If someone told me a few months ago that I'd be standing in a grand hall the size of a small castle, surrounded by nobles wearing more jewelry than a treasure vault, I would have laughed. Yet here I was—Rishi Lux Darknorth—late, stressed, and internally screaming.
The Awakening Hall shimmered beneath the chandeliers, gold light spilling over polished marble. The air was thick with incense and the scent of tension—mostly mine.
The Duke had spoken, the nobles had taken their cautious steps back, and the young heirs lined up before the great Awakening Orb—a giant sphere swirling with silver mist and old-world gravitas. Each step echoed like a countdown to destiny.
And of course, the first in line was none other than Serenya Lux Darknorth.
My cousin, the family prodigy, the walking masterpiece of talent, grace, and moonlight. She looked so perfect standing there that I half expected the orb to kneel in reverence.
She placed her hand on the orb. The thing reacted instantly, glowing in waves of ice blue, pale green, and silver.
"Ice… Wind… and Moon!" an elder gasped, as if witnessing the rebirth of the gods themselves.
The crowd went wild. Nobles clapped, children whispered in awe, and even the Duke's eternally calm face cracked into the faintest smile.
And then the orb exploded—well, not literally, but close enough. The hall filled with dazzling silver light as spiritual energy rippled out like a tidal wave.
When it cleared, a figure shimmered behind Serenya: a translucent being shaped like a maiden woven from mist, crescent sigils glowing along her body.
"She's awakened a Spirit!" another elder shrieked.
Cue thunderous applause. Cheers. Maybe even a few fainting servants.
I clapped too.
Finally, the hall grew quiet again. The elder beside the orb straightened and announced,"Next—Rishi Lux Darknorth."
The crowd shifted, curious. I could practically feel the unspoken commentary.
'Ah, the Duke's nephew. Let's see if talent runs in the family—or stops at Serenya.'
I stepped forward with all the confidence of a man walking to his execution.
The orb loomed before me, pulsing faintly. My reflection stared back—black hair, black eyes, and a look that screamed please don't humiliate me.
"All right," I muttered under my breath. "Let's make history or humiliation. Fifty-fifty odds."
I pressed my palm against the orb.
For a second—nothing.
Then—fwoom!—light flared violently, bathing the hall in molten orange. Flames licked across the orb's surface, twisting and coiling like serpents.
"Fire affinity!" an elder shouted.
But before they could finish their sentence, the flames solidified into sharp, gleaming fragments—crystal, glowing a brilliant amber-orange, as if molten magma had been frozen in time.
"Dual affinity—Fire and Crystal!" someone announced.
Gasps filled the room. A dual elemental was rare, but not unheard of. The nobles murmured approvingly, and I allowed myself a small smirk. All right, not bad. Not moon-spirit level, but respectable.
Then, suddenly—my vision blurred. The hall vanished, the sound of applause fading like an echo in a cave.
When my eyes opened again, I was standing in a grey void.
No light. No ground. No sky. Just endless mist.
I blinked. "Okay. Either I'm hallucinating, or I've just been isekai'd again."
A faint rustling came from the fog. Something small slithered toward me.
It emerged—a snake. But not your everyday garden variety noodle.
This one had two heads. One white as snow, scales glinting with moonlit sheen and eyes like liquid sapphire. The other black as night, eyes burning crimson. Its body shimmered between the two colors as it moved, like it couldn't decide whether to freeze me or set me on fire.
"Well," I said, crouching down. "You're… cute. Terrifying, but cute. I was expecting a dragon or a phoenix, maybe even a talking sword. Instead, I get a sentient shoelace with a personality crisis."
Both heads hissed. One sounded elegant and offended; the other hissed like it wanted to bite my face.
"Right, right," I added quickly. "You're majestic and powerful, I get it."
It circled me slowly, as if judging my worth. For a second, I half-expected a voice to echo dramatically—'You are unworthy, mortal.'
But instead, it just nudged my boot and stared at me.
"...You want me to pet you?"
It nodded. Both heads.
And just like that, I felt something stir in my soul—a pulse of warmth and chill, of light and shadow.
"Oh," I breathed. "You're my spirit."
Both heads blinked.
"Well, that's unexpected."
I had assumed I'd awaken some kind of system, maybe a transmigration perk, or at least something that screamed main-character energy. But nope. The universe gave me a dual-headed noodle with attitude.
Still, it felt… right. Balanced. Like two halves of me—one from Earth, one from Aldoria—had found their bridge.
I extended my hand. "All right, buddy. Let's make it official."
The snake slithered up my arm, its fangs pricking my skin lightly. A burning sensation shot through my little finger as a symbol appeared—two intertwined serpents, one white, one black, circling each other eternally.
Then the grey world shattered.
Light swallowed everything.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the Awakening Hall. The orb beside me was glowing faintly orange, the flames and crystal shimmer fading.
Everyone stared at me.
At first, I thought they were unimpressed. Then I realized—the air around me was vibrating.
A faint pulse of spirit energy—mine—was radiating from my body, strong enough to make the orb quiver.
The nobles gasped.
"He's awakened… a Spirit as well!" an elder exclaimed, almost choking on his words.
The hall broke into stunned murmurs.
Serenya blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly. Even she hadn't expected this.
I, meanwhile, was desperately trying to control the aura leaking from me before I accidentally vaporized my shoes.
Great, I thought, first I oversleep, then I upstage my cousin by accident. I'm either going to be praised as a genius or assassinated before dinner.
The elder cleared his throat. "Fire and Crystal dual affinities… and an unclassified Spirit resonance!"
The applause that followed was hesitant at first—then enthusiastic, though not nearly as thunderous as Serenya's. Which was fine by me. Less attention meant fewer scheming old foxes sniffing around.
I exhaled slowly and stepped back into line, rubbing the faintly glowing snake mark on my finger.
Across the hall, Serenya's spirit shimmered faintly beside her, elegant and regal. I gave her a grin; she smiled back.
All right, I thought, watching the nobles whisper among themselves. She has a moon spirit, and I have a twin-headed noodle. Somehow, this feels balanced.
And as the ceremony continued, I couldn't help but laugh softly to myself.
In a world of gods, heroes, and monsters, I had awakened not as the chosen one—but as the sarcastic extra who just accidentally stole the little spotlight.