Ron stared at the spoon he held between his thumb and forefinger. He stared at it so hard his eyes turned red, blood vessels bulging.
"Bend. Bend. Bend," he chanted, like a man possessed. His whole body ached, drenched in sweat.
It had been four hours since he'd assumed this position, without moving an inch. However, the spoon showed no sign of moving.
It never had, not once since he'd awakened four years ago.
In this world, twenty percent of all humans awakened supernatural abilities by the time they turned eighteen. No one in history had ever awakened after that age. The moment a person awakened, their life changed completely. They automatically climbed the rungs of this new social hierarchy.
Being awakened meant a better job, a better lifestyle, a better relationship, a better pension, and most importantly, a chance to work with the Awakened Collective-the current world government.
One hundred years ago, when people first started to awaken, conflict erupted immediately. The awakened felt no need to follow mortal laws, and most weren't particularly moral. What followed was a deadly crisis. Crime was rampant, and normal humans were extremely vulnerable. Whether a cop, a billionaire, or a politician, they were all on the chopping block.
Famous people had it the worst. Politicians were assassinated, actresses abducted, and pop stars executed. They were public figures with many haters. The more haters they had, the higher the chance that one of them had awakened with a thirst for blood.
However, after forty years of this madness, the "good guys" finally won. This victory belonged to a group calling themselves the Awakened Collective, or AC.
At least they weren't as evil as the others. They had a genuine interest in fixing and running the world, which is why they gained the support of normal humans as well. Many powerful awakened joined them, some for the promise of money and fame, others to secure a better future for their families.
After their victory, criminals were imprisoned or executed according to their crimes. Law and order were finally restored and have remained largely successful to this day.
Thud.
Ron finally fell to the ground, exhausted after four hours of straining. The poor fellow had gained telekinesis from his awakening. However, no matter how hard he tried, the most he could do was bend a single blade of grass. A spoon, no matter how delicate, was proving to be impossible.
It was his last chance to get admitted into the Awakened Collective Academy, or ACA. This academy was how the AC recruited and trained its new members. It was a three-year course followed by specialization and an internship-a total of seven to eight years of training.
In this world, the ACA was the most prestigious institution for the Awakened. Graduates were guaranteed a high-paying position in the AC. While the AC hired non-Awakened people, they had to be exceptional and were paid far less than their Awakened counterparts.
This meant that all sixteen- to eighteen-year-olds dreamed of getting into the academy and setting themselves up for life. Needless to say, an academy this elite didn't take just anyone. To get in, you had to clear two separate eligibility tests.
Ron had failed the first test miserably. If it wasn't free to attend, he wouldn't have gone out of his way to endure the humiliation and disappointment.
Ron really, really needed to get in. He was living in a small apartment, dependent on his aunt who barely earned enough for him and her own daughter. The bills were piling up, and inflation was hitting hard. She had to work overtime every night. No matter how much they tried, being non-Awakened meant being a second-class citizen with fewer opportunities in this new system, a system built by the awakened for themselves.
Seventy percent of all "nons" lived in poverty. Ron's cousin couldn't attend the school of her choice and had to work as a waitress just to afford her current AC-run trade school.
Being an Awakened in this poor family, Ron used to be their sparkling hope. He was treated like a treasure, and his aunt spent her life savings on his coaching and instructors, just to get him to use his telekinesis properly and enter the ACA. They tried everything, but it all turned to dust. Ron was awakened, sure, but utterly useless. People like him weren't unheard of-those who barely passed as awakened but were otherwise no different from nons. In a way, they were worse off, forced to endure the scrutiny and high expectations that came with the title.
The floor was red with blood. Ron's head was bleeding, though the fall hadn't been very hard. Sunlight reflected on the dark crimson pool. His breathing had already stopped.
Why didn't he try to get up and struggle? Why lay limp and wait for death?
Perhaps he had lost his will to live. Maybe his death would lessen the burden on his aunt. The resources that were wasted on him could be given to his more deserving cousin. His aunt could cut back on the overtime. No more coaching. No more buying expensive, perfectly shaped spoons for his practice.
One less mouth to feed.
The best outcome.
However.
Thump.
A beat.
*Thump. Thump. Thump.*
His heartbeat resumed after five minutes of being dead. It could only be described as a rebirth.
He opened his eyes. The dull black eyes of before now held a sharp glint. He sat up, grabbing his head and pressing a hand to the wound to stop the bleeding.
"Fuck… I really got transmigrated," he mused, a smile playing on his lips. He wasn't Ron.
Ron was dead. He was someone else, a soul from another world now possessing Ron's body.
"Now then..." He stood up, stumbling from the blood loss. "Let's make sure this new life doesn't end up like the last one."
CRASH!
He fell down again, with a loud sound this time.