Zero Star Awakening: The Broken One Who Devoured the Gods
It rained the day they said he had no star.
Not the kind of soft rain that washes away sins or whispers of rebirth — no, this was bitter, cold, cruel. It stung the skin and settled deep into the bones like a curse. And still, not a single person offered him a cloak.
They were too busy laughing.
"I've never seen it hit zero before," someone sneered from the crowd of students huddled beneath the Academy's stone spire. "Is that even possible? Doesn't the Orb have to give something?"
A flicker of magical energy crackled above the boy's head, then died.
The Orb of Souls — a floating crystal said to carry the will of the gods — hovered still and silent before him. No light. No color. No star.
Not even a flicker of potential.
"Step down," the officiating Seer barked without sympathy. "You've been tested. Move."
The boy — thin, drenched, no older than fifteen — didn't move. Not out of defiance. He simply hadn't realized the test was over. He'd been waiting for the glow. Even a dull grey light. A single star.
Instead, the gods had given him silence.
A hand shoved him hard from behind. He stumbled off the marble dais and landed in the muddy grass, face-first. Laughter rang out again — not cruel this time. Worse.
Pitying.
His name was Kael. No surname. No title. No elemental bond. No aura.
In a realm where every child awakened to power at age fifteen — fire, frost, light, storm, shadow — Kael had awakened to nothing. His status was branded that day by the Academy:
ZERO STAR. NON-GIFTED. RESTRICTED TRACK.
He became the ghost boy. The forgotten desk. The reason others laughed harder at their own blessings. Teachers ignored him. Combat instructors refused to spar with him. Even the scrolls refused to record his name.
Except for one place.
A crumpled slip he kept hidden in his robe pocket — stained, damp, nearly torn through — carried his entire magical record:
"Subject displays no elemental activity.
No divine lineage detected.
Prognosis: unfit for ascension. Recommend dismissal."
That night, while others feasted and celebrated their star awakenings, Kael sat alone in the training courtyard, watching lightning crackle across the mountains.
He whispered to the wind.
"I'll find another way."
The gods had rejected him. But he wasn't asking again.
He'd take it all. Power, fate, vengeance — even the stars themselves.
And one day, they would kneel.
Not to a chosen one.
But to the broken one.