Hal glanced around. The auditorium was massive, easily able to hold a thousand people, a clear sign of just how selective HighGuard truly was.
A sudden clap echoed, and then a voice rang out, not from the speakers, but directly in Hal's mind. A female voice. He looked up. Standing before him was a woman with striking red hair and brown eyes. She looked like she could be a model—elegant, composed.
"Hello, everyone. First of all, I'd like to congratulate all of you for making it here." Her words were sharp and confident. "My name is Enforcer Sienna Hart, and I will guide you through your awakening, class assignment tournament, and, of course, maintaining order. Also, I am an Ascended, so no funny business. Well, with that said, let me explain how we will proceed."
As she spoke, a blue light surrounded her, shimmering and forming into a sort of lab—a sterile, clinical space.
"The awakening process will take place in a laboratory managed by the academy. It's designed to ensure your safety in case of failure."
Hal raised an eyebrow. The word failure didn't sound reassuring. He imagined it would likely lead to exploding, or something worse. He shifted his focus back to Sienna's speech.
"…Now, beyond the awakening process, there will be a class assignment tournament. A tournament in which we will assess your abilities after awakening, as well as how well you can manage them. There are three classes: The Low Tier Class, The Middle Tier Class, and The High Tier Class. Or, in other words: The Crescent Class, The Zenith Class, and The Eclipse Class. Each has its own advantages."
Sienna continued to explain, her voice unwavering, as she described the differences:
Low Tier: Dormitories shared by four people. No maid assigned. Training facilities are limited, and extra classes are restricted to one, aside from mandatory ones. The food hall offers basic meals.
Middle Tier: Private rooms. A maid assigned. Up to three extra classes. The food hall is more diversified and normal.
High Tier: Royal rooms with unlimited maids. No limits on extra classes. The food hall serves only the finest meals.
Hal looked around and saw the anxiety on the faces of the other students. He couldn't help but smirk internally. They're probably all rich kids, he thought. To him, none of it mattered. He didn't care about the luxuries; after all he used to live in the filthy streets where he had to fight to survive so even a room was great to him and any food was better than eating the remains of a rat.
Then, Enforcer Sienna proceeded to answer all questions from the students, when suddently a hand raised. It was a boy—brown-haired, shabby clothes, his face stressed. He looked completely out of place. Sienna pointed at him, her voice commanding.
"You, what is your question?"
He stammered, almost as if the pressure was too much. "M-may I ask... but aren't extra classes a bit useless? I mean, if we have enough Authority, can't we do anything?"
Sienna's lips curled into a slight smile, as if entertained. "Now, that's a really good question. Extra classes are as useful as your comprehension of Authority. First, they help with combat. Martial arts, swordsmanship, spearmanship—they strengthen your characteristic. Then, there are authority control classes, conceptual understanding classes, and more. These classes will give you an edge over others So in other words the more classes the stronger you are.Now since its settled does anyone else have any questions?"
No one else raised their hand.
"Well, that's wrapped up," Sienna said, her tone shifting. "Let's get you all to awaken."
At that, hooded men appeared in front of each of the students, and Hal recognized one of them immediately. It was the same Guide from the station.
Sienna continued, "These are your Guides—quite convenient for transportation and protection. Each one of them is an Ascended, so treat them well."
Each Guide began scribbling something in the air, and before Hal knew it, he was teleported into a sterile, brightly lit lab. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic. Scientists in lab coats moved around, ignoring his sudden appearance. It felt surreal.
A man in his mid-40s, with graying hair, tapped Hal on the shoulder. He seemed impatient.
"I assume you're Hal?" he asked, his voice clipped. "We're skipping pleasantries. Follow me."
Hal did as instructed, walking down a cold hallway until the man stopped in front of a white room. He unlocked the door and gestured for Hal to enter. Once Hal stepped inside, the man closed and locked the door behind him.
"Now, I shouldn't be explaining this, but here's how it goes. To awaken, you need to go through a process called Defying It's simple. All you have to do is look for the key."
Hal nodded.
Hal was suddenly handed a book by the man. Without a word, the man closed the door behind him and muttered, "Try not to go insane, kid."
As Hal opened the book, the very first characters on the page began to lift from the paper. They glowed faintly and floated into the air, swirling around him like living symbols of something ancient—primordial. Then it came: a voice. Otherworldly. Warped. Unclear yet paradoxically the clearest sound he had ever heard in his existence.
"SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT TO AUTHORITY. YOU SHALL SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT."
Hal trembled violently. The air around him grew impossibly heavy, pressing down on him like a collapsing world. Every breath was a battle. If he surrendered—even for a second—he knew he'd be crushed, pinned to the floor, his body bursting under the sheer pressure.
And then came the blood.
It started as a trickle. Then a flood. From his nose, his ears, his mouth, even his eyes—streams of blood leaked out, painting his face in crimson. His body convulsed, but still, he stood. He would not kneel. Not after everything.
His whole life had been struggle. He'd known pain intimately. He was no stranger to suffering. Was he really going to let it end here?
No.
He fought. Mentally, spiritually, physically—clinging to his will as if it were the last lifeline in a drowning sea. Seconds turned to hours. Or so it felt. Until finally—click—something inside his mind unlocked. A door opened within him.
With all his strength, he forced out a single word:
"Importance."
The floating letters froze, then gently descended back into the pages of the book, which snapped shut with a finality that echoed in the room.
Hal collapsed to one knee, panting. The blood still dripped, but the storm had passed. He had changed. His eyes, once simply dark, now mirrored the abyss—blacker than night, deeper than fear. His hair had deepened in shade, too, almost void-like.
He had survived the encounter.