"Look! I have the power of fire," a girl cried out, her face lighting up with a triumphant smile as a sphere of dancing flames flickered into existence between her palms.
"What's so special about that? I was granted the power to command water," a boy countered. With a casual flick of his wrist, he drew a swirling ribbon of liquid from a nearby fountain, suspending it in mid-air.
It was the final day of school. While the courtyard buzzed with students testing their newly awakened abilities, a thin, frail seventeen-year-old boy stood alone in a shadowed corner. His frame was delicate, but his eyes burned with a sharp, defiant intensity.
"Hey, Aren. I heard you failed the awakening test."
A boy approached, his voice dripping with mockery and a cruel smile twisting his features. Aren remained silent, lowering his gaze to the pavement.
"So, should I take your silence as a yes?" the boy spat, his frustration mounting. He lunged forward, grabbing Aren roughly by the collar.
After a moment of hesitation, Aren finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "Yes… you heard right, Archer."
Archer released his grip and erupted into a boisterous, mocking laugh. "So it's true! You're a Null!"
The surrounding students turned at the sound of Archer's hysterics. One of Archer's lackeys smirked, leaning against a pillar. "What else did you expect from someone like Aren?"
"I knew it all along," another chimed in. "A loser like him was never going to pass."
The venomous words weren't new to Aren. He had been a pariah for years, but now the label was official. He was a Null one of the rare few who possessed no supernatural affinity at all.
"You mock those weaker than you, and I'm the loser?" Aren said, forced courage trembling in his voice. He knew the cost of speaking back, but he couldn't swallow his pride any longer.
"You've got a lot of nerve, you pathetic Null," Archer snapped. His eyes flashed with rage as he lunged toward him. His two friends followed suit, eager to join the fray.
This was the routine: harassment followed by a beating if Aren dared to resist. Archer's hand began to grey and harden, transforming into solid stone. "Today, I'm ending your story for good," he growled, pulling back a heavy, rocky fist.
"What is going on here?"
A commanding voice sliced through the tension. It was Mr. Bert, the school's senior instructor. The authority in his tone was absolute. "All students, return to your classes. Now. And Aren, come with me to the staff room."
As Mr. Bert walked away, Archer lingered for a moment, his stone fist slowly returning to flesh, his eyes burning with unfinished business.
In the quiet of the staff room, Mr. Bert looked at Aren with a heavy, serious expression. "Aren, I assume you know why I've called you here."
Aren looked up, his expression guarded. "Is this about the awakening test?"
"Yes," Mr. Bert replied. "You are a Null. You understand the implications of that."
"I do," Aren said quietly.
Mr. Bert sighed and took a seat. "Your admission to the (A.H.A.) will still proceed. However, due to your status, you will be placed in Group D."
Aren let out a dry, sarcastic chuckle. "Honestly, it doesn't matter. It'll be the same there as it is here. New place, same labels." He looked at the teacher with a hollow, weary gaze. The years of bullying had carved deep lines of exhaustion into his spirit.
Mr. Bert leaned forward, his voice dropping to a calm, resonant bass. "I know what you've endured. I cannot change the system, but I will tell you this: Today, you may have nothing. But the day will come when life offers you a second chance. Until then… don't give up."
For a fleeting second, a spark ignited in Aren's chest. But reality was a cold douser. He gave a small nod, knowing words were just a temporary shield against a cruel world.
As Aren turned to leave, Mr. Bert called out one last time. "You leave for A.H.A. tomorrow. Pack everything. That place is… well, it's nothing short of a circus."
A circus? Aren wondered as he walked home. He was still mulling over Mr. Bert's cryptic warning when a shadow blocked his path.
"Did you really think I'd let you walk away that easily?"
Aren turned to find Archer waiting for him, flanked by his two smiling companions. The fury in Archer's eyes hadn't dissipated; it had fermented.
"Archer, what is your problem with me?" Aren asked, his heart beginning to hammer against his ribs.
"Problem?" Archer smiled coldly. "I don't have a problem with you. Your only problem is your luck. You're a Null. People like you don't even deserve to draw breath."
Without another word, Archer's hands encased themselves in stone. He charged.
Seeing the murderous intent in Archer's eyes, Aren bolted. He veered off the road and into the dense jungle that bordered the path. He ran until his lungs burned, but he knew the effort was futile. Archer was an Awakened now; his physical limits were beyond those of a normal human.
The gap closed in seconds. Archer lunged, landing a brutal, stone-reinforced punch squarely in Aren's stomach. The force sent Aren spiraling through the air until he crashed into a gnarled tree root. The air left his lungs in a ragged gasp.
Before he could recover, Archer was over him, grabbing him by the collar and raining down blow after blow.
"What's the matter, worm?" Archer laughed, the sound bordering on manic. "Why aren't you talking now? You were so brave at school!"
Aren's vision began to fade. He was drifting toward the edge of consciousness when Archer's friends finally pulled him back.
"Stop, Archer! If he dies and The Order finds out, we're finished. Leave him."
Archer stepped back, breathing hard. He looked down at Aren. The boy's face was a mess of blood and broken bone, his features nearly unrecognizable. Panic began to replace Archer's rage. He knew the laws killing a Null was still a crime in the eyes of The Order.
"What do we do?" Archer hissed, his voice trembling. "If they find him like this…"
"He's going to die anyway," one of the boys whispered, pointing toward a dark jagged line in the earth nearby. "Throw him into the fissure."
It was a massive crack in the earth, plunging down into an abyss of shadow. Archer hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. He's an orphan. No one will come looking for a Null."
They dragged Aren's limp, broken body to the edge and shoved him into the dark. Aren couldn't scream. He couldn't even twitch a finger to stop his descent.
Is this how it ends? he thought as the wind rushed past his ears.
As he tumbled into the deep, his life flickered before him the loss of his parents in the war, the endless days of torment, and finally, Mr. Bert's voice echoing in the dark: Don't give up.
Then, the darkness claimed him. His eyes closed, and his heart slowed to a final, silent beat.
"What is this nuisance? And who, might I ask, are you?"
The voice was soft, yet it resonated with an ancient, terrifying authority.
Aren't slowly forced his eyes open. He wasn't in a cold, damp pit. He was standing in the center of a vast, silent palace that seemed to stretch into infinity.
Before him, seated upon a towering throne, was a man nearly nine feet tall. He was draped in pristine white robes that seemed to glow with their own light.
"Where… am I?" Aren whispered, his voice sounding strange in the hollow silence.
The giant on the throne leaned forward, a wicked, knowing smile spreading across his face.
"It seems," the man murmured, "that the hour of my freedom has finally arrived."