The streets outside the Awakening Center were absolutely packed. It was the sixteenth of the month—Baptism Day. Thousands of teenagers and their nervous parents shuffled toward the massive steel-and-glass headquarters of the Association. The slum heat of Maharlika City was suffocating, but the sheer, desperate tension in the air was way worse.
All around Cardo, the crowd wouldn't stop buzzing. The 16th Rite was basically a life-or-death lottery, and everyone was praying to hit the jackpot.
"I heard the Prime Light Guild has scouts waiting right by the exit. Direct invites and signing bonuses for anyone Rank B or higher..."
"Man, I just need a C-Rank. A Combat-C. I am *not* going back to the rim factories."
"Don't get your hopes up. My cousin awakened last month with a D-Rank support mark. Now he's hauling Aether-ore out in the Dead Zones. You know the mortality rate for low tiers..."
Every whispered conversation was a harsh reminder of how Nexus-Earth worked. For every glowing, high-tier tattoo, there were a hundred broken dreams. The fear of waking up with a trash talent hung over everyone's heads.
Cardo kept his head down and pushed his way through the sea of people. Clarissa, who was only six and barely reached his waist, gripped his sleeve so hard her knuckles were white. She let him pull her through the crushing crowd.
Once they finally made it inside, the sweaty heat of the street vanished, replaced by a freezing, sterile chill. The fluorescent lights hummed with a vibration that made Cardo's teeth ache. The air smelled like damp concrete and the nervous sweat of thousands of kids waiting for the government to stamp a price tag on their lives.
"Stop shaking, you big dummy," a sharp voice hissed.
Cardo looked down. Clarissa was glaring up at him with a severe scowl, her pigtails tied perfectly with bright red ribbons. "If you fail and stay a civilian, I'm going to have to work twice as hard to feed you. You're already a bottomless pit."
Cardo managed a weak smile and reached out to ruffle her hair. "I'll be fine, Clarissa. It's just a drink."
"Don't touch me! You'll mess up my ribbons!" she snapped, slapping his hand away with a sharp *smack*.
She spun around, her small shoulders hitching as she marched toward the waiting area. She refused to look back—she couldn't—but her tiny hands were balled into trembling fists. To the heavily armored Iron Aegis guards walking the halls, she was just another noisy brat. They didn't notice the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering while she waited for her brother to face the music.
"Test Taker 502: Cardo. Proceed to the Baptismal Chamber," a mechanical voice boomed over the intercom.
Cardo took a deep, shaky breath. Before he could even take a step toward the heavy steel doors, a small voice cut through the hum of the hallway.
"Hey."
He looked back. Clarissa had stopped at the edge of the waiting area. She wasn't glaring anymore. Her large eyes were wide and suspiciously shiny, and she gripped her red ribbons tightly to keep her hands from shaking.
"You better come out of there with a high rank," she called out, her voice shaky but fierce. "Don't you dare come out a loser. Because... because I know you're not. You're the strongest guy I know, dummy."
The heavy weight sitting on Cardo's chest suddenly felt a little lighter. A real, warm smile spread across his face, and he threw her a crisp, exaggerated salute.
"I hear you loud and clear, boss. Wait right here. I'll make you proud."
Clarissa sniffled, furiously rubbing her eyes with her sleeve before turning her back again. "Just hurry up and go!"
Holding onto that warmth, Cardo turned and walked through the heavy doors.
Inside, the room was a cage of glass and metal. In the center stood an Association official. The Crest on his neck—a sharp, gold lightning bolt—burned so bright it left an afterimage in Cardo's vision. He was holding a small vial of Aether-Serum. It was thick and swirled like liquid black glass.
"Drink," the official ordered. "And try not to choke."
Cardo downed the serum. It didn't taste like medicine. It felt like swallowing a handful of melted lead that instantly tried to claw its way out of his stomach.
**[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: AETHER-ELIXIR DETECTED. INITIALIZING EVOLUTIONARY SPIKE.]**
Fire exploded in his right wrist. It was a grinding, crushing pressure, like his bones were being violently rearranged. He hit the floor, gasping for air as the Awakener Detector started screaming. The high-pitched whine drowned out the frantic pounding of his own heart.
The official checked the monitor. His lazy, bored expression slipped for a second, softening into a look of quiet pity. "Wait. What is this? The resonance is... flat."
Cardo clutched his wrist, his skin burning hot. He had expected a glowing, badass brand of power. Instead, he stared at a ragged, ugly smudge. It looked like someone splashed dirty ink onto his skin and let it soak into his pores. It was just a broken bruise of a tattoo that refused to take a proper shape.
"ARI Score: 1.2. Rank E," the official said, clicking his pen with a soft sigh. "Talent: Basic Clone. A utility-grade talent."
He gestured gently toward the back exit. "It's not the combat role you wanted, kid, but it's not the end of the road. You can still apply for the civilian logistics corps, or look into farming out in the safe zones. There's honest, safe work out there for you. Keep your chin up."
Cardo just stared at the smudge. The world suddenly felt a lot smaller and way colder. The man's pity honestly felt heavier than straight-up hatred.
He had failed.
But as he dragged himself up from the floor, he noticed something weird. His shadow wasn't mimicking his movements. When he stood up, the silhouette stayed crouched on the floor for a split second longer, then slowly rose up like a dark, 2D ghost.
It had no face. No voice. No warmth. It was just a hollow, silent outline standing perfectly still, waiting for an order Cardo didn't even know how to give. It was nothing more than a puppet made of ink—yet Cardo felt a weird, thin thread connecting him to it, like a phantom limb he hadn't figured out how to use yet.
He walked out of the chamber, the silent shadow gliding behind him like a dark stain on the tiles. He had the lowest rank in the city, a broken tattoo, and a creepy, mindless shadow is it?
But he was still alive and breathing. And Clarissa was still waiting.