The grand hall hummed with tension. Rows of children sat stiffly, their hands clenched in their laps, eyes darting toward the massive crystal on the podium. Outside, the crowd's roars shook the air, a mix of celebration and anticipation. Today was the day—every fifteen-year-old in the clan would step forward, touch the Awakening Stone, and discover their bloodline and future.
The Great Elder raised his hand, silencing the whispers. His voice was steady, carrying across the chamber.
"Children, remember this well. Once you place your hand upon the Awakening Stone, your consciousness will enter a memory tied to your bloodline. This vision may last minutes in your mind, but in reality, it will only be thirty seconds to one minute. The stronger your bloodline, the brighter the crystal will shine. The stronger the emotion stirred within you, the greater the gift you will awaken. Do not resist. Let the flow of your heritage guide you."
He paused, sweeping his eyes over the nervous faces. "Know this: fainting is not failure. It is merely the body's way of adjusting to the flood of memory. Strength, however, lies not only in bloodline but in will. Work hard, and even the dimmest spark can blaze."
The first name was called.
A small boy stepped forward, trembling as his peers cheered nervously behind him. His family shouted encouragement from the stands, while some children teased with laughter. The boy swallowed hard and placed his hand on the crystal.
For five seconds, nothing. Then his body stiffened, his eyes glazing as his mind was pulled deep into memory.
The crystal pulsed faintly—first dim, then brighter, climbing slowly. Gasps echoed when it reached the second stage… then the third. The glow wavered, then stopped.
The boy collapsed, caught swiftly by the Elder. He lay unconscious, his chest rising shallowly. Murmurs filled the hall.
"A third-stage glow… not weak," someone whispered.
"With effort, he could achieve something decent," another murmured.
His family's faces lit up with pride. Not extraordinary, but not shameful. A future could still be carved.
The patriarch nodded faintly, satisfaction flickering in his sharp eyes.
One after another, names were called. Children placed their hands, visions overtook them, lights flared, and outcomes varied. Some fainted instantly with only the faintest glow. Others lingered, earning middling results. Every flicker of the crystal was a spark of hope—or despair.
Then came the girl Raven, the same one who had once humiliated Caelum in training. She walked with confidence, her chin raised. The hall seemed to hold its breath as she pressed her palm against the crystal.
Instantly, the stone erupted in light. Brilliance flooded the chamber, forcing many to squint. The glow climbed, higher and higher, until it reached nearly the fifth stage. Raven's body shook violently, her expression twisted as though overwhelmed by emotion. Then she fainted outright, collapsing with a gasp.
The Elder caught her as the audience burst into cheers.
"A prodigy!"
"Four and a half! Our clan is blessed!"
The patriarch's smile deepened, his hands clasped behind his back. Raven's family wept with pride, already envisioning her future at the Academy.
Caelum's stomach twisted as he watched. His heart thudded faster. Would he… even awaken at all?
The next name called was Elias.
Caelum's friend walked forward with his usual swagger, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Yet Caelum noticed the slight tremor in his hand, the way he swallowed quickly before placing it on the crystal.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then—boom. The crystal shone fiercely, climbing past the third stage, past the fourth. Gasps echoed as it kept climbing. Elias's body stiffened, his breathing harsh, until finally it reached the sixth stage before his knees buckled.
The Elder steadied him. The hall erupted into thunderous applause.
"Six stages! Incredible!"
"A genius has been born!"
The patriarch's gaze locked on Elias, nodding in deep approval. Elias staggered back, sweat pouring down his face, but a triumphant grin lingered.
Caelum exhaled slowly, relief mingled with envy.
Next came Seren.
Unlike Elias's nervous arrogance, Seren's face was calm, almost serene as he stepped forward. He placed his hand on the stone, eyes shutting. The crystal responded instantly, glowing smoothly and steadily. Up and up it climbed, until it too reached the sixth stage, brilliant and unwavering.
The crowd roared. Two geniuses in a row.
"Two great stars born in one generation!"
"Our clan's glory will shine!"
Even the Great Elder seemed impressed, his lips twitching into a smile. Seren opened his eyes slowly, his body trembling as he withdrew hid hand. He bowed, then stepped aside beside Elias.
Now… only one remained.
The hall grew eerily quiet when Caelum's name was finally called.
The crystal before him shimmered faintly, its surface glowing with the memories of countless awakenings. Caelum's hand trembled slightly as he reached out. His chest tightened—not with excitement like the other children, but with dread. He had seen his friends succeed, the pride in the clan's eyes, the smiles of the patriarch. Yet none of it felt like it belonged to him.
His fingers brushed against the crystal, and in the next instant, his entire world collapsed.
He was dragged into a vast ocean of memory.
A crimson sky. A dark world veined with rivers of blood, pulsing as though alive. He saw towering figures, his race, his true people. They were born not in peace, but in violence—children tearing their way from their mother's wombs, greeted with cheers rather than horror. Around them, warriors feasted on the blood of defeated foes, veins siphoned dry as life and bloodlines were stolen.
It should have disgusted him. But as Caelum watched, a strange recognition swelled in his chest.
This… this is me.
The truth unfolded—his clan was one of the strongest in the universe, feared for their ability to consume the very essence of other races. Their harmony lay not in love or trust, but in chaos accepted as nature. A mother slain before her child's eyes was not tragedy, but triumph. Murder was honor, survival was worship.
And yet… they were invincible.
Their enemies came in uncountable numbers, beings of light and flame, winged titans and godlike creatures. Still his clan roared, charging into the endless tide without fear. The thrill of slaughter, the joy of death, the ecstasy of devouring power—it was intoxicating.
Then came the destruction. He watched the last days of his people. Worlds fell. Bodies piled like mountains. His clan was crushed, their blood-drinking harmony shattered by sheer numbers. Yet even in annihilation, they laughed. Even in their deaths, they felt joy.
Caelum's heart thudded painfully. The weight of it all pressed down on him until he felt he might burst apart.
And then—
"The last heir is awakened. I greet you."
A voice slithered into his mind, deep and resonant.
"W-Who… who are you?" Caelum asked, his voice trembling inside the vision.
"I am the remnant of your people, a shard of will. You, child, are the last of us. The world thinks us extinct. But you will carry us forward. You will devour. You will rise."
The words filled him with equal parts terror and power. But before he could respond, something cold invaded his body—a foreign force, binding, suffocating, alien.
He gasped. The memory shattered. The world spun.
And when his vision cleared, the crystal was beneath his palm, glowing violently, and everyone in the stadium was smiling at him.
But not kindly.
Their smiles were eerie, stretched too wide, too synchronized. His stomach lurched.
Elias stepped forward, his expression smug. "Sorry, buddy. You're not one of us. You should've known."
Caelum's throat went dry. "E-Elias… what are you saying?"
Seren joined, his voice honeyed yet cruel. "Don't look so betrayed. We were your friends, weren't we? Played the part well enough. But you're dangerous, Caelum. Different. The patriarch can't let you run wild."
Elias laughed, leaning closer. "But we're generous. We won't kill you. Not yet. You'll be useful—just a dog on a leash. Once we put the contract on you, you'll do everything we say. Be thankful we're sparing your pathetic life."
The crowd chuckled with them, their eerie grins never faltering. The weight of betrayal crushed his chest. His body trembled—not just with anger, but with grief. His mother's smile, the patriarch's watchful gaze, Elias's laughter over the years, Seren's gentle words—lies. All lies. ALL WERE LIES!!
His vision blurred with tears, his hands clenched until his nails cut into his palms. Rage, despair, humiliation—everything boiled together. He has never experienced this much anger. He just wants to kill everybody here, in the most ruthless way possible.
Then the voice returned.
"Last heir. Listen well. You cannot defeat them. Even those two children beside you are stronger than you. To fight now is to die. You must live."
Caelum's eyes burned. "Live? To crawl as their dog? To carry this shame?"
"No. To return. To rise. To devour them all. I can open a path. A forbidden region lies near, one they will not follow. But the cost is heavy—you have no power yet. This will consume your strength, your body. You will suffer."
Caelum's heart twisted. His gaze swept the faces around him—the patriarch, serene and calculating; Brinet, feigning fragility; Elias and Seren, smirking like snakes. His throat tightened until the only words he could force out were venomous.
"Patriarch… Brinet… traitors… monsters."
With that, the world shattered. A burst of crimson light engulfed him, tearing him from the hall.
He vanished.
For a moment, the clan stood frozen in disbelief. Then the patriarch shot to his feet, his face ashen with dread.
"FIND HIM!" His roar shook the arena. "Search every path, every forest, every shadow! He cannot escape! If he survives, if he returns stronger—" His words cut short, but the fear in his eyes told all.
A suffocating silence spread through the clan. The memory of the crystal's light still burned in their vision. Somewhere, deep within, they all felt it.
The last heir of a slaughtered race had awakened.
And if he lived… none of them would escape the storm to come.