Kael Vane woke up on the morning of his Awakening with a pimple the size of a small moon on his forehead.
"This is fine," he told his reflection. "S-Rank prodigies can have acne. It's... relatable. Charming. The ladies love a flawed hero."
The pimple throbbed. It had its own gravitational field. Kael was pretty sure he saw a tiny civilization forming near his left eyebrow.
He was nineteen years old, six hours away from receiving his Class from the System that governed reality itself, and he couldn't stop poking his face.
"Stop that," said Jace, his roommate and only friend, who was currently eating cereal directly from the bag. "You're making it angry."
"The pimple or the System?"
"Both. Definitely both."
Kael flopped onto his cot. The Awakening Chamber waited like a judgmental dentist's office. In six hours, he would either become something legendary or something... not.
His test scores predicted S-Rank. The highest in the sector. The Academy had tracked him since he was twelve, whispering about his "potential," his "compatibility," his "destiny to reshape the world."
Kael just wanted to not embarrass himself.
And maybe have clear skin.
"You're going to be fine," Jace said, mouth full of cornflakes. "You're the golden boy. The chosen one. The protagonist."
"Don't say that."
"Why?"
"Because the moment someone calls you the protagonist, you get a tragic backstory and a dead mentor." Kael sat up. "Have you noticed? Every legendary Awakened has dead parents. It's like a requirement."
Jace considered this. "Your parents died in the Year 5 dungeon break."
"Exactly! I've already checked the tragic backstory box! I'm doomed to either greatness or dramatic suffering, and honestly, I'd prefer mediocrity with health insurance."
The pimple pulsed. Kael swore it winked at him.
---
The Awakening Chamber was white. Sterile. Designed to make you feel like you were being born, judged, and buried simultaneously.
Two hundred teenagers stood in rows, vibrating with terror and energy drinks. Kael was in row 12, position 7, trying not to scratch his face.
"Nervous?" asked the girl next to him. Mira, he thought her name was. White hair, nervous smile, clutching a charm necklace like it could protect her.
"I'm wearing my lucky underwear," Kael said. "They're not actually lucky. I just haven't done laundry in three weeks."
Mira stared at him.
"That was a joke," Kael added. "I'm coping with humor. It's a defense mechanism."
"It needs work."
"Tell me about it."
The proctor entered. Severe woman. [Appraiser] Class, which meant she could see your stats, your potential, your soul probably. She looked like she'd never smiled and considered that a virtue.
"Awakening begins," she announced. "Row one, prepare."
Blue light flooded the first row. [Warrior], [Mage], [Rogue], the standard starter pack. One girl got [Beast Tamer] and immediately sneezed, summoning a spectral cat that tried to eat her shoes.
"That's new," someone whispered.
"Row two."
More blue. More Classes. A boy got [Chef] and burst into tears. Not everyone gets to be a hero, Kael thought. Some people just get to make really good soup.
Row by row, the Chamber filled with light and emotion. Screams, laughter, one person who just stood there saying "huh" repeatedly.
Kael watched the colors. He'd studied the distribution rates obsessively. 60% common, 30% uncommon, 9% rare, 1% epic or higher. With his scores, he was guaranteed at least rare.
Please let it be something cool, he thought. Not [Accountant]. I couldn't handle [Accountant].
Row 11. Jace's row. His friend lit up green—[Enchanter], support Class, excellent for Guild placement. Jace whooped and immediately tried to enchant his own shoes. They turned purple and started singing.
"Row 12," the proctor said.
Position 1. [Archer]. Position 2. [Alchemist]. Position 3. [Berserker]. Position 4. [Cleric]. Position 5. [Shadow]. Position 6. [Elementalist].
Position 7.
Kael Vane.
The light hit him like a physical force. For one glorious second, it was gold—epic tier, thank you, thank you—then it started... glitching.
The gold flickered. Stuttered. Turned a color that Kael's brain couldn't process, like trying to see a new primary color.
Then:
[NULL]
Not "no Class." Not "failed Awakening." The word appeared in broken brackets, flickering, wrong, like a glitch in reality itself. Below it, smaller text:
[ERROR: CLASS NOT FOUND]
[ERROR: PATH UNDEFINED]
[ERROR: SUBJECT IS BEING WEIRD]
[RECOMMENDATION: ???]
"Um," Kael said.
The proctor frowned. "System, re-scan subject Vane."
[SCANNING...]
[SCANNING...]
[SCANNING...]
[RESULT: NULL]
[SECOND OPINION: ALSO NULL]
[THIRD OPINION: HAVE YOU TRIED TURNING HIM OFF AND ON AGAIN?]
"What does that mean?" Kael asked.
The proctor wouldn't meet his eyes. "It means... you're not compatible with the System. You're..."
She paused. The System added helpfully:
[ARCHIVE? Y/N]
"Archive?" Kael's voice cracked. "Like... delete?"
"Not delete," the proctor said, but she was lying. They both knew she was lying. "Just... storage. You're an anomaly. The System doesn't know what to do with you."
"But my scores—"
"Scores are potential. The System is reality." She turned away, already losing interest. "Next row."
They moved on.
Kael stood in the broken light, staring at [NULL] until his eyes burned, until Jace pulled him away, until the Chamber emptied and he was alone with a word that meant nothing and emptiness and you thought you were special but you're just a bug in the code.
The pimple on his forehead throbbed in sympathy.
"Hey," Jace said, awkward, unsure. "Maybe it's not that bad? Maybe [NULL] is... rare? Like, super secret rare?"
"Jace."
"Yeah?"
"My notification just gained a personality." Kael pointed at the floating text. [--] had appeared next to [NULL]. "I think the System is mocking me."
[SYSTEM DENIES ALL MOCKERY. SYSTEM IS SERIOUS AND IMPORTANT. (¬‿¬)]
"Okay," Jace said. "That's definitely mocking you."
Kael touched the notification. It felt like static, like the moment before a sneeze, like trying to remember a dream.
[HELLO? IS THIS THING ON?]
"Oh no," Kael whispered. "It's chatty."
[SUBJECT VANE HAS BEEN CLASSIFIED AS: PROBLEM. SUBJECT VANE IS ADVISED TO: STOP BEING A PROBLEM. HAVE A NICE DAY! (◕‿◕✿)]
Kael looked at his best friend. Looked at the empty Chamber. Looked at his future, which had just gone from "legendary hero" to "error message with emoji."
"I need a drink," he decided.
"You're nineteen."
"I need to want a drink. Desperately."
They left the Chamber. Kael's [NULL] followed, flickering, occasionally displaying random cat pictures for no discernible reason.
He was going to have a very interesting life.
Or a very short one.
Probably both.
---