《Shattered Essence》 The Shattering In the beginning, there was nothing. No sound, no light, no time. But from this void, the universe was born. Some say it was a spark, a cataclysmic burst of energy¡ªthe Big Bang. A single moment of creation from which everything would emerge. Stars, planets, life¡ªall formed from the same primordial chaos. We learned of this, didn''t we? In books, in lectures, in whispers under the starry skies. We were taught that existence itself was born from nothing. Yet what do we truly know of the origins of existence? What if the Big Bang was not the true beginning? What if it was merely the Shattering, the breaking of something that came before, something far older? Some believed the world was the product of a god, a creator whose purpose was to shape and guide. A perfect, harmonized creation, with laws binding every piece of the world together, a cosmos of perfect design, governed by a singular will¡ªa force of unimaginable purpose. Others believed it had always been, a perfect, eternal design. But none of them knew the truth¡ªthe truth of what lay beyond the boundaries of their world. Then came the Shattering. It was not a natural event, this Shattering. It was not like the thunderous birth of stars or the quiet dance of planets around the sun. No. This was the rupture of reality itself. The sky shattered¡ªthe very fabric of the world torn asunder. A rift opened above the earth, a crack so deep and wide that it split the heavens like a scar too deep to heal. As it split, the world shook, time fractured, and space folded in on itself. Lightning poured from the rift, raining down in unnatural colors, scattering chaos across the land. The oceans boiled, the mountains trembled, and the earth itself screamed. The Echelons began to form¡ªplanes upon planes, stacked one atop another. Where there had been stability, now only chaos reigned. The Echelons began to form¡ªplanes upon planes, stacked one atop another. Some say the world was merely an echo of a greater design, an experiment carried out by a being too ancient for comprehension. The world was thrown into chaos. Martial law was declared across every nation, as governments scrambled to maintain control, unable to comprehend the magnitude of what had just occurred. The sky had cracked open, the heavens themselves seemingly torn apart. But the chaos did not abate. Days passed, but no order was restored. The once steady flow of time felt warped, uncertain, as if the very concept of reality was slipping through our fingers. And then came the smaller cracks¡ªfractures in the air itself, thin and almost imperceptible at first, but growing in size with each passing hour. They were fissures, splinters in the fabric of the world, and they were visible to the human eye. Soldiers patrolled the streets, monitoring all those smaller cracks that suddenly appeared. Their faces grim with uncertainty. The cracks shattered. Monsters poured from the rifts¡ªcreatures of unimaginable horror. Their forms twisted, grotesque, and beyond recognition.The world trembled as these creatures ravaged cities, leaving destruction in their wake. But in the midst of this cataclysm, something unexpected began to unfold. It started with whispers¡ªrumors of people gaining strange powers, abilities they had never known before. The Shattering, the tearing of reality itself, had unlocked something dormant in humanity. And now, in the wake of the monsters¡¯ arrival, humanity had been thrust into a new war¡ªone against the creatures of the cracks, yes, but also against an unknown force that seemed to be awakening within them.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. As the cracks continued to shatter, the monsters grew fiercer, but humanity adapted. What began as a helpless struggle for survival turned into a fight for control of the world that had once been theirs. As the turmoil raged on, something remarkable happened: the monsters, though terrifying, were driven back. The powers humans had gained became weapons, and they used them to fight back the darkness that had come from beyond. The first Shattering, though it seemed like the end of everything, was also the beginning of something new. A new world was born from the ashes of the old one. And though the rifts in reality remained, with cracks still forming, humanity had learned to fight, to survive, and perhaps, to thrive in a world shattered and remade. The campus library stood as a relic of a world before the Shattering, its worn walls and sagging shelves a faint whisper of the stability humanity once knew. Outside, rain lashed against tall windows, painting the glass with rippling patterns of light and shadow. The dim, flickering fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, adding to the oppressive stillness of the room. Kieran slumped in his chair, his phone glowing faintly in his hand. The textbooks piled on the desk sat untouched, their titles glaring at him like silent accusations. He swiped lazily through the endless news feeds, his thumb pausing over a video titled: ¡°Gate #874 Cleared! Shardwielders Break Record!¡± The clip autoplayed silently, showing a team of Awakened emerging triumphantly from a glowing rift. Their weapons gleamed, their powers flared, and the monstrous corpse behind them shimmered as it dissolved into the ether. Kieran scoffed, muttering under his breath, ¡°Another gate. Another batch of heroes.¡± He tossed the phone onto the desk, letting it land with a dull thud. The glow dimmed but didn¡¯t turn off, much like his restless thoughts. The Shattering had left the world in chaos¡ªfractured skies, rifts pouring out horrors, and cracks that seemed to splinter the fabric of reality itself. But what lingered more than the physical scars was the divide it left in humanity. Awakened powers had changed everything. Some called it evolution, others a curse, but to Kieran, it was just another reminder of how the world had moved on without him. It wasn¡¯t wrong. The Awakened had reshaped everything¡ªwar, industry, even hope itself. And people like him? They were the leftovers, trying to make sense of a world they no longer belonged to. For years, he¡¯d watched friends awaken, watched them gain shards and abilities that rewrote the rules of life. And here he was, still ordinary, clinging to a future that felt as fractured as the sky above. ¡°Must be nice,¡± Kieran muttered under his breath. He glanced at the stack of books on his desk. They felt irrelevant now, relics of a time when studying could promise stability, success, or purpose. ¡°Why am I even here?¡± he thought bitterly. His mind wandered back to a conversation he¡¯d overheard weeks ago. ¡°Shardwielders don¡¯t need degrees,¡± someone had said, their voice thick with envy. ¡°Just power. The rest of us? We¡¯re the scraps.¡± He picked up his phone again and scrolled aimlessly. Articles about Gates, about Awakened teams, about new frontiers opened by the Shattering filled every corner of the feed. It was all anyone ever talked about. ¡°Gate-clearing squads break into Depths, save lives, rebuild the world,¡± he muttered sarcastically. ¡°And here I am. Trying to pass Advanced Theories of Metaphysics like it¡¯ll matter.¡± Rain hammered harder against the windows, the sound filling the silence with an urgent rhythm. Kieran leaned back, closing his eyes, trying to drown out the thoughts gnawing at his mind. But something was off. The library felt... wrong. The once-familiar space seemed to close in around him, the hum in the room deepened, and a strange chill swept over him. Kieran shivered, rubbing his hands together for warmth. His chest tightened as the world around him began to blur, the edges of his vision distorting like ripples in water. A sudden, searing pain shot through his head, sharp and relentless. He clutched his temples, gasping as fragmented memories crashed over him. He saw flashes of his childhood: standing on a rooftop, staring at the fractured sky, a mix of fear and wonder in his heart. He felt the sting of disappointment as friends awakened, leaving him behind, and the hollow ache of years spent searching for meaning in a world that felt alien. The air had grown colder, sharper, as if the room itself was holding its breath. Kieran opened his eyes, his chest tightening as the hum of the lights deepened into a low, resonant vibration. Shadows seemed to lengthen unnaturally, pooling in the corners of the library, a faint hum growing louder and louder as the pain he felt grew. Then, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, a light appeared. Small, jagged, and pulsing with a strange, otherworldly energy, the shard hovered in the air before him. Its surface was fractured, like a piece of the shattered sky, and it seemed alive¡ªshifting, shimmering, almost breathing. Kieran stared, his heart pounding. He reached out, his fingers trembling as they brushed against the shard¡¯s cracked surface. The moment they touched, a surge of raw energy erupted through him. It wasn¡¯t gentle; it was sharp, violent, relentless. A voice echoed in his mind, low and resonant, like a whisper from the depths of his soul: ¡°You are not forgotten... fractured yet whole... chosen amidst the broken.¡± The shard pulsed again, its energy seeping into him, weaving itself into every fiber of his being. Kieran gasped, his knees buckling as the air around him warped, shadows twisting into impossible shapes. Though the pain in his head was relentless, it carried something else¡ªsomething he hadn¡¯t felt in years. Purpose. The books on his desk toppled to the floor as a gust of unseen energy swirled through the room. Kieran¡¯s breathing was ragged, his mind racing with questions he couldn¡¯t begin to articulate. "What the hell just happened to me?" ¡°Why now? After all this time... Why would it choose someone who¡¯s already been left behind?¡± he muttered, staring at the shard in his hand. Its glow dimmed slightly, but the energy coursing through him remained, fierce and undeniable. He stumbled to his feet, his legs shaking as the oppressive silence of the library returned. The rain outside had slowed, its frantic rhythm replaced by a heavy, muted stillness. Kieran clenched the shard tightly, "heat coursed through his veins followed by a metallic taste akin to blood flooded mouth. His thoughts a chaotic storm of fear, wonder, and defiance. For years, he had been forgotten¡ªby the world, by himself. But the shard had chosen him, fractured and imperfect as he was. He stared at the jagged fragment in his hand, its light casting faint shadows across his face. He didn¡¯t know what this meant, what this would demand of him. But for the first time in a long while, he felt alive. The whisper echoed again, softer this time, but no less potent: [You have awakened.] The words sent a shiver down his spine. The world had changed long ago, leaving him behind. But now, it seemed, the Shattering had given him a second chance. The world had moved on without him, but now it seemed it couldn''t ignore him any longer. And perhaps¡­ neither could he. Tempering The words echoed in Kieran''s mind like a persistent drumbeat: You have awakened. For so long, he had been an observer, a bystander in a world that seemed to pass him by. And now, suddenly, something had changed. The world, which had once felt cold and indifferent, seemed to be shifting in his direction. A surge of purpose washed over him, like the shard itself had reignited a spark within him that had long since dimmed. Finally, he thought, I don¡¯t have to be left out anymore. It was a strange feeling, the kind that made his stomach churn with uncertainty but also filled him with bristling anticipation. Kieran didn¡¯t waste any time. The moment the shard had vanished from his grip, leaving only a searing sensation in his veins, his mind had already set a course. He needed to go to the Awakener Chamber. It was the logical next step, the one place that could help him make sense of what had just happened. The Awakener Chamber, a semi-governmental institution backed by private funding, was the bridge for those who had awakened. For people like Kieran, thrust into this chaotic world without warning, it offered guidance¡ªa way to navigate the confusion and fear that came with newfound power. Created with the sole purpose of helping the newly awakened integrate into society, the Awakener Chamber also managed the Shattered Gates¡ªmysterious rifts in reality that spilled out monsters and otherworldly dangers. The Shardlings, those who had mastered their powers, were the ones sent to clear these gates and protect what was left of the world. Kieran didn¡¯t know any of the procedures for what came next. He had only heard rumors, vague whispers from others who had awakened before him. They said there were seminars for people like him¡ªnewly awakened¡ªheld in large halls. It was all so overwhelming, so strange. He pulled himself together, shoving lingering doubts aside. He wasn¡¯t going to get anywhere sitting still, wallowing in confusion. The shard had chosen him. It had granted him power, however dangerous or confusing it was. Now, it was time to find out exactly what that meant. Walking briskly down the hall of the library, Kieran slipped past the stacks of forgotten books and toward the exit. The rain had slowed, its incessant tapping against the windows now a distant murmur. The air felt thick with the weight of the unknown, but Kieran didn¡¯t hesitate. He had no idea what to expect, but that didn¡¯t matter. He had to try. --- Kieran arrived at the Awakener Chamber, the large building looming before him like a monolith. It wasn¡¯t an imposing structure, but there was something about it that made him feel small, as if the sheer presence of it was enough to make him question his place in the world. He entered through the sliding glass doors, immediately greeted by the sterile, clinical atmosphere of the lobby. White walls, chrome furniture, and muted lighting created a sense of cold professionalism. The receptionist behind the counter barely glanced up from her screen as she gestured toward a hallway on the right. ¡°The seminar for newly awakened is through there,¡± she said, her voice distant, almost robotic. Kieran gave a terse nod in thanks and stepped toward the hallway. As he passed, he couldn¡¯t help but overhear snippets of conversation¡ªpeople discussing their powers, their shards, the inevitable tests they had to pass. Everyone seemed so sure of themselves, so confident in the path they were about to embark on. But Kieran felt none of that. He felt out of place, like a drop of water trying to fit into a dam. His hand gripped the edge of his jacket as he walked, the fabric crinkling in his fingers. The room where the seminar was being held was large, with rows of chairs lined up in neat, orderly rows. A few dozen people were already there, some sitting in groups, others alone, their eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Kieran took a seat near the back, far from the crowd. He wanted to observe first, to listen and learn before anything else. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself, especially with his mind still reeling from the surge of power he¡¯d felt earlier. The room quieted as a figure ascended the stage. The woman who stepped into view commanded attention. She was striking¡ªtall, with sharp, angular features and dark, shoulder-length hair that framed her face like a perfect portrait. Her eyes were a piercing shade of green, the kind that could see right through you. Despite the stern expression she wore, there was an undeniable elegance about her. She moved with a quiet authority, her every step measured and purposeful. Her uniform was a fitted military-style outfit, a deep shade of black, adorned with sleek silver accents on the shoulders and wrists, indicating her rank within the Awakener hierarchy. The outfit was tactical, clearly made for someone of her caliber¡ªsomeone who had seen the battlefield and commanded respect.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The tight, practical clothing showed off her lean, athletic build, while the utility belt around her waist carried various tools, signaling her readiness for any situation. Despite the utilitarian nature of her clothes, there was an undeniable beauty in the way they fit her, making her seem both formidable and captivating. ¡°Welcome,¡± she said, her voice cutting through the room. It was commanding yet calm¡ªa voice that drew immediate attention. ¡°I¡¯m here to guide you through what you¡¯ve just experienced, what you¡¯ve just become, and what comes next." "But first, know this: You are no longer the person you once were. You have awakened, and with that comes responsibility.¡± Kieran shifted in his seat, his gaze fixed on her. Her words struck a chord, reminding him of the hollow ache he had felt for so long. He wasn¡¯t just ordinary anymore. He was different, and that difference was something he couldn¡¯t ignore. She spoke of the Shattered Gates, of the beasts that came through them, of the Shardlings and their dangerous missions. She spoke of powers¡ªthe elemental, the telekinetic, and the reality-bending. Of the Shattered Gates, teeming with horrors, and the Shardlings tasked with closing them. But what lingered most in Kieran¡¯s mind was her explanation of the shards themselves. ¡°Your shard is a reflection of your emotional pain,¡± she said. ¡°The cause of your awakening. To understand your power, you must confront the pain that shaped it. The Tempering will bring this truth to light.¡± Emotional pain. That¡¯s what she said. That¡¯s what awakened them. The shard had awakened inside him, but why? What had caused it? Everyone here had their own reason, their own pain. They weren¡¯t just given power randomly. Awakening wasn¡¯t a simple matter of gaining strength¡ªno, it was an intricate, painful process. The Awakener Chamber¡¯s purpose wasn¡¯t just to train the newly awakened; it was also to help them understand the cause of their awakening. It wasn¡¯t as simple as just having power, though. No. Most people who awakened didn¡¯t even understand what had triggered it. Their shards, like shards of glass, would remain fractured and vague, their statuses showing only [???]. Kieran¡¯s hand tightened around his jacket. His mind drifted to his own shard. Following the instructions given, Kieran immediately summoned his glass shard. It floated, translucent, showing his current status. Kieran Vale Shard: [???] Strength: 5 Agility: 4 Dexterity: 3 Abilities: [???], [???], [???] ¡°Is this my stats? It looks rather weak,¡± he muttered to himself after viewing it. Just like those webtoons he''d been reading, the glass shard showed him the exact strength and ability he had. In order to fully understand their power, they had to fuse their shard with a grade 1 basic shard¡ªa colorless crystal that enhanced their abilities, gave them strength and agility, and helped them discover the pain that had triggered their awakening. It was this fusion, this uncovering, that would allow them to finally understand why they were chosen. But what if I never understand? Kieran¡¯s mind raced. What if my shard stays like this forever? He wasn¡¯t alone in his uncertainty. Around him, others fidgeted in their seats, casting nervous glances at the status boards flashing above them. Some of the displays were filled with glowing numbers and attributes, others with only the haunting word [???]. It was a silent declaration of their own confusion, their own struggle to grasp the pain that had triggered their awakening. And then there were the worst cases, the ones who had ignored their shards or couldn¡¯t come to terms with their pain. If left unchecked, their shards would grow uncontrollably, causing their emotions to fracture. They would become overwhelmed by the sheer weight of their own power, and the cracks in their soul would deepen, eventually turning them into terrifying monsters known as Fracturized. Kieran swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in. His thoughts flickered back to the shard inside him. It was growing. He could feel it, the pressure building up. It wasn¡¯t just an ability¡ªit was a ticking time bomb. The more he thought about it, the more terrified he became. And yet, a small part of him felt strangely relieved. He wasn¡¯t alone in this. Everyone here had their own shard, their own pain. Perhaps that was the first step¡ªunderstanding it. And maybe, just maybe, he would find the answers he was looking for. The seminar continued, but Kieran¡¯s mind was lost in the storm of thoughts swirling around him. The shard had chosen him. Now, he had to learn why. --- "Alright, everyone," the woman on stage announced, her voice steady yet filled with an underlying tension. "We will now move to the lower floor of the hall where you''ll begin your Tempering." The murmurs in the hall grew louder at her words. Tempering¡ªthe process where an awakener infused their personal glass shard with a grade-1 glass shard, unlocking the truth of their emotional pain. It was a trial that not only manifested their trauma but also determined their abilities. The danger of failing, however, was always present. If the shards overwhelmed an awakener¡¯s soul, they would Fracturize, becoming a threat to themselves and everyone around them. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as the first group of participants, seated near the front, began to rise. Each was paired with a Fractured Ascendant, their solemn guardians clad in black military uniforms. These powerful individuals, who had survived their own awakening and ascended beyond ordinary limits, served as countermeasures. It was a silent acknowledgment of the risk that someone here might fail, succumbing to their shards and losing their humanity. As I waited for my turn, seated at the back of the hall, my mind began to spiral. The uncertainty clawed at me. What if I failed? What if my shard overtakes me, and I Fracturize? My thoughts tightened in a vice grip, the very idea of dying here¡ªkilled as a failure before I¡¯d even begun¡ªgnawed at my resolve. The feeling of dread threatened to consume me when a soft voice interrupted my spiraling thoughts. ¡°Shardling Kieran?¡± Startled, I turned to see a young woman standing behind me. She wore the same military uniform as the others, the silver insignia on her sleeve identifying her as a Fractured Ascendant. Despite her formal attire, her appearance was anything but intimidating. Her sharp features were softened by a calm expression, and her warm brown eyes reflected an unspoken empathy. She didn¡¯t seem much older than me¡ªperhaps a year or two. ¡°I¡¯ve been calling your name,¡± she said, her lips curving into a small smile. Her voice was gentle, yet her presence carried an unshakable confidence. ¡°Are you okay?¡± I blinked, realizing I had been staring at her. Embarrassed, I quickly nodded. ¡°Yeah¡­ I¡¯m fine.¡± She didn¡¯t seem convinced but let it slide. ¡°I¡¯m Aria, your assigned guard. I¡¯ll be with you through the process.¡± With that, we joined the line heading toward the door on the far side of the hall. Aria walked beside me, her pace slow and measured. As we descended the stairs toward the Tempering chambers, she broke the silence with a series of casual questions¡ªwhere I was from, how I was feeling, what my favorite food was. It was clear she was trying to lighten the mood, but I barely responded, my focus locked on the weight of what lay ahead. For someone who had likely faced death countless times, she was surprisingly talkative. When we finally reached the chamber, the air grew colder, the atmosphere heavy with tension. Rows of crystalline shards sat on pedestals, their surfaces shimmering faintly under the dim lighting. ¡°Nervous?¡± she asked, her tone light, though her eyes carried a weight of understanding. Kieran hesitated. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ just trying to figure it all out.¡± She offered a small, reassuring smile. ¡°You¡¯re not the first to feel that way. Just remember: your shard reflects you. Face it honestly, and you¡¯ll come out stronger.¡± Her words lingered as they entered the chamber. Rows of crystalline shards sat on pedestals, shimmering faintly. Kieran¡¯s shard pulsed in response, resonating with the colorless grade-1 shard waiting for him¡ªa grade-1 glass shard, colorless and plain, yet holding the power to tear apart his soul if he wasn¡¯t strong enough. Aria¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°This is where it gets real. The Tempering isn¡¯t just a test of strength¡ªit¡¯s a confrontation with yourself. Succeed, and you¡¯ll stabilize. Fail¡­¡± Aria stepped to the side, gesturing toward the pedestal nearest us. ¡°This is yours,¡± she said, her voice quieter now, tinged with something I couldn¡¯t quite place. I glanced at her, noticing the faint, almost bitter smile on her lips. Was she nervous? Did she think I would fail? Or was I just projecting my own fears onto her? Before I could dwell on it further, I asked, ¡°Do you have any tips for a newcomer?¡± She hesitated, her gaze meeting mine for a moment before she replied. ¡°Just remember that there¡¯s always tomorrow, and your pain¡ªit¡¯s not your weakness. It¡¯s what makes you stronger.¡± Her words lingered in the air as I turned toward the shard. Reaching out, I placed my hand on the cold surface, feeling its weight press against my mind like a physical force. Tempering. It wasn¡¯t just about power¡ªit was about facing the deepest, most intense trauma buried within oneself. The shard would force me to confront the very pain that had awakened it. If I succeeded, I would emerge stronger, more in control of my newfound abilities. But if I failed¡­ I closed my eyes, taking a steadying breath as I hold the shard. The world around him dissolved, replaced by an endless void. In the emptiness, fragments of memory began to surface¡ªfamiliar yet distorted. A faint, rhythmic hum echoed, each beat pulling him deeper into the core of his being. "Kieran Vale, why did you awaken? What pain binds you to this shard?" I asked myself. The question wasn¡¯t spoken aloud, but it echoed nonetheless, carving through him like a blade.