The rain poured relentlessly over the city, washing the streets in a cold, endless sheet of water. Neon lights flickered weakly through the mist, their reflections dancing across puddles as cars crawled by, headlights cutting through the downpour. The usual hum of nightlife buzzed faintly, but even that seemed subdued, drowned by the steady rhythm of rain on pavement.
Kian Ansel walked with his head low, shoulders hunched beneath a soaked jacket. Every step in his worn sneakers came with a wet squelch, but he barely noticed. His eyes were fixed on the cracked pavement, like answers might be hidden there, like he could ignore the world if he didn't lift his gaze.
"Just another day," he muttered.
But it wasn't the rain or cold that weighed on him. Kian wasn't exhausted from school, or stress, or even sleep deprivation. He was tired of being ordinary.
In a world that had long since moved past ordinary.
It all changed a decade ago, when the first dungeon appeared — a tear in reality that spewed monsters, magic, and madness into the world. Governments fell. Cities burned. And then came the Ascendants—those who entered dungeons and returned transformed, with powers that defied nature.
Kian wasn't one of them.
He had tried. God, how he had tried.
He still remembered the Awakening Chamber. The needles. The antiseptic chill. Mana-rich incense curling in the air like ghostly vines. Around him, others had screamed — light erupting from their skin as power bloomed in their veins.
Kian? Nothing.
Not even a flicker.
The examiner had barely glanced at him. Just wrote Null on the form and moved on.
That word followed him like a curse.
As he neared the university gates, laughter echoed through the courtyard. Students lounged in clusters, excitedly comparing dungeon loot and new skills. Sparks danced across one boy's fingers as he conjured lightning. A girl beside him floated several inches off the ground, barely noticing.
Kian kept walking, invisible in plain sight.
"Hey, Kian!"
He paused and turned. Adelaide Rothschild was jogging up to him, umbrella forgotten, rain streaking her golden hair. Her presence was impossible to ignore — tall, graceful, confident. An S-Class Ascendant who could freeze a river with a blink.
"You're soaked," she said with a teasing smile. "Didn't I tell you to call me when it rains like this?"
"I'm fine," Kian said, brushing wet hair from his forehead. "Just taking the scenic route."
Adelaide didn't buy it. She never did. Her eyes softened. "Still thinking about the Awakening?"
"No," he lied. "Maybe. I don't know."
"You don't have to prove anything," she said, serious now. "You'll figure it out, Kian. You always do."
He wanted to believe her. But there was nothing left to figure out.
He had tried every test, volunteered for every low-level dungeon, risked his life for a flicker of change, and always walked away unchanged.
And maybe that was the worst part.
Before he could answer, the loudspeaker above them crackled to life.
"Attention, students. A new dungeon has been detected — the Dungeon of Souls. This is an S-Rank event. All designated raid teams, report to assembly immediately."
The courtyard went still. Then a rush of motion — students grabbing weapons, pulling on gear, bolting for the north wing.
"S-Rank?" Kian said, startled.
Adelaide's expression sharpened. "Yeah. I'm on the squad."
He hesitated. "You think I should... go too?"
She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Yes. Come with us."
Kian blinked. "But I'm not—"
"I know. But we'll watch each other's backs."
Before he could argue, the sky split open.
A swirling vortex bloomed above the university, casting everything in pale blue light. The ground trembled beneath Kian's feet. A deep, resonant hum — like a thousand voices whispering at once — filled the air.
The Dungeon of Souls had arrived.
And something in that light… pulled at him.
"Kian, stay back!" Adelaide! she shouted, reaching for him.
But he couldn't move. The light reached for him, calling, dragging, and devouring.
And then the world vanished.