The morning air was cool, brisk, and too full of gravity.
Literally.
Elijah grunted as he pushed himself up from the training mat for the twelfth time, each movement weighed down by the shimmering pressure field Kat had wrapped around him like a second sky. It felt like doing push-ups in molasses while someone stood on his back.
"I think my ribs just made a group decision to retire," he wheezed.
Kat stood off to the side, arms crossed, expression unreadable. "You asked for increased resistance."
"I asked for help getting stronger, not getting body-slammed by physics."
"Then adapt faster," she replied, voice as flat as ever. "Control under strain is foundational. You don't grow by being comfortable."
Elijah groaned but kept going. This had become their daily ritual—training before sunrise while the rest of the academy was still half asleep. Kat never let up. She didn't yell, didn't gloat, didn't explain. Just pushed him harder and harder, and corrected him only when his form would start costing him progress.
She was intense. Ruthless.
But not unkind.
He'd started to notice the subtle ways she adjusted things—dialing down the pressure when his breathing hit panic levels, letting silence fill the space instead of lectures, sometimes even letting him win the occasional point in a reflex drill without saying so. Maybe she didn't see it as friendship. But to Elijah, it was the closest thing he'd ever had to mentorship.
After another grueling set, Kat lowered the field.
"Break," she said simply.
Elijah collapsed back onto the mat, panting. "You ever train anyone before me?"
"No."
"I can tell."
Kat gave a faint exhale through her nose. Elijah had learned that was her version of laughing.
"You're not completely hopeless," she added after a moment.
He turned his head. "Wow. High praise from Lady Gravelle herself."
"Don't let it go to your head," she replied, already turning away. "Classes start soon. Don't be late."
⸻
Later that morning, Elijah and Tim sat outside the cafeteria, splitting a half-burnt protein muffin and trying not to think too hard about their sore muscles. The courtyard buzzed with energy—more tense than usual.
Tim leaned back on the bench and tossed a crumpled wrapper into the trash with a lazy arc. "You feel that?"
"The building sense of impending doom?" Elijah said, dryly.
Tim chuckled. "You joke, but yeah. It's different now. Everyone's locking in, even the slackers."
Elijah nodded. "The Awakening Exams. Four months out."
Tim's tone shifted—still casual, but more grounded. "Hard to believe it's your first one. I feel like we've been at this forever."
"You've done this twice already," Elijah said. "But back then, I was just the guy in the bleachers watching you nearly explode."
Tim winced. "Okay, fair. The first time I awakened my power, I almost caved in that entire tower on top of myself. Would've crushed myself if you hadn't pulled me out."
"Yeah, well… figured I'd at least die a hero."
Tim gave him a crooked grin. "Instead, you lived long enough to suffer through pre-dawn gravity drills."
They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a beat.
Elijah thought back to that moment two years ago somewhere in the empire's lower district near the sky rail station.
Elijah and Tim had snuck out to watch a mana-charged skycar derby — a half-illegal race held by rogue engineers and bored nobles. They were just a pair of dumb kids back then, barely twelve, slipping through alley gaps and climbing fire escapes for the best view.
Tim had been jittery all day, complaining about chest pressure and weird tingles in his hands. Elijah thought he was just anxious — maybe about getting caught by the guards.
But then, just as the racers hit their final loop, Tim's body had started to shake, his arms glowing faintly with a violet pulse. The vibrations came in waves — stronger and stronger — until a support beam near them cracked, and part of the tower started to give way.
People screamed. Metal groaned. Sparks rained down.
Elijah didn't think. He just moved — grabbing Tim and pulling him down a scaffold while the platform behind them collapsed in a thunderclap of broken mana coils. Tim had no control. He was convulsing like he'd swallowed thunder.
Elijah held onto him, kept him grounded, whispering, "You're alright. I got you. You're not gonna break."
Eventually, the tremors died down. Tim passed out, and Elijah sat beside him all night until a patrol found them.
Coming back out of the memory Elijah focused on his conversation with Tim again.
Then Elijah asked, "You've done these exams. What are we actually fighting for?"
Tim looked up at the rune-lit banners hanging across the main quad. "Placement. Opportunity. The top 25 get a straight path to elite military or guild fast-tracks. Custom training, personal instructors, resource priority. Bottom 100? You get what's left. Overcrowded classes, no special attention, maybe a shot at a support track if you're lucky."
"And the rest of us?"
Tim shrugged. "Stuck in the middle, hoping someone notices."
Elijah leaned forward. "And what happens if you're dead last?"
Tim paused. "That's… not great. You'll be flagged for remediation, maybe even get held back or shuffled into a general ed stream. Especially if they think your ability's not viable."
Elijah stared out at the campus. "I'm ranked 301, Tim. Out of 301."
Tim scratched his head. "Hey, don't beat yourself up. You awakened late. And you've been working harder than anyone."
"Yeah, but most improved's the only medal I've got a shot at," Elijah muttered. "If I can jump more ranks than anyone else, maybe someone finally sees me as more than just a charity case."
Tim clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll make noise, don't worry. Just keep climbing. And I've got my own goal, too—this year, I'm cracking top 100."
Elijah arched a brow. "So you can rub it in Claro's face?"
"Especially so I can rub it in Claro's face."
They both laughed, but the tension didn't fully leave Elijah's shoulders. The Awakening Exams weren't just another test. They were THE test.
And if he didn't prove something now…
He might never get the chance again.
Around campus, the shift was palpable. Study halls buzzed with whispered theories about what this year's Awakening Exams might include. Seniors passed down half-baked legends—about giant mana beasts, surprise duels, and psychotic instructors posing as students. Some rumors claimed the bottom 50 students were automatically expelled. Others said the top 10 got taken straight to elite military academies, no questions asked.
It was mostly hot air.
But in a school that measured your worth in numbers, no one could afford to take chances.
Elsewhere, Kat Gravelle sat in a private study room, back straight, hands folded in her lap. A slim, silver-haired woman stood beside her, reading from a floating tablet.
"Any anomalies with your mentee?" the woman asked.
Kat shook her head. "He's behind, but capable of progress."
"Any unexpected behavior?"
"Beyond recklessly overexerting himself to earn praise? No."
The woman tapped something on her screen. "Good. Keep observing. The department is monitoring how leadership-track students perform under unstructured mentorship conditions."
Kat's eyes narrowed slightly. "Is that the only reason I was assigned a mentee?"
The woman looked up. "Of course. Why do you ask?"
Kat hesitated. Then shook her head. "No reason."
The next morning, Elijah found himself standing outside the gravity training chamber, trying not to vomit from nerves.
Inside, Kat was already waiting, arms crossed, eyes narrowed with clinical detachment. A glowing sigil hovered behind her—part of the security array that registered the mana fields during training.
"I've revised your daily training blocks," she said flatly, handing him a rune-stamped scroll. "You'll follow this. No deviations. I'll be observing and correcting you for the first hour every morning. After that, it's your problem."
Elijah unrolled the schedule.
Morning Block (6:00 AM - 8:00 AM):
• Gravitational Resistance Drills (Kat-controlled field)
• Sticky Adhesion Flow Practice (wall traverse while maintaining stable mana stream)
• Core Breathing & Refinement Meditation
Midday Block (After Classes, 3:30 PM - 5:00 PM):
• Endurance Enhancer Regimen (Clancy-supervised)
• Strength-Mana Infusion Sets (weighted carry while outputting stable current)
• Flex Control Drills (finger-tip surface control and detachment delay training)
Evening Block (8:00 PM - 9:00 PM):
• Theory Review (combat application of low-tier abilities)
• Resonance Tracking Journal (1 page minimum)
• Self-Directed Experimental Sets (limited-use innovation slot—pending Kat's review)
"Three-a-days?" Elijah muttered. "I'm gonna die."
"You'll survive," Kat said. "Probably."
"…That's not a great answer."
She didn't smile. But her next words weren't cruel. "If you don't push yourself harder than everyone else, you'll stay last. Your power isn't flashy. You don't have raw stats. You have to become the kind of person who trains harder than the prodigies."
Elijah rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright. Guess we'll go full underdog then."
Kat turned toward the console. "The exams are in four months. If you want that 'Most Improved' medal, you'd better start working on your ranking today."
Elijah exhaled, centered himself, and stepped into the gravity field. His limbs were immediately pulled downward with invisible weight—not crushing, but enough to remind him what failure felt like.
That night, Elijah lay sprawled across his bed, muscles aching and every joint feeling like it had been individually cursed. The room was dim, lit only by the pale glow of his desk lamp across the room. Outside, the wind hummed against the city windows. Inside, silence.
Earlier that day, between drills, Elijah had passed by the sealed east wing of the campus—a section supposedly under renovation, though he'd never once seen construction workers enter or exit. As he walked past, he heard something strange: a low hum, like a thousand voices whispering just beyond the wall. Then, a flicker of pressure—like static crawling under his skin.
He paused. Turned to look.
Nothing.
He chalked it up to mana fatigue and kept walking. But the sensation had lingered, coiled in his thoughts like a parasite.
In his room he placed a hand over his chest and exhaled slowly.
"Status," he muttered.
A soft pulse echoed from his sternum as the mana-threaded implant responded. A shimmering projection blinked to life in the air above him—faintly translucent blue, shaped like a window of light only he could see.
[GovStat – User Profile: Elijah Eneri]
Age: 14
Tier: Middle Initiate
Class Pathway: Enhancer (Adhesive Subtype)
Registered Ability: Sticky Fingers [Epsilon Tier]
Mana Core Stability: 22%
Mana Capacity: 41 Units
Vitality: 5
Strength: 4
Endurance: 6
Dexterity: 10
Control: 14
Stat Total: 39/100
Skill Nodes:
– Basic Adhesion Flow [Unstable]
– Anchored Pivot Maneuver [Inconsistent Execution]
Current Ranking (Age 14 Cohort): #301
(Next update: 6 days)
Performance Tags:
– Underperforming Core Stability
– No Elemental Affinity Detected
– Mentor Assigned [Kat Gravelle]
The interface had more information compared to when he first awoken, as it had finalized more data.
Elijah stared at the numbers. Comparing it to his freshly awakened stats his strength stat had only gone up by three points. Endurance by five. Control was new but had barely nudged from when he last checked his stats. Still it was easily his highest stat. But the most frustrating part was the Skill Nodes. Sure he had two now but both were tagged as Unstable or Inconsistent. All that work, and he hadn't even earned a third skill.
And yet…
He could feel something shifting. Not in the numbers—but in the rhythm of his body. The way he could cling to a wall without slipping. The way he could hold a mana stream for ten seconds longer than the week before.
Numbers didn't tell the whole story.
Still dead last.
But this time, he didn't feel the familiar knot of despair. Instead, a different feeling sparked in his chest—tiny and stubborn. A flicker of something just beginning to kindle.
"Four months," he whispered. "Let's see how far I can crawl."
He dismissed the projection with a thought. The glow faded, but the spark inside his chest stayed lit.
Not mana.
But maybe a spark of will that over the past week or two had finally been ignited.