Morning came softly, with a damp breeze drifting through the open windows of the guest wing. Nev had slept lightly. His new body still felt unfamiliar, and his mind woke faster than the sun. Pale light poured across the wooden floor and cast long shapes over the room. For a moment, Nev simply stared at the ceiling, letting silence settle his breath.
The steward knocked soon after. He was always early, always composed. "Young master Nev," he called from outside, "the Holder Assessment will begin in an hour. Please prepare."
Nev nodded even though the man could not see him. He washed quickly, tied the provided tunic, and followed the steward through the hallways of the house. Everything felt neat, polished, and expensive. He wondered what the original Nev had thought of mornings like this. Perhaps he woke late, ignored schedules, and let life pass softly. Nev did not have that luxury anymore.
Outside, the air smelled faintly of wet grass. The streets were already alive. Merchants arranged their stalls. Children laughed near the fountain. The world here looked peaceful on the surface, but Nev had learned that peace could be thin. One mark on a wall, one voice in the void, one death, could pull everything apart.
The steward walked beside him with a slow, even pace. "The Holder registry tests candidates every season," he explained. "Your family has sponsored many Holders in the past. You may find it a simple process."
Nev did not respond. He kept his hands folded behind him, hiding the small tremor of anticipation that the shard stirred inside his chest.
The Testing Hall stood at the eastern edge of the city, built of stone that had darkened over decades. Its roof curved in a wide arch. Large banners hung on either side of the entrance, displaying simple symbols that represented discipline and unity.
People lined the courtyard. Some whispered about the exam. Some practiced breathing exercises. A few older men and women watched calmly, their posture straight. They were already Holders. Nev felt threads trailing from them like faint smoke. Their control was not sharp, but present.
Inside, the hall was larger than it appeared from outside. Long metal devices stood along the walls. Runes glowed softly under glass plates. The air carried an energy that made Nev's skin prickle. It felt like dozens of invisible hands brushing lightly against him.
The main instructor, a man in grey robes, stepped forward. His eyes were sharp but not unfriendly. "Line up. Place your palm on the assessment plate when your name is called. The device will measure control and potential."
Candidates obeyed quickly. Some trembled visibly. Some held their breath. Some whispered prayers under their breath.
When Nev's name was called, the murmurs grew faint. A few people turned to stare. "Is that the Nolen boy?" someone whispered.
Nev ignored them and walked toward the circular device at the center of the hall. Up close, the plate looked simple: a smooth metal disk engraved with runes that circled outward in rings. It reminded him of the patterns in the void, the ones he could not fully understand.
He placed his palm on the cool surface.
At first, nothing happened. The plate remained dull and silent. The instructor frowned and leaned in slightly.
Then the shard in Nev's chest pulsed.
Threads appeared. They stretched from the device, from the floor, from the walls. They were clearer than ever, thin but bright, each humming with a pattern he felt rather than heard. One thread reached toward his hand as though seeking permission. Nev did not move, but the thread connected to the plate and formed a small spiral.
The runes flickered, searching for a category.
The colors shifted. Blue. Red. Yellow. Then something pale and undefined. The device made a soft sound like metal struggling to breathe.
The instructor straightened. "Again," he said quietly.
Nev did not move his hand. The plate responded on its own. It pulsed faint light along its rings. Instead of forming a single stable color, the glow rippled in waves, unable to choose.
People leaned in. The slate-keeper began scribbling quickly.
The instructor turned to the hall. "Silence, please."
He looked back at Nev. "What did you feel?"
Nev answered truthfully but simply. "The pattern tried to separate. It did not want to settle."
The instructor exchanged looks with two examiners nearby. One of them, a woman with silver hair tied back in a neat knot, approached the plate. She pressed her palm beside Nev's.
The device responded instantly to her. A single clean hue of green lit the runes, stable and bright.
She lifted her hand. The light vanished.
Then she looked at Nev with a thoughtful expression. "Your reactions do not match any known affinity," she said. "They are unusual."
Nev kept his face calm. "Is that a problem?"
"Not a problem," she answered softly, "but a concern for further study. You will not be released yet. Someone must evaluate your potential."
Nev stepped back when instructed. More candidates were tested, more runes lit and dimmed. But the whispers around him did not stop. His result had unsettled everyone who saw it.
When the hall finally emptied of candidates, only staff remained. The silver-haired examiner approached him again.
"You displayed layered patterns," she said. "Most people only connect once. Your thread seemed to try more than one pathway. That is rare."
Nev nodded once. "What happens now?"
"You wait. A tutor from one of the guilds will perform a private evaluation."
Guilds. The word vibrated oddly with memory. He had seen guilds before in his previous life, but none as organized or refined as the ones here.
They took him to the outer section of the hall where wooden benches lined the wall. Nev sat quietly. The shard remained still for a long moment, then gave a faint pulse, like a quiet knock against bone. He rubbed his chest lightly. No one noticed.
After a few minutes, he rose to stretch his legs. That was when he saw it.
A mark carved into the stone of the inner wall, near the exit. It was small, easy to miss, lightly inked, but unmistakable. An eye without a pupil.
Nev froze.
His breath did not change, but his heart tightened. He had seen this exact symbol in another world. The underground cages. The dark room. The trembling children. The symbol above the lantern light that marked the cult's presence.
He moved closer and traced the edges with his eyes. Same shape. Same hollow center.
It made no sense for it to be here. Not openly. Not in a place of authority.
A voice spoke from behind him. "Are you alright?"
Nev turned. The hall receptionist, a woman with bright eyes and a tired smile, was sorting papers at her desk.
Nev nodded at the symbol. "This mark. What is it?"
She blinked, surprised. "You do not know?"
"No."
"I thought you were Mr. Nolen's son. Your family is well connected with the guilds."
Nev did not react.
She stepped closer and tapped the mark lightly. "This is the emblem of the Obsidian Order. The strongest Holder guild in this region. Everyone knows it."
Nev kept his face empty. "What do they do?"
"A great many things," she said proudly. "They defend the city borders. They handle monster outbreaks. They train elite Holders. Their influence reaches far beyond this district."
Her voice lowered slightly, as though sharing something exciting. "They say their leader reached Tier Four long ago. Some believe he can suppress entire cities with his presence alone. Others claim he once fought a corrupted beast for three days without resting."
Nev listened without blinking. Tier Four. That was far above anything he had experienced. A power level few reached in their entire lives.
She smiled again. "The Obsidian Order only marks places where their members work or train. This hall is affiliated with them, so you will see the symbol often."
Nev nodded once and stepped away. She returned to her papers with no suspicion.
But Nev's stomach tightened. If this was the same symbol across worlds, then the cult he feared might be hiding under a different name in this world, perhaps stronger, perhaps more organized. Or perhaps the Obsidian Order was something entirely different, and the resemblance was only a warning from fate.
He did not trust fate.
Footsteps echoed across the hall.
Nev looked up.
A man walked toward him from the central doorway. His posture was tall and balanced, his steps smooth and controlled. He wore dark training clothes without decoration, the kind used by serious Holders. His presence filled the space quietly. People stepped aside without being asked.
The receptionist straightened. "Master Rian. Thank you for coming."
Nev's eyes narrowed slightly.
So this was the tutor.
Rian stopped in front of him and looked him over with steady interest. His eyes were dark and sharp. He did not smile.
"You are Nev," he said.
"Yes."
Rian studied him in silence for a long breath. Nev met his gaze without shifting. The shard inside him pulsed once, as if reacting to the man.
Rian finally spoke. "Your assessment results are unusual. I will oversee your further training."
Nev nodded.
"Tomorrow morning," Rian said. "Training Hall Three. Arrive before sunrise."
He turned to leave. His movements were smooth, like flowing water. A Flow Holder. Tier Two, as the receptionist hinted. Skilled enough to feel danger. Skilled enough to notice irregularities.
Nev watched him walk away.
The shard throbbed quietly, like a heartbeat responding to a threat.
Nev stepped back toward the hall corridor. He looked once more at the symbol on the wall, the hollow eye carved in stone. The receptionist had explained it with pride. But Nev felt only a familiar coldness rise inside him.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
And now he had entered the sight of a guild that he did not fully understand.
Tomorrow would begin the next step.
And danger was already close.