Axel didn't open the screen immediately.
It hovered in front of him, faint and translucent, like it had been waiting all along.
He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, fingers interlocked tightly enough that his knuckles whitened. His body still ached from the day's training—deep, persistent soreness that reminded him he was very much real.
Very much awake.
"…I didn't imagine you," he muttered.
The screen pulsed once, as if acknowledging him.
His throat tightened.
Up until now, he'd avoided this. Every time the system appeared, it only showed fragments—notifications, training directives, warnings. Never the full picture.
Because deep down, a part of him feared what this would mean if it was real.
If it wasn't—
Then he was insane.
Axel exhaled slowly.
"Open," he said.
The screen expanded.
Not dramatically.
Not with flair.
It unfolded like a document—cold, structured, merciless.
[STATUS WINDOW — AXEL KAISER]
Awakened Classification: Unassigned
Level: 1
Condition: Stabilized
Title: None
Axel blinked.
"…Level one?"
His eyes scanned downward, faster now.
Strength: 7
Agility: 6
Endurance: 8
Vitality: 9
Mana: 4
Silence filled the room.
Axel stared.
Then laughed.
A short, sharp sound that cracked midway.
"…This is a joke."
His hands trembled slightly as he clenched them.
"This—this can't be right. Even unranked awakened are higher than this. Even—"
His chest tightened.
Even civilians.
Memories surfaced unbidden—academy lectures, televised rankings, the casual way numbers were discussed in this world.
An average newly awakened combatant has physical stats between 20 and 30.
Mana-sensitive individuals start at 15 minimum.
Axel's mana was 4.
Four.
He felt cold.
"…So that's why," he whispered.
Why the gravity drills crushed him.
Why mana circulation felt like forcing air through rusted pipes.
Why Cross never once looked impressed.
He wasn't just weak.
He was abnormally weak.
The screen continued, uncaring.
Skill Slots: Locked
Passive Traits: Locked
System Functions: Limited Access
Evaluation:
Host body severely underdeveloped for awakened combat standards.
Axel's breathing grew shallow.
"…Severely," he repeated.
His vision blurred—not with tears, but with a strange pressure behind his eyes. He pressed a hand to his forehead, grounding himself.
"Okay," he muttered. "Okay. Think."
Hallucinations didn't explain pain.
Delusions didn't rewrite muscle memory.
Madness didn't make healers pause in confusion over recovery rates.
This thing—
It was real.
And that terrified him more than insanity ever could.
Another line appeared.
[Notice]
Host survival probability without intervention: 12.7%
Axel froze.
"…Survival?"
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Without intervention.
Meaning—
"Without you," he whispered.
The system responded instantly.
[Affirmative.]
For a long moment, Axel said nothing.
Then he leaned back, staring at the ceiling, a hollow laugh escaping him.
"So in a world of awakened monsters… I'm basically already dead."
The ceiling didn't answer.
The system did.
[Correction.]
Host potential is not reflected in current status values.
Axel snapped upright.
"…Potential?"
The word echoed in his mind.
Before he could speak, the screen shifted again.
[Hidden Parameter Detected]
Growth Modifier: Abnormal
Adaptation Rate: Accelerated under stress
His pulse spiked.
"Wait—what does that mean?"
The system paused.
For the first time—
It hesitated.
[Explanation requires continued training and system synchronization.]
Axel stared at the words.
Slowly, something settled in his chest.
Not confidence.
Not hope.
But resolve.
"…So that's it," he said quietly. "I start lower than everyone. So low it's almost unfair."
He looked back at his stats.
At the pathetic numbers.
At the locked skills.
At the empty title slot.
Then he smiled.
A thin, tired smile.
"But if I stop now, I die anyway."
The screen pulsed faintly.
[Training Routine Updated.]
[Next Phase: Foundational Ascension.]
Axel closed the window.
The room felt heavier afterward.
More real.
Tomorrow, Cross would train him again.
The world would still see him as weak.
No one would know what sat quietly behind his eyes.
But Axel finally understood something fundamental.
He wasn't competing with others.
He was racing death itself.
And now—
He had a system that refused to let him lose easily.