For about five glorious seconds, the Awakening Hall had been mine.Everyone was staring, cheering, gasping — me, Han Yue, the miracle summoner who'd just defied expectations with a four-star beast.
Then the murmurs started.
"No way that's a four-star.""It's… it's literally a rock.""Did the Resonance Stone glitch again?""Maybe it's decorative?"
And just like that, the crowd's awe turned into confusion, then disbelief.
The instructor who had announced my rating now looked like he wanted to crawl under the Resonance Stone and hide. He coughed, tugging his metallic robe collar.
"Ehm… student Han Yue, please step aside for a moment. We may need to… verify your result."
"Verify?" I echoed. "You mean, you think the magic rock that makes monsters might have made a mistake giving me— a rock?"
The man gave me a painfully diplomatic smile. "Just a technical recalibration. Nothing to worry about."
Sure. Because that's what people say right before your entire academic future gets deleted.
I sighed and picked up my little lump of destiny. It hummed softly in my palm, warm and solid, and for a second I thought I felt it pulse — like a heartbeat. Then it sneezed a puff of dust straight into my face.
Perfect. My beast had allergies.
The murmuring crowd turned as the next candidate was called forward.Chen Bo strutted to the stone like he was walking onto a concert stage.
"Name," the examiner said, sounding exhausted already.
"Chen Bo," he replied, grinning wide enough to blind someone. "Remember it."
He placed his hand on the Resonance Stone. The moment he did, the air roared.
Lightning forked across the ceiling, heat bursting from the ground in shimmering waves. The stone's glow turned from gold to emerald, pulsing like a heartbeat on overdrive.Students shielded their faces. Instructors took a step back. Someone screamed — probably in awe.
Then, with a sound like cracking thunder, the light exploded outward.
A serpent the size of a small car uncoiled from the center, scales dark as obsidian with streaks of glowing green light running down its body. Its eyes burned molten amber. When it opened its mouth, a wave of heat rolled out, making the banners overhead sway.
"By the heavens," an instructor whispered. "A Tintaboa… a juvenile!"
The Resonance Stone flared again.
One star. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
Seven stars.
The hall erupted. Cheers, applause, chaos.Students practically fell over each other to get a better look.
Chen Bo just stood there, basking in it, his grin now bordering on criminal arrogance.
"See?" he called, flashing a look my way. "Told you I'd get a dragon. It's just missing wings!"
I forced a laugh that came out more like a cough. "Congratulations. Now all you need is a leash before that thing eats the faculty."
"Jealousy is unhealthy, Han Yue," he said, patting his serpent's head. It hissed proudly, wrapping its tail around him like a trophy ribbon.
I looked down at my beast, who was currently rolling in a lazy circle at my feet, bumping against my shoe. "Hear that?" I muttered. "You could at least pretend to glow menacingly."
The rock sneezed again.
By the time the ceremony ended, Chen Bo had become the academy's instant celebrity. Students swarmed him, instructors congratulated him, and the press drones floating outside the hall probably already had his face plastered on every newsfeed in the city.
Meanwhile, I got a pat on the shoulder and a "We'll review your results tomorrow, don't worry."
I tried to smile like it didn't sting. After all, it wasn't like I expected much. But still — being told your destiny might have been a software error wasn't exactly motivational.
Chen Bo caught up to me as I stepped outside into the fading light. "Hey, don't sulk, man. You'll get another shot."
"Yeah," I said, forcing a grin. "Maybe next time I'll upgrade from rock to pebble."
He laughed, slapping my back hard enough to make my teeth rattle. "Come on, don't be like that. You know you'll always be my sidekick, even if your beast doubles as a paperweight."
"Touching. Truly."
He left soon after, off to get his serpent registered with the Beast Control Division. That's what you did when you had something worth showing off.
I, on the other hand, found a quiet bench in the academy courtyard and sat down, my little rock-thing resting beside me.
The city of Jincheng shimmered in the distance — neon towers built from salvaged tech, half-merged with ancient stone ruins from before the Refraction. Above them, the sky still flickered faintly with fractured colors — a wound that never fully healed.
My reflection in the academy window looked… ordinary. Brown eyes, black hair, standard uniform slightly wrinkled. I didn't look like the kind of guy who'd save the world. I looked like the kind of guy who'd hold its coat while someone else did.
The rock wobbled onto my knee and bumped my arm.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered. "You think I'm pathetic too, huh?"
It let out a low hum. Not a growl exactly, but deeper than before — like a miniature earthquake hiding inside a whisper.
I froze. The air around it vibrated faintly, and for half a heartbeat, faint runes glowed across its shell.And then— blink —they vanished.
"…Did you just—?" I leaned closer. "You know what? No. I'm not falling for that. You're a rock. Rocks don't glow, they don't hum, and they definitely don't—"
The rock sneezed again, puffing a cloud of dust into my face.
"Okay, that's just rude."
Still, as I brushed myself off, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was watching me. Not with eyes, but with something older, deeper. Like it understood more than it should.
I sighed, scooping it up. "Come on, Pebble. Let's go home before someone mistakes you for construction material."
It hummed again — softer this time — and nestled against my hand, warm and oddly comforting.For the first time all day, I actually smiled.
High above, in the academy's observation deck, a very different kind of silence hung in the air.
The Head Examiner, Instructor Zhao, stood before a wall of floating data panels, the Resonance Stone's readings still flickering faintly across them. Beside him, a technician nervously adjusted the holographic controls.
"Sir," the technician said quietly, "candidate Han Yue's data feed— it's… corrupted."
Zhao frowned. "Corrupted how?"
"Look at the waveform."
He enlarged the projection. A jagged pulse filled the screen, the resonance signature still climbing past the recorded threshold. It hadn't stopped. It hadn't even stabilized.
"It's still… increasing," the technician said, voice trembling. "Even after the ceremony ended."
Zhao stared at the data, expression darkening. "That's impossible. Resonance decay should flatten immediately."
The chart spiked again, briefly lighting up the room.
The technician swallowed. "What should we do?"
Zhao hesitated, then turned away. "Erase it."
"Sir?"
"Erase the record. If this reading is real, we don't want the Council seeing it until we know what it means."
The technician hesitated. "And the student?"
"Forget him," Zhao said softly. "If that thing inside the Resonance Stone was truly reacting to him… he's safer not knowing."
The data flickered once, then vanished.
Outside, the fractured sky rippled faintly — as if something enormous had stirred beneath it.
Han Yue had no idea.He was halfway home, his "rock" tucked in his bag, quietly humming a tune only it could hear.
He felt lighter somehow. Not because his situation had improved — it hadn't — but because, for the first time in a while, he didn't feel completely alone.
"Alright, Pebble," he said. "If we're going to survive Golden Dragon Academy, we need rules. Rule one: no sneezing indoors. Rule two: no eating homework. Rule three— hey, are you even listening?"
The rock wobbled once in response, as if nodding.
He laughed. "Yeah, okay. Fine. We'll make it work."
As the neon lights of Jincheng blinked on, painting the streets in gold and violet, neither of them noticed the faint, glowing symbols flickering across Pebble's shell — patterns ancient and unreadable, pulsing in rhythm with a distant heartbeat.
The Refraction's wound in the sky shimmered again, just for a moment.And far beneath the city, something answered.