It was a breezy day in early autumn, the kind of morning that usually promised new beginnings. The sky above the capital city of Valoria was a piercing, indifferent azure, scrubbed clean of clouds by the high-altitude winds. Leaves, just beginning to turn the color of rusted iron, skittered across the cobblestones of the Central Plaza, dancing between the boots of the thousands of people gathering in silence.
Despite the crisp, refreshing weather, the atmosphere on the ground was heavy.
Today was the Annual Awakening.
In the center of the district stood the Great Awakening Hall, a colossal structure of white marble and reinforced mana-glass. For one hundred and fifty years, ever since the System descended, this building had served as the starting line for humanity.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of ozone and the nervous sweat of three thousand eighteen-year-olds.
Eidon Axiom stood near the back of the massive holding pit, hands in the pockets of his black academy uniform. He shifted his weight, trying to find a comfortable spot on the hard stone floor. Unlike the terrified students hyperventilating around him, he was quiet, his dark eyes scanning the crowd with a practiced calm.
He wasn't a genius, but he was prepared. He had spent the last year studying Awakener success rates, guild recruitment patterns, and dungeon logistics. He knew that panic was the enemy of efficiency.
"Civilian or Awakener," he thought, watching a recruiter from the Steel Vanguard Guild chat with a high-ranking official in the stands. "Two different worlds."
It wasn't a caste system—not officially. People were free to choose their paths. But the reality was simple: Awakeners fought monsters and earned fortunes. Civilians worked 9-to-5 jobs behind the safety of the city arrays.
"Eidon."
The soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned, his expression softening as he looked at the girl beside him.
Moira Nyx.
She was stunning, her silver hair standing out like a beacon in the sea of dark uniforms. Her blue eyes, usually sharp and confident, were currently fixed on him with fierce intensity.
"You're doing that thing again," she whispered, nudging his arm.
"What thing?"
"Thinking too loud," she said, a small, anxious smile playing on her lips. "You get that crease between your eyebrows when you're analyzing things."
Eidon rubbed his forehead, offering a small smile back. "Just wondering what the odds are for us today."
"Don't," Moira said, her voice dropping. She stepped closer, her hand brushing his. It wasn't a desperate cling, just a gentle reassurance. "We promised. No matter what happens, we stick together. I don't care if I get S-Rank or F-Rank, I'm not signing with a guild that won't take you too."
"That's bad business, Moira," Eidon teased gently, though his chest tightened. "If you awaken a Combat Class and I get 'Tailor', you can't exactly drag me into a dungeon."
"Watch me," she replied, her eyes flashing with a stubbornness he knew all too well. "I'll hire you as my personal stylist. I don't care. We don't drift apart. Period."
Eidon nodded, letting the silence settle between them. That was their biggest fear—not the monsters, but the drift. If their power levels were too different, their lives would naturally separate. He would be left in an office while she spent weeks in the Otherworld.
"Attention!"
The amplified voice of the presiding official boomed across the hall. On the central platform, a man in a white uniform stood next to the Awakening Stone—a jagged shard of obsidian floating above a pedestal.
"When your name is called, approach the Stone. You have five seconds. If there is no reaction, you are Dormant. Proceed to the exit."
"First candidate. Kaelen Ironblood."
A ripple of whispers broke out.
"Ironblood? His dad runs the Steel Vanguard." "I heard they bought him an A-Grade Elixir to purify his mana channels. Rich kid."
A tall, confident youth strode up the stairs. Kaelen didn't look nervous; he looked like he was collecting a delivery. He slapped his hand on the Stone.
VROOOOM.
A pillar of crimson light erupted, bathing the hall in a blood-red glow.
[ Class: Berserker ][ Rank: A ]
The crowd erupted. A-Rank. 10 Stats per level right out of the gate. He was already stronger than 90% of the room.
Kaelen pumped his fist, soaking in the cheers before walking down to the VIP recruitment area.
"Show off," Moira muttered.
The ceremony dragged on. It was a lottery of fate.
"Marcus Vane! Warrior, D-Rank." A sigh of relief. Standard grunt work, but it paid the bills. 8 Stats per level was decent.
"Sarah Miller! Awakening Failed."
The girl wept silently as she walked down the side stairs. No magic. No stats. Just a normal life.
Eidon watched, his stomach churning slightly. He wasn't afraid of a normal life, but he was afraid of being powerless to protect the one person who mattered.
"Eidon Axiom!"
The name cut through the air.
Moira squeezed his hand, hard. "Go. You got this."
"Thanks," Eidon exhaled.
He walked up the stairs. The metal grating clanged under his boots. The eyes of the crowd bored into his back.
He reached the pedestal. The Awakening Stone hovered there, silent and cold. It looked less like a magical artifact and more like a piece of the void itself.
"Touch the Stone," the instructor said, bored.
Eidon reached out. Please, he thought. Just give me something I can work with.
He pressed his palm against the obsidian.
For a split second, the stone remained cold.
Then, the world screamed.
It wasn't a sound of pain, but a resonance of pure power. A shockwave of golden light exploded from the pedestal, blasting outward with enough force to knock the instructor back a step. The boredom vanished from the man's face, replaced by sheer, unadulterated terror.
The light didn't stop at the ceiling. It pierced through the reinforced mana-glass roof, shooting a beam of brilliance straight into the autumn sky, parting the clouds for miles.
The Awakening Hall fell deathly silent.
Eidon stood in the center of the pillar, his hair floating in the updraft of raw mana. He wasn't in pain. He felt... heavy. Like the weight of the sky had just been placed on his shoulders.
Above the platform, the holographic display—usually barely large enough to be read by the front row—expanded. It grew massive, the letters burning with a divine, blinding gold that forced students in the back rows to shield their eyes.
[ CLASS AWAKENED ]
[ Library of Heavens ]
[ RANK: SSS ]
The silence broke.
"SSS?!" someone screamed, their voice cracking in hysteria.
"The Forefather? Is it a second coming?!"
"No way... the sensors must be broken! SSS doesn't exist!"
The instructor was trembling, his datapad clattering to the floor. "Triple S..." he whispered, his face pale. He looked at Eidon as if he were looking at a monster. The crowd began to surge forward, recruiters from the VIP boxes nearly toppling over the railings, already shouting offers, their dignity forgotten in the face of a legend reborn.
But before the chaos could fully erupt, the golden light flickered.
A second line of text appeared beneath the rank. It wasn't gold. It was a dull, stagnant grey, dripping like old oil against the divine brilliance of the class title.
[ CONDITION: DERMIT ]
The cheering died in throats. The excitement curdled into confusion.
"Dermit?" a student whispered near the front. "What is that?"
"Is it a title? Like 'The Great'?"
"No, look at the color," another muttered, pointing at the grey text. "System messages are never grey unless... unless it's a restriction."
"I've heard that word before in ancient texts," a Guild Scout shouted over the murmurs, though he sounded unsure. "Dermit... it implies stagnation. A lock?"
"Does it mean he can't use mana?"
"Maybe it means he's dangerous?"
The whispers spread like wildfire, fueled by ignorance. No one knew exactly what it meant, but the visual language of the System was clear: Gold was divine, Red was power, but Grey... Grey was dead weight.
Eidon stood there, the golden light fading, leaving the stark, conflicting text hanging in the air above him.
[ SSS-Rank ][ Dermit ]
He pulled his hand back. His heart was pounding, but his face remained a mask of stone. He felt the gaze of three thousand people shifting from reverence to uncertainty in real-time. They didn't know whether to bow or to pity him.
The instructor cleared his throat, picking up his datapad with shaking hands. He looked at the screen, which was flashing with error codes he couldn't parse.
"Candidate Eidon Axiom," the instructor stammered. "Class... SSS-Rank. Condition... Dermit."
He didn't say "Congratulations." He didn't offer a badge. He just stared, paralyzed by the anomaly.
Eidon turned and walked to the stairs. The crowd parted for him, wide-eyed and silent. They looked at him like he was a walking paradox—a king with a broken crown.
He found Moira in the crowd. She wasn't looking at the text. She was looking at him. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, her knuckles white. Her eyes were blazing with a mixture of shock and fierce, protective anger, daring anyone in the crowd to say a negative word.
Eidon reached her side. The students around them backed away, giving them a wide circle of isolation.
"Eidon..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "SSS... but the condition….?"
"I know," Eidon lied softly. "i'll explain later."
He looked up at the fading text in the air, then lowered his gaze.
At the edge of his vision, invisible to the world that was currently debating his worth, a blue interface pulsed with a steady, inviting rhythm.
[ Talent Awakened: The Universal Shop (S-Rank) ]
Eidon watched the notification shimmer. While the hall drowned in speculation about his limitations, he focused on the one thing that had no limits.