The moment school let out, Elijah bolted.
The crowd of students flooded into the streets of New Haven, chatting, laughing, sparring with harmless practice spells. Elijah, though, kept his head low and weaved through them like a shadow, his mind racing far faster than his legs.
He needed answers. Fast.
After dinner last night, he hadn't slept. His conversation with his father still echoed in his head — Marcus' voice gentle but firm:
"You're smart, Elijah. Smarter than most. If anyone can pull this off, it's you. But don't you dare get yourself killed."
Elijah exhaled sharply as he ducked into one of the city's smaller transport hubs. It was less crowded, older, and far cheaper to ride to the outer districts. The mag-rails here still clanked and groaned with every shift — most people avoided these outdated lines if they could.
Which is perfect for me, Elijah thought, tapping his fare chip and sliding into one of the worn carriages.
As the train lurched into motion, his fingers idly drummed against the device strapped beneath his jacket — the stabilizer his father had given him.
Now all I need… is a place crazy enough to use it.
The outer districts of New Haven were a far cry from the glowing towers and pristine streets of the central city. Here, the buildings were smaller, patchworked together with a mix of old-world tech and jury-rigged mana infrastructure. Neon signs flickered. Steam vents hissed. The whole place hummed with an undercurrent of barely controlled chaos.
Elijah had done his homework. Every free moment between classes, he'd buried himself in public records, old geological surveys, even obscure mana flow studies archived deep in the city's public data vaults.
There weren't many places near New Haven where natural mana concentrations still lingered at dangerous levels. The Council had long since regulated and harvested most high-density zones for energy production or cultivation grounds for elites.
But not all of them.
One location kept popping up again and again in the historical records: the abandoned mining zone just beyond District 47 — The Hollow Verge.
Originally a deep crystal excavation site, it had been shut down decades ago after a series of "unstable mana events" that left several workers dead and most of the equipment in ruins. The Council sealed it off, citing hazardous environmental risks. But to Elijah, that only meant one thing:
Residual mana.
A perfect, unstable, highly dangerous source.
Exactly what he needed.
Navigating the outskirts wasn't easy.
Elijah slipped between old fences and makeshift barriers, avoiding the few patrol drones that still lazily orbited the restricted zone. His breathing grew shallow as the city faded behind him and the industrial ruins of the old mine loomed ahead.
The Hollow Verge looked like a scar ripped into the earth — massive jagged chasms webbing out from the original mine shaft, with faint streams of luminescent mist curling through the air.
Elijah stood at the edge, eyes wide. He could feel it. Not physically — but somewhere beneath his skin, beneath his bones, there was an unnatural pressure that hadn't been there moments ago.
His stabilizer pinged softly in response.
Mana Field Detected: 28% Saturation.
Safe Threshold: Stable.
This was just the perimeter. The real concentration would be further inside.
He took a cautious step forward, boots crunching against loose gravel and scorched crystal shards.
The Hollow Verge was silent but alive.
Strange growths clung to the rock faces — translucent fungi pulsing gently with soft blue light. Small floating motes of mana shimmered in the air like lazy fireflies. The place was beautiful in a dangerous sort of way, like standing inside a living wound.
As Elijah walked, he spoke aloud, partly to calm his nerves.
"Okay… stabilizer's holding. Air feels heavier but manageable. No signs of collapse yet. Good. Good."
His voice echoed softly off the cavern walls.
The tunnel forked several times as he moved deeper. Occasionally, he'd pause to check the stabilizer readout and make small adjustments to the regulator settings. Each adjustment let him go just a little further without risking overload.
But even with the stabilizer, his skin prickled. His head throbbed faintly, like altitude sickness but stranger.
He finally reached a narrow passage where the mist thickened into dense swirls, making it harder to see more than a few feet ahead. The walls themselves began to faintly hum — not from wind, but from raw, vibrating energy.
The stabilizer beeped sharply.
Mana Saturation: 42%. Caution Advised.
Elijah bit his lip. "This has to be close to enough."
He glanced around the chamber. The floor dipped slightly toward a depression ahead — a basin where several fractures in the stone had exposed an inner crystal seam. The seam glowed faintly, bleeding concentrated mana into the chamber like a slow leak.
That's it.
He moved carefully toward the basin and knelt beside one of the fractures. His stabilizer whirred softly, the containment field flexing as it absorbed stray surges and kept his body shielded from the worst of the ambient pressure.
For several minutes, Elijah simply sat there, letting his breathing slow, adjusting the regulator to acclimate his body gradually.
He knew the theory. Mr. Isaac's words were burned into his brain:
"Sometimes, it isn't that the body can't awaken — it's that there simply wasn't enough mana absorbed during growth. Occasionally, an external push can trigger the final adaptation."
But most who tried, died.
He glanced down at the stabilizer, then at his hands. They were trembling.
He clenched them into fists, forcing himself to stay calm.
Time passed.
Slowly, deliberately, Elijah opened one of his pouches and pulled out a small sample sensor he'd cobbled together from spare parts. He placed it against the crystal seam and let it take a reading.
Localized Mana Density: 62%. Highly Unstable.
Elijah exhaled shakily.
"Close enough," he whispered.
But he knew better than to rush it. First, he needed to spend some time here, letting his body continue to acclimate before making the attempt.
No stupid mistakes. No shortcuts.
He leaned back against the cavern wall, closed his eyes, and tried to steady his heart.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, he would return to this very spot. And if everything went according to plan…
He would awaken.
Elijah returned to the Hollow Verge at dawn.
The pale light of morning barely reached the entrance of the abandoned mine, but the familiar hum of concentrated mana greeted him like an old friend. As before, he adjusted the stabilizer his father had given him, listening to the gentle whir as the containment field settled around him.
Mana Field Detected: 31% Saturation. Stable.
He exhaled and pressed forward.
The walk into the depths felt shorter this time — though his stomach still twisted slightly with every step. The air here was thicker, almost syrupy. His breath came with slight resistance, but it was manageable. The stabilizer was doing its job.
Soon, he reached the basin where the fractured crystal seam pulsed like a living thing.
His hands trembled slightly as he knelt by the seam, resting both palms against the warm stone. The mana practically vibrated under his fingertips — like placing his hands against the chest of some slumbering beast.
This is it.
He glanced one last time at the stabilizer:
Localized Mana Density: 61%. Highly Unstable. Stabilizer Holding.
Elijah closed his eyes.
Slowly, carefully, he allowed himself to breathe in time with the natural rhythm of the chamber. His thoughts cycled through every lecture, every theory, every warning Mr. Isaac had ever drilled into him.
The body mutates during puberty, reshaped by mana absorption. The closer the saturation, the greater the chance of genetic restructuring. If the structure can't hold…
Failure means death.
He swallowed hard.
No second chances.
But he had no choice. The alternative was failure anyway — a slow, powerless slide into mediocrity and irrelevance.
He would not accept that.
Not today.
Minutes stretched into an hour as he sat in focused meditation. The stabilizer hissed occasionally, venting small bursts of regulated mana as his body continued to adjust. Tiny beads of sweat gathered on his brow.
He whispered to himself, his voice barely audible.
"Please… just let this work."
Then — it happened.
A pulse.
Not from the stabilizer — from inside him.
It started like a ripple in his stomach, spreading outward in waves. His skin prickled; his bones vibrated softly. His head grew light as his heartbeat accelerated, pounding louder in his ears than even the ambient hum of the chamber.
The mana wasn't just touching him anymore.
It was entering him.
The stabilizer beeped sharply:
Mutation Response Detected. Core Formation Imminent.
His entire body stiffened. Muscles spasmed. His teeth clenched tight against the sudden jolt of energy surging through his nervous system.
Something inside him was shifting — like puzzle pieces sliding into place for the first time.
The pressure built quickly. Faster than he expected. Far faster than was safe.
The stabilizer beeped again, its tone urgent:
WARNING: Mana Saturation Exceeding Safe Limits.
The chamber around him seemed to pulse in response to his awakening. The luminous fog swirled more violently. Cracks in the crystal seam spat faint arcs of energy.
Elijah's eyes snapped open.
His vision blurred, edges flickering with faint white sparks. His heart raced as small arcs of static danced along his forearms, flickering like mischievous lightning bugs.
But he barely saw it.
The pain hit next.
Not sharp, but deep — like being pulled apart and rebuilt simultaneously. His veins burned as raw mana surged into his forming core. His breathing grew erratic. His vision dimmed.
WARNING: Mana Overload Imminent.
The stabilizer's containment field struggled, flaring brightly as it automatically diverted excess energy. His father's craftsmanship was the only thing keeping him from bursting like an overfilled vessel.
Tears streamed down Elijah's face. His teeth clenched so hard they threatened to crack.
"I… I won't… stop…"
Another surge ripped through him.
His fingers suddenly clenched tight against the rock wall. And stuck.
The stone refused to release his grip. His hands adhered unnaturally to the surface, almost magnetized — yet without any visible glue or force.
What the—
Even as his mind screamed questions, his strength finally gave out. His head slumped forward, consciousness slipping through his fingers.
The world dimmed into darkness.
But the world did not stay dark.
As Elijah's body slumped unconscious, small arcs of pure electrical energy began to crawl along his skin like living threads. Tiny tendrils of blue-white lightning snaked from his fingertips into the fractured crystals beneath him.
The static snapped and danced, illuminating the small cavern with an otherworldly glow.
Inside his chest, just behind the sternum, something pulsed rhythmically — the faint outline of a barely-formed Mana Core glowing faintly, threads of power beginning to braid themselves into existence.
But most curious of all was the fluctuation around his fingertips: where his body had instinctively "anchored" itself to the stone during overload, tiny molecular bonds were being manipulated.
The static wasn't merely random.
It was bonding.
Particles aligning at the molecular level — surfaces adhering where no adhesive existed. A subtle, primitive expression of control over forces that few even understood.
This was not a fully-formed awakening.
Not yet.
But the core had begun.
Time passed.
Eventually, Elijah stirred.
His head pounded, his limbs tingled, and his whole body felt like he'd been trampled by an angry Goliath. He groaned, peeling himself off the now-cold stone, fingers coming free from the surface with an audible pop.
"Wha…?"
He blinked, sitting up slowly.
Gone were the violent surges. The chamber had quieted again, humming softly like before. The stabilizer on his belt sputtered once and then powered down — spent but intact.
He stared at his hands. He flexed his fingers slowly.
Nothing sparked.
No arcs.
No glow.
But the faint memory of his hands sticking to the rock remained fresh.
Tentatively, he reached toward the wall again and pressed his palm flat against the smooth stone.
Stick.
It clung for a moment — unnaturally so. And when he pulled, there was that faint popping resistance again, like separating two surfaces bonded by an invisible force.
His heart jumped.
It wasn't powerful.
It wasn't flashy.
But it was something.
A grin crept onto his exhausted face.
"I did it…" he whispered, voice raw and hoarse.
"I finally awakened."