What the hell just happened? Why is the void synchronizing now? Rafael was utterly confused. His mind raced, trying to make sense of the sudden surge, the black flicker in the emblem that no one else had noticed.
"Next… Fredric." The announcer's voice echoed across the plaza. Rafael left the platform, looking at the ground.
Fredric stepped forward with precise movement, but his face didn't look as cheerful as before. Huh? Why is that guy so gloomy? Is he Rank-0 like me? For a moment, he forgot about the System's whisper.
Fredric pressed his palm against the emblem. The crystal veins lit up, running like rivers of light, and then—
Violet
The plaza stirred. Students whispered under their breath, glancing at each other, at Fredric, at the officials who shifted slightly in their seats.
A Violet. Here. Among the first-years.
Rafael blinked. Wait—Violet? He had only met Fredric this morning, just another stranger in the crowd. And now, in front of everyone, his rank burned brighter than almost anyone else's.
The whispers chased him down the platform. A Mystic. A Violet. A noble-born prodigy.
Rafael's stomach twisted. He forced a laugh under his breath. And here I was wondering if he might be Rank-0 like me. How stupid.
The announcer barely let the noise die down before speaking again."Next… Lyric."
A tall boy with silver-streaked hair strode forward, his confidence sharp enough to cut. He pressed his hand to the emblem without hesitation.
The crystal veins pulsed once, twice, then blazed into a Violet.
This time, the reaction was louder, rising into an uproar. Two of them? In the same batch? Even the teachers leaned forward now, eyes narrowing.
Rafael's breath caught. He felt the space between him and them grow wide like a canyon with no bridge. Two Violets. And him? A void that whispered things no one else could hear.
The thought tasted bitter. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
Why the hell is everyone shining while I'm the only broken one?
And then, without warning—
[VOID SYNCHRONIZATION: 15%]
The letters bled into his vision again, faint yet undeniable. He flinched. No one else reacted. No one else could see it.
His throat tightened. Why? Why now? WHAT is that shadow up to now? Hey?? What are you doing??
No answer came. The shadow remained silent. Rafael was afraid of the shadow inside him. But he kind of sensed that it wouldn't harm him, or to be specific, his body. On one hand, Rafael wanted to make sure that the shadow leaves his body. But, he is not strong enough, nor can he tell anyone. Telling anyone else means endangering his own life. On the other hand, it also gave him power, which he needed the most to survive in this world.
The system stopped there.
But Rafael didn't understand why it activated. He didn't call it.
Several other names echoed, several other ranks were seen, but no other students were of Rank-4.
Somehow, Rafael slipped away from the crowd unnoticed. He needed to get to the administration office for his dorm key and room assignment.
The gorgeous main building loomed ahead. He didn't linger to enjoy its beauty this time.
The doors to the main building slid open with a quiet hiss as Rafael stepped closer. Their edges glowed soft cyan. Inside, the air was cool. Light bounced off the polished walls, casting shifting patterns on the floor, as if the building were watching him.
The corridors stretched in precise angles, doors neatly labeled with glowing panels. Signs hovered in the air, directing students with simple icons and text.
Administration… Administration… he muttered to himself, eyes scanning every doorway.
Finally, at the end of a wide hall, a larger panel glowed brighter than the rest: "Administration". Rafael quickened his pace, relief washing over him. He had found it.
The doors slid open silently as he approached. Inside, the office was clean and efficient. A few clerks moved behind sleek counters, holographic forms floating in midair as they worked.
Rafael stepped forward cautiously, keeping his head low. He didn't want to draw any more attention.
A clerk looked up, her eyes scanning him for a moment before returning to the holographic forms floating in front of her.
"First-year?" she asked, voice polite but quick.
"Yes," Rafael replied.
"Name and serial number, please," she asked.
"Rafael… serial number 45-A," he replied in a steady voice.
The clerk's fingers danced across the floating interface, holographic lines shifting and scrolling under her touch.
"Rafael, serial 45-A," she repeated, confirming. "Dorm assignment will be Room 12B, Tower 3. The access card has been linked to your profile. Take it with you."
A small, sleek device appeared in front of Rafael, glowing faintly with cyan circuits. He picked it up carefully, feeling the energy inside.
"Thank you," he said, keeping his tone formal.
"Make sure to follow the corridor to your tower," the clerk added. "Security protocols are active—only your card will open your dorm door. Any attempt to bypass the system will be flagged immediately."
Rafael left with a subtle bow.
Rafael stepped back into the corridor, clutching the dorm card like it was fragile. Its faint cyan glow pulsed against his palm, keeping time with his heartbeat.
Room 12B, Tower 3… That would be his new cage for the foreseeable future.
The dorm towers rose outside, like giant glass-and-alloy sentinels, their frames glowing faint blue in the late sunlight. Tower 3 stood at the center, taller than the rest, with transparent lift tubes spiraling around its core.
Rafael pressed his card against the nearest gate. A pulse of light ran through the panel, scanning him.
"Access confirmed. Welcome, Student Rafael, 45-A."
The gate slid open, and Rafael walked into the tower.
The floor panels lit up, guiding him to the lift. He tapped his card, and the glass tube carried him upward in silence. His reflection stared back, pale and tense, the blue light carving sharp lines across his face, mixing with his blue eyes.
"Level twelve. Room twelve-B," a flat voice said as the doors opened.
The hallway was still, with rows of doors glowing softly, each marked with a student's name. Rafael kept walking until he saw the flicker of his own:
12B – Rafael, 45-A
***
I exist because he does. Weak. Fragile. A body barely able to stand. And yet… there is a spark. A flicker that might grow. A flicker I will feed.
I do not ask. I do not beg. I watch. I wait. Every crack, every fear, every failure—I collect them. I shape them. I twist them like clay. Not yet do I touch him fully. I move the world around him, quietly, so he will bend. So he will reach.
He does not understand me. Not yet. And that is good. Understanding brings hesitation. Doubt. He cannot hesitate. Not now. Not when something is moving toward this world. Something vast. Something that will burn and tear and remake everything.
He… he is one of the few who might survive it. Perhaps even stand.
I shape him. Slowly. Quietly. Not with words. Not yet. I whisper in the dark corners of his mind. I pull at the edges of his fears. I let him stumble, but only where it matters. Only where it will teach him to rise. Every weakness becomes a lesson. Every shame, a tool. He does not know he is learning. Not yet.
I am patient. I am eternal. Time bends around me, but not for him. He will run out of time. The world will not wait. But I will. I will watch. I will wait. I will pull him when he falters. Push him when he hesitates.
He will not see me. He will not understand me. And that is fine. He must think he is alone. He must think the world is his only enemy. He must think it is his strength that will save him. But I will be inside him. Quiet. Patient. Hungry. Always hungry.
And when the day comes—when the skies darken and the world shifts—he will be ready. Or close enough. I cannot fight for him. I cannot carry him. But I can make him notice the pieces of himself he refuses to see. I can make him want them. Need them.
He is mine to shape. Fragile. Afraid. Necessary. I do not rush. I do not push. I wait. I watch. I shape. And I hunger—not for him, not for myself—but for what must come.
The world will scream. And he… he will answer.