a tablet. His voice was flat. "Age: eighteen. Graduation rank: average. No recorded awakening." His eyes flicked up, expression unreadable. "Step forward. Place your hand on the crystal."
Jordan swallowed, throat dry. His boots echoed against the polished floor as he moved toward the pillar. Each step felt heavier, like he was walking against the weight of the entire city pressing down on him.
He could feel the proctors' unspoken judgment. The system had recorded thousands of Awakenings before his. Nearly all successful. He would be another blip in the records—another disappointment.
His parents' faces flashed in his mind. They hadn't died to leave behind a son who couldn't even awaken.
Jordan raised his hand, fingers trembling, and pressed his palm against the cool surface of the crystal.
Nothing happened.
The chamber stayed quiet, the glow of the crystal steady and indifferent. No flicker. No pulse.
Whispers rose from the observation gallery above, where candidates waiting their turn watched through a transparent barrier. He couldn't see their faces clearly, but he could hear their voices—muffled but sharp.
"Null. Told you."
"Why's he even here?"
"Waste of time."
Heat crawled up Jordan's neck. His fingers pressed harder against the crystal, as if sheer force of will could make it respond. He clenched his teeth, refusing to move, refusing to give them the satisfaction of watching him step back.
"Candidate Kane," the first proctor said, voice clipped. "If no resonance is detected within the next ten seconds, the test will be considered failed."
Ten seconds. That was all the system was willing to grant him.
Jordan shut his eyes. His heart hammered against his ribs. Come on. Come on. Anything. I don't care if it's weak, I don't care if it's useless—just give me something.
The crystal remained silent.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
The proctor's voice ticked down the seconds, each one a nail in the coffin of his future. Jordan gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. His body trembled. Anger boiled beneath his skin, mingling with shame.
Six.
Five.
Four.
No. I won't fail here. Not like this. Not when they're all watching.
His pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out the count. He pressed both hands to the crystal now, forehead nearly touching its surface. Heat burned in his chest, pressure building until it felt like his ribcage would crack.
Three.
Two.
The world exploded.
Light surged through his body like fire and lightning fused into one, searing down his arms, racing through his veins. His knees buckled, but he didn't let go. The crystal pillar roared to life, its runes igniting in a blinding cascade of brilliance.
The chamber filled with a thunderclap so loud it rattled the walls. Bolts of raw energy arced across the surface of the crystal, leaping outward like lightning striking the earth. Jordan cried out, not from pain but from the overwhelming rush tearing through him. It wasn't heat. It wasn't electricity. It was everything at once—raw power unshaped, searching for form.
The proctors staggered back, eyes wide. One raised a barrier of crackling energy just as a bolt lashed out, scorching the floor inches from his boots.
In the gallery above, gasps replaced the whispers. Candidates shielded their eyes from the glow.
Jordan's vision swam white, but in that blinding radiance, he saw more than the crystal. He felt the people in the chamber—the proctors, the candidates beyond the barrier. Threads of power flickered at the edge of his senses, each one distinct, each one alive. He reached instinctively, brushing against one thread—
—and it became his.
The roar of energy shifted, focused, condensed into arcs of brilliant lightning dancing across his arms. Thunder cracked, echoing like a storm trapped in his veins. The crystal flared brighter, as if feeding on him, amplifying him.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, the surge stabilized.
Jordan staggered back, gasping, his hands still crackling with faint tendrils of light. The crystal pulsed once, then dimmed to its steady glow, its judgment complete.
Silence followed.
The first proctor recovered first, staring at the tablet in his hand. His brows shot up. "Candidate Kane…" He looked from the device to Jordan, then back again. "Ability resonance detected. High-level elemental manifestation. Classification: Thunder affinity."
The second proctor's eyes narrowed, though his lips twitched as if he almost smiled. "Not a Null after all."
Above, the whispers turned into stunned murmurs.
"Thunder? Did you see that?"
"I thought he was hopeless—"
"That light… it looked more like radiance than lightning."
The system's projection shimmered into the air above the crystal, displaying Jordan's name and the registered ability:
Name: Jordan Kane
Ability: Thunder Manipulation (Unclassified Tier)
Jordan stared at the glowing words, chest heaving. Thunder Manipulation. That was what they saw. That was what the crystal chose to reveal.
But he knew it wasn't the whole truth.
Because even now, beneath the static crackling across his skin, he could still feel the threads. The echoes of the proctors' abilities. The faint hum of others waiting in the gallery. Their powers brushed against the edge of his mind, waiting. Whispering.
He hadn't conjured thunder from nothing. He had reached. He had taken.
And the system had given it a name that wasn't his.
"Candidate Kane," the first proctor said, regaining his composure, "you are to report for placement trials tomorrow morning. Congratulations. You are dismissed."
Jordan nodded numbly, his legs unsteady as he turned and stepped off the platform. The barrier shimmered and opened, releasing him back into the waiting hall.
Every eye was on him.
Some wide with disbelief. Some narrowed with jealousy. Others calculating.
Jordan kept his gaze forward, refusing to meet any of them. His hands still tingled, faint arcs of lightning dancing across his fingertips before fading.
The whispers followed him out.
"From a Null to Thunder affinity? That's insane."
"He's dangerous."
"No… he's lucky. The system must have misread."
Jordan didn't argue. Let them think what they wanted. Thunder. Light. Whatever label made them comfortable.
He knew the truth was something else entirely.
Something they weren't ready to see.
By the time he stepped outside the chamber, the glow of the crystal still burned behind his eyelids. His chest still thrummed with that second heartbeat, steady now, no longer wild but no less powerful.
For the first time in his life, he wasn't empty.
And deep down, he knew this was only the beginning.
The training arena stretched wider than a stadium, its walls reinforced with layers of crystal that shimmered faintly in the light. Platforms floated high above, filled with candidates watching the trials below. The air vibrated with energy, each fight before Jordan's filling the chamber with sparks, fire, and roars of elemental force.
Jordan stood among the remaining candidates at the edge of the field, his hands clenched into fists. Every match before his had been dazzling—one boy had raised a wall of stone as tall as a house, while another had split the air with a streak of crimson flame that scorched the ground black. The crowd cheered with each display.
Jordan's stomach twisted. He still didn't understand what had happened yesterday. Thunder—that's what they'd called it. Thunder Manipulation. The crystal had branded him with that name, and the others had accepted it. But when he closed his eyes, he could still feel the threads of energy brushing against him, echoes of the abilities around him.
And he knew. That wasn't thunder. Not really.
The proctor's voice snapped his attention forward. "Next candidate. Jordan Kane."
The platform beneath him lit with a circle of runes, and his body lifted gently into the air. He floated across the battlefield, landing in the center of the arena. Above, the murmurs began immediately.
"The Null?"
"He awakened yesterday, right?"
"Thunder Manipulation, they said."
"He'll burn out in five seconds."
Jordan ignored them, lifting his chin. His chest tightened, but he refused to look away from the opposite end of the arena.
The ground there cracked open, glowing lines spiraling outward as a shape rose from beneath the floor. Crystal shards knit together, forming a towering humanoid figure. Its body glowed faintly, faceless and featureless except for the jagged edges of its crystalline form.
A crystal construct. Designed to mimic the strength and aggression of a real opponent without risking lives.
The proctor raised her hand. "Candidate Kane. Your task is simple. Defeat the construct, or survive three minutes."
Jordan's pulse hammered in his ears. Three minutes against that?
The construct's chest pulsed with light. Then it moved, stepping forward with a sound like grinding stone.
"Begin!"
The construct surged forward, faster than its size should allow. Its arm swung in a wide arc, a blade-like edge of crystal slicing toward him.
Jordan dove to the side, the strike cleaving a groove into the floor where he'd stood. He scrambled to his feet, lungs burning. His body moved on instinct, faster than he thought he could.
Another swing came, and he ducked, rolling away. But he couldn't dodge forever.
Thunder. That's what they expected. That's what he had to show.
Jordan raised his hand, willing the crackling energy to return. At first, nothing. Then a spark leapt between his fingertips. He forced the image into his mind—the storm inside him, the lightning he'd felt yesterday—and the spark grew, arcs of light dancing across his palm.
The construct lunged again. Jordan thrust out his hand.
Lightning cracked through the air.
The bolt slammed into the construct's chest, bursting with a thunderclap that rattled his bones. Shards of crystal scattered across the arena floor as the creature staggered back, its glow flickering.
Gasps rippled through the watching candidates. Jordan barely heard them. His chest heaved, his hand tingling, the crackle of energy still dancing across his skin.
The construct steadied itself. The shards reformed, pulling back into its body with a grinding sound. It straightened, its chest glowing brighter.
It wasn't finished.
The creature charged, its arms a blur of jagged edges. Jordan gritted his teeth and dodged, barely avoiding a strike that grazed his shoulder. Pain lanced across his skin, hot and sharp.
He stumbled, heart pounding. The energy inside him pulsed again, wild and waiting. He clenched his fist, lightning sparking around it.
"Come on," he whispered.
The construct raised its arms for another blow. Jordan thrust both hands forward.
A storm erupted.
Bolts of lightning exploded from his palms in a torrent, striking the construct again and again. Each impact burst shards from its body, scattering them across the floor in showers of light. The arena shook with the force of it, thunder rolling through the chamber like a storm trapped indoors.
The construct let out a low hum, its chest flickering wildly. Cracks spread across its body, glowing white-hot.
Then it shattered.
The crystal giant exploded into fragments, scattering like glass across the arena. The light faded, leaving silence in its wake.
Jordan stood in the center of the wreckage, chest heaving, his hands still glowing faintly with arcs of lightning. The echoes of thunder rolled through the chamber one last time before fading.
Silence held for a moment longer. Then the gallery erupted.
"Impossible."
"He destroyed it!"
"That wasn't just survival—he won!"
The proctor's eyes narrowed, but her voice remained steady. "Candidate Kane. Trial complete. Result: Pass. Await further instructions."
Jordan let his hands fall, the last sparks fading from his skin. His heart thundered in his chest, but not from fear. For the first time, he had stood in the center of the arena—not as a Null, not as an outcast, but as someone who had power.
But deep down, he knew the truth.
That storm hadn't been thunder alone. It had been sharper, wilder, something shaped by him in ways no one else could manage.
And if he let himself reach for the threads again… he could do more. Much more.
He clenched his fists, hiding the thought as the platform lifted him back toward the candidates' gallery. Every eye followed him, some wide with awe, others narrowed with suspicion.
He didn't care.
For the first time, he wasn't invisible.
And this was only the beginning