---
**Chapter 2: The Stone Screams Your Name**
On the day of Awakening, every 18-year-old kneels before the Oracle Stone—a pulsating orb of black crystal suspended in government sanctums across Vaelora. It drinks your blood with a single prick, then *judges*.
Not skill. Not heart.
It reads your soul's alignment—your *narrative fate*—and stamps you with one of four Roles:
- **Heroine (0.1%)**: Born under storm-lit stars. Commanders of destiny, wielders of Aetherblades, leaders in war and revolution.
- **Hero (5%)**: Strong, noble echoes—sidekicks who sometimes steal glory.
- **Side Character (94%)**: Workers, grunts, background noise—they live to witness history but never shape it.
- **Villain (1%)**: The cursed spark that burns worlds.
Once named… there is no appeal.
Yassu stood barefoot in line at District 7 Sanctum—the slum-born rarely passed through these gilded gates unless summoned as sacrifice fodder for state-run Arenas later.
Blood drawn.
The Stone turned red… then flickered violet… then—
A shiver crawled through the room like rot spreading on fruit.
The Orb cracked—a hairline fracture spiraled down its surface—and from its core came a sound like screaming glass:
***"ROLE ASSIGNED: VILLAIN – ABSOLUTE TIER."***
Silence followed by laughter from officials until they checked deeper logs—and paled instantly.
"Impossible," muttered one clerk. "No Villain has ever scored over Rank VI... This brat got..."
His screen flashed:
🔥 ***POWER FATE: DRAGONFALL CALIBER – THREAT LEVEL OMEGA*** 🔥
They tried to erase him quietly after that—an "accident" in transit—but Yassu woke up choking on metal fumes inside an incineration van bound for molten pits beneath Factory Nine…
And laughed as he burned free with hands wreathed in black flame—flame that fed on emotion… hatred most deliciously…
He whispered three words before collapsing them all:
***"I am rising."***
No hero stepped forward to stop him.
Because heroes only appear when stories allow them…
And this? This was just beginning—the kind where villains rewrite fate itself—one scorched bone at a time.