As the radiant light finally dimmed, the room exhaled.
Gasps echoed across the chamber as the students took in Adam's transformation.
His once-dark hair now shimmered gold, his eyes glowing like twin suns.
His features had sharpened—almost sculpted, like the magic had touched more than just his soul.
Kael blinked.
So… it changes your body too.
Great.
Not only is he OP, now he looks like the cover of a celestial shampoo ad.
The Prophetess leaned forward, eyes alight with anticipation.
"What is your name, child?" she asked, voice reverent. "And the name of your True Rune?"
Adam bowed slightly, respectful as ever.
"Adam Hartswell," he said. "My True Rune is [Bearer of Solarius]. It's connected to Light."
Kael frowned.
Connected?
So they're not just elements.
There's something more symbolic about them...
He filed that away.
He'd need to awaken himself to understand this properly.
The Prophetess, practically glowing herself now, gestured with satisfaction.
Adam stepped aside, standing tall, unknowingly basking in a new spotlight.
"Next," the Prophetess said, voice sharper now—expectant.
And like dominoes, the others began stepping forward.
One by one.
It started to feel less like a ritual and more like a cosmic job interview.
Everyone knew the truth now—spoken or not:
The higher your Rune rank, the higher your value.
The higher your value, the better your odds of surviving.
But fate wasn't generous to all.
Some students lit the altar with humble flashes—Rank Six, Rank Seven.
No thunder.
No transformation.
Just... average.
The Prophetess would offer only a polite nod.
No praise. No comment. Just dismissal.
And then…
It was her turn.
Lilith.
The cold beauty of the class. Smart. Distant. Untouchable.
She walked forward with grace that demanded silence.
The moment her fingers brushed the crystal, a pulse of blinding crimson light erupted through the room.
When it faded, the Prophetess clapped her hands together in delight.
"Rank Two! A noble soul!"
Murmurs rippled like a wave.
"I knew it—she's amazing."
"A Rank Two?"
"Of course she's second only to Adam..."
Lilith stood still, unmoved, but Kael caught the tiniest flicker in her crimson eyes.
Disappointment.
She had wanted more.
Her hair now burned a deep scarlet, her gaze like freshly spilled blood.
Her Rune is Blood Sovereign.
And just like that, the hierarchy solidified.
Those with Rank Ones and Twos were admired, envied, cheered.
Those who awakened Rank Nines?
Laughed at.
Whispered about.
Mocked like failures.
Kael sighed.
Of course.
Even in a death cult, humanity finds a way to be shallow.
The competition had begun.
All thoughts of danger and unity were swallowed by comparison and ego.
It no longer mattered that they were strangers in a nightmare.
Now it was about status.
Power.
Worth.
Kael swirled the last of his smoothie.
One final sip.
Gone.
Perfect timing, he thought dryly.
Of course the smoothie runs out just when I'm next in line for judgment.
Almost everyone had awakened now.
And none had touched Rank One since Adam.
Not even close.
Only two managed Rank Two—Lilith, the class goddess, and, regrettably, the class bully, who now had just enough power to make everyone's life hell in two worlds.
Five landed in Rank Three.
The rest were spread out in Ranks Four to Six—decent, survivable.
The Prophetess nodded politely each time, like someone grading a stack of unremarkable essays.
But strangely... no one had awakened a Rank Eight.
Or a Rank Nine.
Yet.
And for some reason Kael couldn't shake the feeling—like an itch behind the eyes—that one of those bottom-tier spots was waiting just for him.
Nope.
Stop.
Don't spiral.
Be positive.
Think average.
Manifest mediocrity.
Just not trash.
Please. Anything but trash.
He looked at himself.
Pale. Thin. Always a bit sick-looking.
His hair was a black mess that gave up trying to be neat sometime around fifth grade.
Dark circles clung under his eyes like bruises that never healed.
He looked like a kid who lost a fight with a mirror—and wasn't sure if he cared.
Kael had always been... background noise.
A loner by default, not design.
Middle child.
Slightly warped personality.
Mostly ignored.
Honestly? Half the class probably doesn't even remember I exist.
Maybe this is the day that changes.
Maybe, for once, he wouldn't fade into the wallpaper.
Only two remained now.
Kael.
And Mrs. Rose.
He exhaled.
His shoulders looked relaxed, but his thoughts were knotted tight.
The cup in his hand was empty.
No more smoothie. No more distraction. No more sugar-coated delay.
Figures. Right when I need it the most.
And with nothing left to hold, and nowhere left to hide,
Kael stepped forward.
Toward the altar.
Toward the stone.
Toward whatever waited for him beyond the light.