Printed in bold letters at the top of Elijah's schedule were the words:
Initiate and Apprentice Combined Basic Track Schedule
Since the strength gap between Initiates and Apprentices wasn't especially large, the academy grouped them together for foundational training. Most students didn't make it past the Apprentice tier by graduation anyway, so this track would likely be Elijah's home for the next two years—with some electives rotating in and out as needed.
Elijah scanned the list of classes, heart thudding with anticipation. The schedule reflected the shift in his status. His old, all-general-education setup was gone. Now, his mornings were still grounded in the academic core, but his afternoons belonged to the world of awakened ability users.
1st Period – World History and Modern Politics
Instructor: Mr. Glosac
2nd Period – Mana Science: Properties & Flow Theory
Instructor: Mr. Isaac
3rd Period – Advanced Mathematics: Mana Matrices
Instructor: Ms. Planteen
4th Period – Mana Control and Advancement
Instructor: Mrs. Drowla
5th Period – Mixed Combat Applications: Power Integration
Instructor: Sergeant Arti Choke
6th Period – Enhancement Techniques
Instructor: Mr. Clancy
"Stacked lineup," Elijah muttered under his breath as he reviewed the list for the fifth time. His eyes darted back and forth across the page, excitement rising in his chest. He was so engrossed that he didn't notice the classroom steadily filling in around him—or Tim dropping into the seat beside him.
"Hey man!" Tim said, slapping Elijah's shoulder with a grin. "What's got you so—whoa, wait. Is that a new schedule?"
Elijah blinked and looked up, finally noticing him.
Tim leaned closer and read over his shoulder. Realization struck him like a thunderbolt. "No way. No. Freaking. Way. You awakened?!"
Elijah laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… I, uh, forced it. Found a high-mana zone and pushed through."
Tim's smile faltered. "You did the method Mr. Isaac warned us not to do?"
"I didn't want to worry you," Elijah said quickly. "That's why I didn't say anything."
Tim frowned. "Come on, man. You know I'm always in your corner. If there was anything I could've done to help, I would've. Worrying about you doesn't change that."
Elijah looked down, guilt washing over him. "Yeah… You're right. I'm sorry, Tim."
Tim let out a slow sigh, then nodded. "Alright. Just don't pull something like that again, okay? After everything we've been through, you don't have to do this alone."
Elijah's grin returned. "Peace?"
"Peace," Tim said, bumping his fist.
"And congrats, by the way! Looks like you're in the Enhancer track too—means we'll have more classes together! You have to tell me about your ability!"
Before Elijah could answer, a voice drawled from the back of the room.
"Well, well, the dead weight finally joined the rest of us."
Claro.
Elijah's spine stiffened instinctively. He knew that voice like a migraine—the perfect mix of arrogance and poison.
Claro leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and smirking like always. "Color me surprised, Eneri. I figured you'd keel over and save us all some oxygen before you actually awakened. Let me guess—something pathetic, right? Super toenails or sweat powers?"
Elijah's jaw clenched, but this time, before Tim could jump in to defend him, he raised a hand to stop him.
Enough.
He stood and turned toward Claro, voice steady. "Shut it, Claro. I'm not your verbal punching bag anymore. I awakened, same as you. And who knows—maybe I'll pass you up, even with your two-year head start."
He forced a smirk onto his face, just confident enough to look like he believed it.
Claro's eyes narrowed, his cocky demeanor cracking for a half-second. Elijah had struck a nerve.
"Oh, so you think you're clever now," Claro sneered. "Big man with your baby-tier awakening. Well guess what, Eneri? I'm on the Enhancer track too. That means you'll be seeing a lot more of me."
He leaned forward with a predatory grin. "In fact, how about during the Mixed Combat class today, we have ourselves a little friendly spar? Just to see how far you've really come."
Elijah hesitated. He was bluffing, and they both knew it. But something inside him refused to back down now—not after standing up.
"Fine," he said. "Let's do it."
"Perfect," Claro said with mock cheer. "Try not to cry this time, yeah?"
Elijah clenched his fists and sat back down. Tim leaned in, voice low.
"Okay, that was badass and all, but… dude. Unless you awakened something nuts, you're gonna get flattened."
"I know," Elijah admitted. "But I couldn't just let him keep walking all over me. Not now."
Tim sighed. "Okay, fair enough. But seriously—what did you get?"
Elijah scratched his head, looking sheepish. "It's called… Sticky Fingers."
Tim blinked. "Sticky what?"
"It lets me stick to things really well. Hands mostly. Sometimes I can stick two things together. That's about it."
Tim stared. "Bro. You. Are. Cooked."
Elijah groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Believe me—I know."
"You've got half a school day to figure something out," Tim whispered.
"Yeah. No pressure, right?" Elijah muttered, as Mr. Glosac began the morning's lecture.
Fourth period arrived faster than Elijah anticipated. He found himself standing at the entrance to a training hall unlike anything he'd seen before—wide open space, smooth padded floors, reinforced mana-threaded walls, and glowing crystal lights overhead pulsing with ambient energy. The sign above the door read:
Mana Control and Advancement
Instructor: Mrs. Drowla
Most of the students were already stretching, meditating, or quietly practicing basic control exercises, their hands weaving faint threads of mana in the air. Tim waved him over from a spot near the edge of the room.
"Mrs. Drowla hasn't shown up yet," Tim said. "People say she's intense, but fair."
Before Elijah could respond, a chilling gust swept through the hall. The door at the far end hissed open, and a tall woman stepped inside—a silver-haired figure in a tailored combat robe that shimmered faintly with embedded runes. Her presence immediately commanded the room's attention; conversation died and eyes snapped forward.
"Eyes front," she commanded, her voice crisp and clear, like steel drawn tight. The air seemed to still, as if waiting on her words.
"I am Mrs. Drowla," she announced. "Before we begin, I want to acknowledge a new face among you—Elijah Eneri. This is your first class with us." Her gaze briefly met his, sharp but not unkind. "You have joined us mid-course. Understand that the path you walk requires catching up on foundational knowledge we have already covered."
She stepped to the side, and the room's holo-display flickered to life—a layered diagram of internal mana channels, cultivation tiers, and the invisible currents of resonance that bind all awakened souls.
"For Elijah and anyone else in need of remedial study," Mrs. Drowla continued, "I have uploaded supplemental materials to your personal learning modules: Foundations of Mana Circulation and Control. Study these diligently outside class hours. Your advancement depends on it."
Murmurs rippled through the students, some nodding respectfully at the clear structure.
At Mrs. Drowla's side stood Katherine Gravelle, heir of the great Gravelle noble house and prodigy never before seen. Her arms folded, as she exuded a calm and steady presence. Though her youthful face betrayed her age—exactly that of Elijah's classmates—her posture and quiet authority marked her apart. The students instinctively gave her space, lowering their voices and offering subtle bows or nods whenever she glanced their way. Kat wasn't just a peer; she was a teaching aide, a mentor in training, and the deference she inspired was palpable.
Kat's eyes briefly locked on Elijah, a flicker of appraisal there before she turned her attention back to the instructor.
Mrs. Drowla's voice filled the hall once more. "We have covered three pillars so far—resonance, refinement, and release. Resonance is the attunement to your unique internal mana signature. Refinement involves mastering the flow and containment within your body. Release is the ability to wield that energy externally, with precision and purpose."
She stepped forward, pointing to the holo where chaotic mana currents twisted violently before settling into calm, rhythmic flows.
"Fail in any of these steps, and your progress will stall—or worse. Burnout, internal collapse, stagnation… these are consequences for the unprepared. Enhancers like Elijah must learn to strengthen their frames without destabilizing their mana channels. Emitters face different trials, but the principle remains."
A student raised a hand hesitantly. "What about cultivation tiers? How do we break through?"
Mrs. Drowla nodded curtly. "Cultivation is the natural outcome of these pillars. When your mana density reaches a critical threshold without shattering your body, you break through to the next realm—Initiate to Apprentice, Apprentice to Disciple, and onward. It is not brute strength alone but the precision of control that matters."
Elijah scribbled furiously in his notebook, but his mind raced faster than his pen. Resonance… refinement… release. His ability—Sticky Fingers—was often dismissed as trivial, maybe even a joke. But it was an ability that demanded exquisite control: managing adhesion at will, balancing stickiness and release with subtlety.
What if his power wasn't about force, but finesse? What if he could manipulate Claro's momentum, disrupt his footing, hold him just long enough to strike?
The bell rang sharply, echoing off the mana-threaded walls.
"Reflect. Improve. Dismissed," Mrs. Drowla commanded, her tone brooking no argument.
The students filed out, some casting curious glances at Elijah—part sympathy, part skepticism.
Fifth period brought them to a more rugged space: Mixed Combat Applications—Power Integration. The training hall was larger, littered with sparring rings, obstacle courses, and walls scarred from repeated battles. Sergeant Arti Choke stood like a living barricade, arms crossed, his gaze sharp and unyielding.
"I don't like cowards. I don't like excuses," he growled. "You're here to learn how to fight. You will be bruised. You will be thrown. You will fail. But if you learn from it, you'll survive longer than most."
Elijah's palms were slick with sweat beneath the tingling surge of mana. He glanced sideways—Kat was stationed just off the mats, observing with a clinical detachment. Her presence was a silent warning: no weakness tolerated here.
"Pair up," Arti barked. "Enhancer vs. Enhancer first."
Claro sauntered over before anyone else could move. His smirk was cocky, almost predatory.
"Ready for round two, Eneri?" he taunted.
Elijah's breath hitched. His hands tingled as he stepped forward.
"Begin," Arti commanded.
Claro attacked with lightning speed—wide, arcing punches aimed to overwhelm. Elijah ducked instinctively, feeling the air snap past him. He planted his hand on the mat, activating Sticky Fingers without thinking, his palm sticking fast as glue.
Claro's kick sliced just overhead, missing by inches.
Seizing the moment, Elijah twisted and caught Claro's ankle with his free hand.
"Gotcha," Elijah muttered under his breath.
Claro snarled, yanking free with brute strength—but Elijah pivoted swiftly, slamming both sticky palms against Claro's torso. The sudden adhesion disrupted his balance, and with a heave, Elijah flung him hard onto the mat.
A heavy thump echoed through the hall.
Claro grunted sharply, surprised.
The room fell silent for a heartbeat.
Then Claro exploded into motion, fury burning in his eyes. He landed a punishing elbow across Elijah's jaw, spinning him to the floor. Pain flared and Elijah groaned, the fight ending there.
"Match concluded!" Sergeant Arti barked. "Eneri earns points for creativity and tactical thinking. Claro's dominance shows experience. Both need polish—keep grinding."
Elijah staggered to his feet, jaw throbbing but pride intact.
From the observation deck, Kat's eyes narrowed slightly, lips pressed in thoughtful silence. She recalled the clumsy kid who'd nearly collided with her earlier in the hallway. Now, watching him fight, she saw more—determination, raw potential, and an unwillingness to give up.
"Sticky Fingers, huh?" she murmured quietly. "A fitting name for someone who doesn't know when to let go. Still, did he even notice that the other guy didn't even have to use his ability?"
With that, Kat turned and disappeared before the next match began, leaving the room buzzing with renewed energy and quiet respect for the weakling who had dared to fight back.