The courtyard buzzed with excitement, a sea of eager eyes fixed on the stage where the Ritual of Awakening would begin. Sixteen-year-olds from across the kingdom had gathered here, each hoping to bond with an elemental spirit and claim their rightful place in society.
Kael stood at the edge of the crowd, his shoulders slouched, heart pounding in a rhythm that matched the murmurs around him. He wasn't like the others—he had always been… different. Smaller, weaker, slower. Even his classmates whispered behind his back: "Kael will fail. He's a waste of bloodline."
His stomach churned as he looked at the stage. One by one, youths stepped forward, glowing symbols appearing in the air as they bonded with fire, water, earth, and air spirits. The crowd cheered, the elders nodded in approval, and Kael felt the familiar sting of envy twist in his chest.
When his turn finally came, he forced his legs to move. Each step felt like dragging lead. His palms were sweaty, and when he raised them toward the altar, nothing happened. No glow. No symbols. Just emptiness.
A hush fell over the crowd. The elders frowned, the announcer's voice faltered, and the whispers started again—sharper this time.
"It's Kael… he's nothing."
"Another failure."
"Pathetic."
Kael's face burned. He had practiced for years, yet all the effort, all the hope, had led to this humiliation. The Ritual Master's gaze was stern.
"Step down," the man said coldly. "You have failed the Awakening."
Heat rose in Kael's chest, a mix of shame, anger, and despair. He had expected failure, feared it even, but hearing it spoken aloud felt like his entire world shattering. The crowd's laughter rang in his ears as he stumbled off the stage.
Back behind the crowd, Kael sank to his knees, head bowed. Tears burned his eyes. I'm useless… worthless… The thought repeated like a mantra, each echo heavier than the last.
Then, a strange warmth coursed through his veins. It started as a subtle thrum in his fingertips, then spread to his chest, his stomach, and finally his whole body. He froze, heart racing—not with fear this time, but with an unfamiliar awareness.
A voice, soft yet commanding, whispered inside his mind:
> "Blood detected. Initializing Genesis Protocol…"
Kael's breath caught. He had no idea what that meant, yet something inside him stirred, something ancient and powerful. He felt… alive. More alive than he ever had before.
A drop of blood trickled from a nick on his palm, unnoticed in the chaos of his failure. The warmth concentrated around it, and in an instant, the blood glowed a deep crimson. It spread across his body like fire, and the whispers grew louder, sharper, like claws scraping his mind.
> "Absorb… evolve… survive…"
Kael staggered back, clutching his chest. His vision blurred, his legs shook, but he felt a surge of energy coursing through him—strength, speed, clarity. It was intoxicating.
Around him, the crowd gasped. Some thought he was having a seizure. Some pointed in horror. But Kael barely noticed. The whispers continued, guiding him, urging him to rise.
He took a shaky breath and lifted his head. The red glow from his blood faded as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only a lingering warmth, a quiet hum that promised power beyond comprehension.
Kael's knees gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. He didn't know what had just happened, but one thing was clear: he had failed the world… yet something inside him had awakened. Something forbidden, something the kingdom had erased from history.
And in that moment, Kael realized: failure was only the beginning.
A shadow of a smile tugged at his lips, half in fear, half in defiance.
> "If the world will not recognize me… I will rise on my own terms."
The murmurs of the crowd faded, replaced by the silent hum in his veins.
The Genesis had begun.