Aren stepped forward.
He didn't wait for Captain Eric's instruction.
The faint murmur that lingered after Evelyn's awakening hadn't fully settled yet, but Aren had already reached the front of the classroom.
His movements were calm and deliberate, like something he'd practiced countless times before.
Captain Eric frowned slightly.
"…Place your—"
Aren's hand was already on the amplifier.
The metal was cold beneath his palm, but the sensation barely registered. Compared to the corrosive pain of his last moments, this was nothing.
Ether flowed from his arm and into the metal.
Several students leaned forward unconsciously, expecting another projection, another display like Jakob's falcon or Evelyn's jade spirit.
Aren ignored it all, drawing attention inside.
And the classroom vanished.
White swallowed everything.
Aren stood within his internal world.
It was vast, silent and boundless, but noticeably smaller than it had been at his peak. Focusing, his awareness slid naturally toward the presence sleeping within him.
At the center, the Snake lay coiled.
Aren exhaled slowly.
I can find you even without help now.
He stepped forward and placed his hand against the Snake's head.
The moment he touched it, the world responded.
Light spread outward from the space around it. The Internal Canvas revealed its true form, lines and pathways unfolding, like invisible ink brought to life.
The Snake remained at the center.
But now, the Bloodline Template was visible.
And from the empty space before him, the Internal Brush descended gently into his palm.
Aren raised the brush, ink gathered at its tip, waiting for his intent.
For a moment, nothing moved.
The Snake remained coiled beneath him, its template hovering faintly in the white expanse. The path the world had prepared for it. The path that he'd gone through once already.
Aren's hand trembled.
Was he really about to do this again?
The memory surged without warning.
The rooftop, rain, and his body corroding as he fell.
But more than the pain, more than the fall—
He remembered Lucas' shit-eating grin.
With the Snake, he would never surpass Lucas' Tyrant Mane Lion.
Aren exhaled slowly, the tremor in his hand fading.
To follow the same path is to tip the same old cart again.
Aren lifted his gaze, not at the template before him, but to his memories.
"I already know the answer," he murmured.
A memory resurfaced.
In a forgotten corner of an old bookstore, a wise old man handed him a dust-covered book. Aren thought the man was a scammer, but the book turned out to hold great secrets. Written by a philosopher from the early eras, many dismissed him as delusional.
But Aren had remembered a specific line.
"A snake who lived long enough will eventually grow wings and ascend to the heavens."
At the time, he had laughed.
By the time he understood, it had been too late.
"That was your mistake," he said softly, to himself, to the world, to the heavens that had turned him away once before.
"And mine."
But Aren could already see what it lacked.
He raised the brush again.
This time, there was no hesitation.
He did not align it with the existing outline.
The brush moved higher.
Above the Snake.
"A Snake that waits patiently is one that dies," Aren said quietly.
Light gathered at the tip, Ether surging violently as the Canvas began to tremble in response.
"One that takes opportunities…become true dragons!"
The moment the brush touched the Canvas, the weight descended.
Aren's hand lurched violently as if an unseen force had seized his wrist, dragging the stroke downward, pulling it back toward the Snake's waiting template.
His teeth clenched.
So that was it.
The will of the world.
The Canvas rejected deviation, with insistence—like a teacher guiding a child's hand back onto the proper line.
Aren's arm shook.
The light at the tip of the brush flickered as Ether poured out of him. He gathered every scrap he could force through his meridians, ignoring the tearing pain that followed.
His vision swam, the white expanse blurring as his knees buckled beneath the sudden weight.
He dropped to one knee.
The Canvas pressed down harder.
Wrong, it seemed to whisper. This is not how it is drawn.
Aren growled, muscles screaming as he forced the brush back upward.
Last time, he thought, breath coming in ragged gasps, I submitted.
Ether surged, ripping free of restraint as the green light flared brighter than before. Cracks spread across the Canvas, fine lines spiderwebbing outward from the point of contact.
This time, I will not yield.
With a shaking arm, he dragged the brush forward in a final sweep, carving the impossible into existence.
The Snake stirred beneath him, form tensing as the Canvas changed entirely. It grew limbs, grew a horn, and finally wings—before taking off into the sky.
Aren stared for a second.
Did…he fail?
For a heartbeat, nothing answered him.
The white sky stretched on endlessly, empty and silent, as if the Canvas itself had swallowed the result.
Chen Yu's chest tightened.
Then—
The clouds parted.
In a sudden blur, its large body surged forward, cutting through the white expanse. Wind howled where none had existed before, pressure rippling outward as a dragon descended from the skies.
Two elegant horns curved back from its brow, polished and jade-like rather than jagged. Moving gently with the new breeze of wind.
Majestic scales lined its body, each one smooth and refined. Darker hues traced its underside, while lighter tones shimmered along its back like sunlight passing through clear water.
The dragon did not roar.
It circled him once, then again, its massive body passing close enough that Aren could feel the displacement of air against his skin.
Then it slowed.
It hovered before him, gazing into the depths of his soul before disappearing back into nodes of ink on his Canvas.
—In the classroom—
The amplifier shook with light.
A concussive wave burst outward, invisible yet undeniable, slamming into the walls and rattling every desk in the room. Windows shuddered violently. Papers flew. Several students cried out as the pressure washed over them like a sudden storm.
"What's happening?!"
Captain Eric reacted instantly, planting his foot and throwing up a defensive barrier as the force surged past him.
Aren.
The boy stood unmoving before the amplifier, hand still pressed to the metal.
Captain Eric's breath caught.
"This isn't an awakening surge…" he muttered. "This is a Line being formed."
"…He's trying to draw his First Line," he whispered.
It was utter madness.
Yet, he wanted to keep watching. Captain Eric knew that one mistake could ruin this kid's future, turning him into a Defiler.
But a part of him was curious about this kid's potential. Only geniuses could draw their First Line on Awakening.
His fingers tightened slowly.
Captain Eric lowered his hand by an inch.
"…If I interrupt now," he said quietly, eyes never leaving Eric, "I might be the one who ruins his future."
"…Very well," he murmured.
"Show me what you become."
BOOM!
A final shockwave erupted outward, far denser than before, slamming into Captain Eric's barrier and forcing him back half a step. The classroom groaned as if struck by a sudden pressure drop.
At the front of the room, Aren's hand slipped free of the metal.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
Aren swayed once, then steadied himself, breath shallow but controlled.
Captain Eric stared.
The projection manifested as an unusual one. It was a Snake no doubt, yet it had elegant wings and an unmistakable golden hue, deeper and more refined than anything he'd ever seen. Even at a glance, it carried a pressure that didn't belong to a first awakening.
Captain Eric's eyes narrowed.
"An Evolution…"
There was only one Bloodline that invoked such majesty…and fear onto him.
"...Dragon-type," Captain Eric announced at last.
The whole class went up in gasps, whispers started amongst each other.
"No way, did he actually do that?"
"Is Aren a genius?!"
"He is both a Dragon-type AND got to 1 Line on Awakening?"
Aren sighed and walked back to his seat slowly, but not before he caught a glimpse of the Ice Queen staring at him.
Caleb nudged his shoulder as he sat, congratulating him with a wide grin. Aren sighed but couldn't hold down the grin on his face.
The First Impossible step was done.
Next was to get as strong as possible.