"Welcome, fellow students."
The man's voice carried without effort.
"My name is Charon. For those who don't know, I come from the Helstin family."
A ripple went through the room.
"I am an Endowed. I survived my first Vigil and my first Solstice long ago, and I am currently exploring the Hollow."
That alone was enough to quiet anyone still breathing too loudly.
"Usually, those who participate in the Solstice receive around a year of training beforehand. You are not so lucky."
No sympathy. Just fact.
"The Solstice is in three months. That does not leave you much time. It is unheard of for this many to be Touched so close to the Solstice—but fear not. This school exists for one reason: to teach you as much as possible so you might survive."
Might.
"If you survive, the Voice will grant you free access to enter and leave the Hollow at will. If you choose never to step into it again, that is your choice."
He paused, letting that settle.
"There are roughly three thousand of you here. Not all of you will survive. But if you listen to your instructors and follow their guidance, your chances improve."
A hand rose from one of the groups.
"What's the average survival rate for the first Solstice?"
Charon didn't hesitate.
"About half," he said evenly. "Given your shortened training period—possibly less."
A chill moved through the room.
"Focus all your intent on learning what you can."
He turned slightly, signaling the end.
"If that is all, head to the cafeteria. You will be called individually for an interview to discuss your first Vigil. Based on that information, you will be ranked."
My stomach dropped.
An interview.
I'd need to give as little information as possible.
"Have a nice day."
That was it.
The cafeteria was… unreal.
Steak.
Actual steak.
Potatoes. Broccoli. A buffet. Even dessert.
I sat, staring at my tray. The smell of it made my stomach twist—salt, grease, warmth. Too much of everything. Enough to remind me how long it had been since I'd eaten without counting every bite. My hands shook as I piled food high, saliva pooling in my mouth. I'd never eaten like this before—not scraps, not stolen bites, not half-rotten leftovers. Real food. And for the first time, I was alive enough to feel it.
I ate until my stomach burned, until nausea clawed at me—but I couldn't stop. Each bite was a reminder that I existed in a world where survival didn't mean scavenging. When I finally leaned back, dizzy and overstuffed, I felt both sickened and exhilarated.
Names were called one by one, pulling students out of the cafeteria. I barely noticed. My thoughts had already turned inward.
Attribute: Those Who Follow
Explanation: Do not forgive why you live.
I still didn't understand it. Who was following me? And why would I forgive my own life? Maybe I wasn't truly alone.
I heard my name.
"Asher. Mr. Helstin will see you now."
The hallways stretched high above me—white stone, polished, pristine. Thirty feet of gleaming walls. I focused. Half-truths. Let him reach his own conclusions.
"Asher, please take a seat," Mr. Helstin said, calm and even.
"First, I'd like to ask—do you feel any lingering trauma from your first Vigil? Don't be afraid to speak freely."
Speak freely, huh? Sure. If I wanted everyone to know me.
"No," I said. "It wasn't traumatizing. Just… difficult to survive."
"So you came close to dying?"
"Yes. Countless times. Mostly the cold and hunger."
He nodded. "So your Vigil focused on environmental survival."
Exactly. He's forming the story for me.
"Yes. Alone. Freezing mountain biome. No food. No water."
"That explains the lack of trauma," he said. "Did you receive anything from your Vigil?"
"Just clothing to keep warm." Please don't ask more. Please don't mention Hellhide.
"All right," he said. "Environmental endurance. Useful—but potentially detrimental during the Solstice. And your attribute?"
"I haven't activated it yet. Useless so far."
"Low ranking then," he murmured. "Probably Touched-tier."
He made a note, satisfied.
Charon tapped the slate beside him. "Your focus should be clear: environmental survival and combat. Those will be your assigned tracks."
I shook my head. "No objections."
"Good. Environmental will keep you alive. Combat will decide how long you stay that way. You're officially enrolled."
"All right, Asher. Return to the cafeteria and await further instructions."
I exhaled. It went perfectly.
Back in the cafeteria, whispers followed me.
"That was fast."
"Not as impressive as he claimed."
I lowered my gaze with a smile.
The screens flickered. Rankings.
Top: Trace. Sunlight-blonde hair. Calm. Beautiful in a way that demanded distance. The room held its collective breath. Cedrick, ranked second, stepped forward.
"As expected," he said softly. "Heir to the Star Clan."
I stiffened. The Star Clan—strongest clan in history. Supposedly extinct. Trace didn't flinch. Pride, denial, annoyance? None. Just stillness.
Second to last. Me. Whispers rose. "He was lying." "Knew it." "Won't last a week."
I lowered my gaze, hiding the smile tugging at my lips.
Then my eyes flicked to the bottom. Last place. The girl no one approached before. White hair like silk, endless blue eyes. Still. Silent. Wrong. Not weak. Not afraid. Just… unknown.
Charon's voice cut through the tension. "Rankings are based on strength and survival potential. Everyone to the front. Take a map and your room key. You'll live alone. Training and classes start tomorrow. Rest. Prepare."
I kept my gaze on the last-place girl. A quiet warning, maybe. Or something else. Something I'd need to understand soon.
I went to my room, shut the door, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
No more waiting.
I activated my attribute.
Something peeled away from me.
My shadow stretched—then stood up.
It detached itself from the floor like liquid darkness and faced me. No eyes. No mouth. And yet I knew it was looking at me.
I reached out and tried to touch it.
My hand passed straight through.
Intangible.
I shifted to the side.
It didn't.
The shadow remained still, arms at its sides, staring. Then—somehow—it sighed. Not audibly, but unmistakably. Like it was already tired of me.
"Did you just—" I muttered.
It crossed its arms. Pointed at me. Then tapped where my head would be.
…Think.
"Okay," I said slowly.
I focused and gave it a command—not aloud, but in my mind.
Pick up the book on the coffee table by the entrance.
The shadow turned, walked across the room, and lifted the book.
My breath caught.
Then I tried again.
Jump.
It jumped.
And somehow—despite having no face—I could tell it was mocking me.
"Are those too simple for you?" I said, irritation creeping into my voice.
The shadow waved me off dismissively.
Annoying.
I willed it back down, flattening it into a normal shadow on the floor, then dragged it along the wall. Total control. Absolute obedience.
But—
"It can't touch anything unless I let it manifest," I muttered. "So what's the point?"
The shadow shook its head. Then slapped its palm into its other hand, slow and exaggerated.
"Hey. I'm learning," I snapped. "Don't get an attitude."
It rose from the floor again at my command. Then pointed to itself. Then to me. Then back to itself.
I frowned. "What?"
It repeated the gesture, slower this time. Then paused. Finally, it slumped, shoulders drooping.
Gave up.
Great.
Whatever this was—it wasn't just following me.
It expected me to understand.