Earth, Golden Empire Nation, Middle-Right Sector, School 2.
Today marked the Awakening Ceremony for all schools in the Middle-Right Sector of the Golden Empire Nation, a highly anticipated event.
School 2 was one of the twelve in this sector and amongst the nearly two hundred nationwide, each under the Empire's regimen to train talented awakeners.
These awakeners were the next generation of Evolvers, destined to enter trials and dangerous dimensions to confront beasts and monsters, safeguarding the world from further destruction.
After the first apocalypse, Earth had fractured into five nations: Crimson Confederacy, Azure Dominion, Obsidian Realm, Golden Empire, and Emerald Union.
For years, these nations pooled their resources together for survival against a common enemy, albeit with disputes among themselves. A programme to train and develop new fighters was established, and conducted for decades as a ritual.
Fortunately, the apocalypse had left some kind of residual energy in the air that granted people supernatural abilities called talents. With a talent, a simple human could transform into a metahuman, capable of facing monsters and disasters alike.
Gathered in the gymnasium of their school, the graduates sat in silence, hearts pounding.
Anxiety and excitement coiled within them, each wondering what talent they would awaken to possess, and what path it would set them on in a world that demanded strength to survive.
Jaren was the only one who wasn't excited.
Anxious? Yes. But excitement? That was a feeling he couldn't remember expressing.
Sitting in the front row of the gymnasium, he counted down the seconds until the elites arrived with their equipment, ready to begin the ceremony.
Around him, others whispered and shifted, hope glinting in their eyes, dreaming of powerful talents. Jaren didn't share their optimism.
He already knew the truth: his talent would be weak.
There was no point in getting his hopes up.
Apparently, prestigious talents often came with prestigious bloodlines in this world. If one parent possessed an Exceptional-rank talent, their child was almost guaranteed to awaken at Refined-rank and higher.
Exceptions existed, but Jaren wasn't going to count on luck. Luck has never visited him.
He was an orphan whose parents were non-awakeners, which meant his chances of manifesting a good talent were slim at best.
Anyone who looked at him would think the same.
He was frail, small, and sickly, compared to the richer, healthier classmates surrounding him. Everyone knew that for a boy like Jaren to fail his awakening, a life of utter doom was promised.
Jaren fixed his gaze on the ceremonial platform while the school counsellor and staff hurried about, preparing for the arrival of the elites.
Just minutes later, the atmosphere shifted as the gymnasium doors swung open, and a group of strange individuals strode in.
These were the elites, responsible for overseeing the awakening process, but their appearance could mislead anyone.
Dressed in dark military suits and armed with weapons that made the students flinch, they moved with a brisk, no-nonsense precision, as if time was scarce and they had countless other places to be.
The elites formed a line beside the students' seats, while their leaders stepped forward to engage with the school's authorities, with briefcases in hand.
The students shivered as the tall, imposing figures spoke in hushed tones, clearly discussing the proceedings. The gymnasium fell completely silent until the counsellor's voice rang out from the focal point.
"Welcome, students, to your Awakening Ceremony," he called. "These are your emissaries of the Middle-Right Sector. They will oversee the process today, so listen carefully and follow their instructions."
The head leader of the elites, a tall man with striking yellow hair, set his briefcase down and turned to face the students.
Tension crackled through the gymnasium; even without words, it was clear he was a man of authority. His multicoloured eye swept over every face, assessing each of them.
Finally, he spoke calmly, but with arrogance, "School 2. Underwhelming. On paper, and now that I see you in person… still underwhelming."
As he spoke, he clicked open the briefcase, leaving the students frozen, keenly aware that impressing him would be no small task.
Inside the briefcase were awakening equipment: energy syringes, talent nodes, and blood-testing apparatuses.
The elites had prepared multiple methods to conduct different awakening processes on students to ensure accuracy, versatility, and unpredictability on the day.
But the students didn't know this.
They only knew about the energy syringes.
"I trained for the syringe method! How can I be ready for all of this...?"
"I-I don't want the Talent Node thing! What if it messes me up?!"
"This wasn't in the briefing! My chance could actually drop now!"
Jaren heard murmurs and complaints ripple around him, but he didn't join in. He observed instead.
The yellow-haired man was smirking unimpressedly at their whining.
"What? You didn't know the exact procedures?" he asked rhetorically. "Your school's role is to train your bodies and discipline alone. Real knowledge on the nuances of talents and how they're acquired is learnt from here."
The students couldn't believe it. Disbelief spread across their faces as many turned to look at their tutors.
The tutors only gestured for them to stay calm as the elites began rearranging the gymnasium for the event.
Seeing their reaction, the yellow-haired man sighed and took it upon himself to explain.
"Alright, kids—I guess I'm frightening you too much," he said flatly. "For a change, my name's Fred."
He gestured toward the equipment.
"These are awakening tools. And if you thought you understood talents before, you were wrong. The chance of awakening is fifty–fifty."
50:50?
"Is he serious?"
"Then what were we training for all these years?"
"There are roughly three hundred of you here," Fred continued, enjoying the fear. "Statistically, only about one hundred and fifty will awaken. Don't worry, talent rank is independent of that outcome."
The murmurs grew louder.
"So… half of us won't awaken at all?"
"That's insane."
After five long years of relentless training, discipline, and sacrifice, the realization hit School 2 like a bombshell. Many of them would leave this place no different from ordinary humans.
Jaren tried to deduce everything that had been said.
Now he faced not just the chance of awakening a low-rank talent, but the possibility of not awakening at all.
This was the worst isekai ever.
No—he had to awaken.
This had to be the turning point in this wretched new life.
There was nothing left to lose.
As names began to be called from the platform and students stepped forward to begin the ceremony, a shadow loomed beside him.
Someone scoffed softly. Jaren looked up.
It was Vincent Whitegold, his school bully, wearing a smug smile that made Jaren's stomach sink.
"You heard that, right, Jaren?" Vincent sneered. "Fifty percent chance you don't awaken? Haha! After all those prayers and all that training.".
His friends snickered behind him.
Jaren looked up calmly with heavy eyes. "But you also have a fifty percent chance."
Vincent frowned but smiled again.
"Can you really compare us?" he scoffed. "My mother's the headmistress. I've got status, wealth—I'll live in abundance even without a talent." He sneered. "You? They should just throw you into a dimension already. Save some oxygen."
Jaren said nothing as they brushed past him, their laughter fading away.
They were right.
In this world, he had no chance at all. He was an expendable NPC.
A talent, any talent, was the only leverage he could gain, no matter how low the rank.
Jaren straightened his back and fixed his gaze forward as the awakening process began in earnest. Names were called one after another, students stepping up to meet their fate.
Some returned trembling with joy, others fled the gymnasium in tears. No talents were announced aloud, yet it was obvious who had awakened and who hadn't—from the elites' reactions, and from the hollow looks on the students' faces.
After a while, filled with both losses and gains, the counsellor's voice rang out, "Lyra Darkheart!"
A ripple of excitement swept through the gymnasium. Lyra was the daughter of a powerful elite from the Darkheart family, and the school's belle.
Her awakening ought to draw the full attention of her peers.
Seconds after she stepped forward, another name followed.
"Vincent Whitegold!"
Vincent strode proudly toward the elites with his usual pride, ready to win or lose without shame. Jaren secretly prayed for his failure, but luck was never on his side.
"Yes! A dominant-rank talent! I got a Dominant-rank talent!" Vincent shouted, unable to contain himself.
Fred nodded approvingly. "Congratulations. Dominant rank is rare. You're among the few, so far," he said coolly. "We have plans for you. Well done."
Applause rang through the gymnasium—Lyra had awakened as well.
Jaren watched silently, imagining himself standing among them, bathed in approval. But he knew better. That kind of ending wasn't meant for someone like him.
So, he braced himself for the worst as the counselor echoed his name.
"Jaren Slate!"
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Welcome, men of culture, to this book! I'll loud this: read tags! ^_________^ Spoiler: MC has kind of a bit of a problem. He just wants it all! Please, support with powerstones and golden tickets!