《Echoes of the Golden Demon.》 1.01.1 The boy named Dan. "I need to hurry." The words escaped the lips of a young man with dark, untamed hair and brown skin. His face was unremarkable, almost painfully so¡ªordinary to the point of invisibility in a crowd. His dull, unfocused eyes betrayed a lack of sharpness, an emptiness that hinted at something broken. He was short for his nineteen years, his slight frame and timid demeanor lending him the appearance of a boy too young and fragile for the world he was about to face. The world had other plans for him, however. He was heading to the Mass Awakening Ceremony, a ritual that was meant to unlock extraordinary potential in ordinary humans. But for that, we need to go back¡ªto seventy years ago. It started when Towers rose, piercing the skies above densely populated areas, and fractures in reality bled across the earth like open wounds. These tears linked humanity''s world to countless others, forging a chaotic bridge to alien realms. At first, these intrusions were manageable. Then came the stronger ones¡ªthe mutated ones¡ªbeings with powers so far beyond human comprehension that survival became desperation. Mutations followed, but not just for the invaders. Some among humanity began to change, developing powers of their own. They were humanity''s first defenders, and they began to claw back what had been lost. The war dragged on for decades, a war that consumed lives and nations. While most of the world remained scarred but standing, Australia had been swallowed whole by the enemy. It might have ended there, with a fractured earth and humanity rebuilding. But it didn''t. The Towers opened their gates, revealing something far worse: the Maker''s Domain. A crucible that demanded the strongest of every plane battle their way to the top. A chance for godhood, or annihilation. And the Maker? Silent. Unyielding. The invasions wouldn''t stop until someone claimed the throne at the Tower''s apex. Humanity, bleeding and desperate, scrambled to adapt. The Awakening Ceremony was created to give anyone¡ªeven the weakest¡ªa chance. It wasn''t altruism. It was desperation. The search for saviors had no room for bias. Even those like the boy currently running to the ceremony, so unremarkable it hurt to look at him, were allowed to try. But unknown to the boy, he was being watched. Not far behind, a woman followed his every step, her gaze sharp and calculating. She was dressed elegantly, surrounded by servants who hung back like shadows, their eyes betraying unease. "Mistress, for you to come here personally..." one of the maids ventured, her voice low and cautious. The woman waved her off with a sharp flick of her wrist. "Say nothing foolish," she snapped. Her tone carried the weight of someone unaccustomed to dissent. The maid hesitated, then pressed on. "If word spreads that you''ve come for a commoner boy¡ª" "Enough," the woman interrupted, her voice cold. "What others think is of no consequence." The maid swallowed her retort and lowered her eyes. In truth, her mistress had changed since her own awakening. The talent she had gained was extraordinary, a power that set her apart even among the elite. Yet it seemed to come with a price¡ªfits of paranoia, moments of silence where she seemed utterly lost. Recently, her mistress had issued strange orders: find a boy matching a vague description. When the boy was found, the maids had been baffled. He was no one¡ªa dim-witted orphan who could barely hold down menial work. The boy had suffered a brain injury as a child, leaving him slow and clumsy. At the orphanage, the other children had stolen his food and mocked his stupidity. Starvation stunted his growth, leaving him frail and underdeveloped. A pathetic story, but not an uncommon one. The world had no room for pity. Resources were scarce, and those who couldn''t contribute were left to rot. The woman''s lips pressed into a thin line. "The ignorant will think what they want. I don''t care." The maid bowed. "My apologies, Mistress." The woman''s gaze returned to the boy. He was oblivious to her scrutiny, muttering something under his breath as he ran. His movements were awkward, his limbs uncoordinated. He looked lost in thought¡ªor in a mantra. She had seen his face before. Not in this life, but in her visions. Titled the Perceiver of the Akasha, her talent allowed her to see the future in harrowing detail and send fragments of that knowledge back to her past self. The vision she had received was one of devastation¡ªhumanity''s fall, the earth''s conquest by alien races. And at the end of it all, an anomaly. That anomaly was the boy in front of her. The future showed him as something monstrous, his psionic power vast enough to rival gods. But his body, frail and flawed, had failed him. He had collapsed under the weight of his own abilities, his body shattering into pieces of his own might before his enemies could. She clenched her fists. That future wouldn''t come to pass. "If he awakens, no matter his rating, bring him to the best doctor. Find what''s wrong with him," she ordered, her voice a sharp blade. The maid hesitated but relented. "As you wish, Mistress."This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The woman turned away, her expression unreadable. Her mind was already far ahead, planning. The future wasn''t constant, but her involvement could tip the scales. For better¡ªor worse. There were no words to describe the foolish mistake her mistress was making, but what could she do? Her mistress was the eye candy of her daily life, the only girl among five siblings. Her older brothers and father adored her, showering her with love constantly. Perhaps that constant adoration contributed to her insolent nature. On the other hand, the boy¡ªso full of unyielding vigor¡ªwalked toward the school grounds on his two legs, slow and steady. It wasn''t as though he could rush, not with the injury to his brain. The impaired synchronicity of his limbs made him clumsy, and hasty movements often resulted in falls¡ªor worse. That''s why the boy, though unaided by a stick or support, walked deliberately. "If I am there, life will be better. I will be there, then life will be better. I will go there, and life will be wonderful." He kept repeating variations of the same phrase, his hopeful mantra revealing the weight he placed on this ceremony. "Food will be enough, life will be better..." His words were a window into the pain he had endured, the deep scars left on his heart and mind. His simplicity was often exploited, and kindness was a rare luxury. The world''s cruelty would have broken the spirit of any sane person. But the boy''s limited intelligence spared him even the luxury of going insane. He seemed like a foolish four-year-old trapped in a man''s body, left to fend for himself in a world that had no love for him. Still, he sought that love¡ªa love he had never known in his short, difficult life. Before long, he reached the school grounds. "Hey, isn''t that the fool? Even he was allowed here?" "The special ed kid... won''t it be dangerous if someone like him awakens an ability?" The murmurs carried through the crowd, laced with fear and disdain. Their concerns weren''t unfounded. Granting immense power to someone with the mind of a child was like handing a loaded gun to a toddler. The awakening ceremony, after all, wasn''t just a ritual¡ªit was a gamble. If not for the desperate state of the world, no one would have bothered awakening someone like him. But not everyone shared this sentiment. "Hey, fool, why are you here?" A group of boys surrounded him, their eyes glinting with malice. The boy shrank under their gaze, suddenly meek. "I will go, and life will be better," he said softly, as if his mantra could shield him. The boys smirked at his words. "This bastard... You get to eat and live for free on our taxes," one of them sneered before slapping the boy. He stumbled back, clutching his head in fear but unable to avoid the blow. "A retard like you wants to awaken?" The boy didn''t respond. Though slow, he knew that silence was the safest choice to avoid further pain. So he stood quietly as insults and curses rained down on him. The surrounding crowd? They watched but did nothing, turning a blind eye to the unfolding cruelty. But one person refused to stay silent. "Stop it," a young man''s voice cut through the noise. He rushed to the scene and pushed the bullies aside. "What is wrong with you guys?" he demanded, disgust evident on his face. "Can''t you see he''s not right?" "Jeremy, this has nothing to do with you," said the leader of the group, a boy with thin glasses and a frail frame. Despite his weak appearance, no one dared to look down on him. His name was Yydvin Lass, a student who commanded respect not through wealth or influence but through sheer discipline and hard work. "What we''re doing is justified," Yydvin argued. "We can''t let just anyone awaken." "That''s not for you to decide," Jeremy shot back, helping the boy to his feet. "Who knows? He might awaken something useful. There''ve been plenty of cases like that recently." "Those are exceptions," Yydvin retorted, pushing up his glasses. "You can''t generalize all fools into the same category. Don''t forget the ones who turned to crime¡ªmost of them out of ignorance." Jeremy frowned. "You really think he''s capable of any crime?" Yydvin crossed his arms. "It doesn''t matter. I can''t see the future, and neither can you. But the League of Awakeners is being reckless, letting anyone awaken." Jeremy didn''t want to argue semantics. All he did was mock Yydvin, asking him if he knew better than the League of Awakeners. He knew the League of Awakeners (LOA) had safeguards in place for dangerous ability users. Suppressors, originally developed for medical purposes, were freely distributed to individuals deemed too dangerous. If this boy awakened an uncontrollable ability, those same measures would apply. "What kind of question is that?" Yydvin scoffed at Jeremy''s defense. "Of course, I''m better than the LOA. But talking to you is like talking to a wall. Let''s go, guys." The group dispersed, and Jeremy sighed in relief. Turning to the boy, he smiled. "No need to be scared. What''s your name?" The boy hesitated, as if the question was foreign to him. "I... My name? Dan... and I want a better life." From a distance, she observed the scene with a faint smile. Seated in the caf¨¦, her sharp eyes remained on Dan. This is where it all began, she thought. She knew Jeremy well. He would awaken an incredible ability¡ªregeneration, an almost godlike power that would make him nearly immortal. Years later, he would fight in the Maker''s Domain for thirty years before returning, but not without carrying guilt. Guilt that would compel him to fund Dan''s hospital bills after the boy''s ability caused unforeseen issues. Issues that rendered the poor Dan immobile and incapable for decades on end due to his absurd ability that was more of a curse. It''s guilt, she mused, her gaze shifting to Yydvin. She didn''t know much about him¡ªher future self had sent back information on Dan and a few others, but Yydvin wasn''t among them. That could only mean one thing. Not everyone is built for greatness. Her eyes returned to Dan. A boy who would one day rise to challenge godlike beings despite his broken mind and body. The world is wonderfully odd, she thought. At the venue entrance, Jeremy guided Dan to the registration line. The guard handed each of them a pill, the awakening catalyst necessary for the ceremony. Dan hesitated, struggling to swallow the pill without water. "Water... Swallowing hard without water," he complained. Jeremy turned to the nurse, who handed Dan a water bottle with a kind smile. This small act of compassion earned a few grumbles from the students behind them. "Hurry up!" Jeremy ignored them. He understood their impatience¡ªthe ceremony was a life-changing event, after all. "Come on, Dan. I''ll take you to a good spot," Jeremy said, leading the frail boy into the venue. At the head of the auditorium, League of Awakeners officers surveyed the crowd of over three thousand students. "How many good ones do you think we''ll get from this batch?" one officer asked. "If we get ten useful awakenings, it''ll be a success," her partner replied. "Hopefully no runners this time," she said, referring to those who awakened and fled to hide their abilities¡ªa crime in this jurisdiction. The principal smiled smugly. "Don''t worry, officers. We''ve sealed the doors and hired Returners to ensure no one escapes." The officers exchanged glances. "Let''s hope your precautions are enough," the woman said, her tone skeptical. 1.01.2 The Awakening ceremony. Those who run away after awakening are generally considered dangerous. These individuals often don''t want their abilities discovered or to work under the League of Awakeners (LOA). In exchange for being artificially awakened, most awakeners are placed under the direct regulation of the LOA, effectively owned by them. For most people, this isn''t an issue since their abilities rarely require interference from the LOA. But in those rare instances where someone awakens a unique or powerful ability, they become potential seeds to be closely monitored. However, another reason exists for why some choose to become runners. "Commence the awakening," ordered the LOA officer to the staff overseeing the magic circle management. "Principal Jalgan, ensure the guards remain vigilant from this point on," she added, her expression tinged with worry. The process of artificial awakening was entirely controlled by the LOA, and without them, it couldn''t happen at all. This created problems for certain groups and organizations looking to recruit fresh talent without being detected. These groups often approached promising seeds with offers: unlock a powerful ability, escape from the ceremony grounds, and they would grant them new identities and protection before integrating them into their ranks. Considering the sheer number of orphans these days, it wasn''t difficult to sway disillusioned kids down this path. To prevent such runners, security was always tight. The two LOA officers present were there not just to oversee the ceremony but also to deal with any disturbances caused by awakenings. "Please take the stage, Principal Jalgan," the head officer requested as the magic circles were prepared. As he had done countless times before, Jalgan began his speech. "Children, today is the day your lives will change forever¡­" The students, however, paid him little attention. They were consumed by their own thoughts, dreaming of the potential hidden within their blood and the wealth they might acquire once their abilities awakened. Greed flickered in their eyes, silently urging the principal to hurry and start the ceremony. "With that, I wish you all awaken wonderful gifts to help build a bright future for humanity," Jalgan concluded. As his words ended, the magic circles lit up, their glow growing brighter as the ceremony began. Jubilation spread among the students¡ªuntil it was replaced by pain. Cries filled the air as the effects of the awakening drug took hold. Violent energies surrounding the students surged into their bodies, forcing their way to the pill. The process was agonizing, leaving many in a state of paralyzing weakness. Jeremy felt his organs scream in pain, but his muscles were too stunned to let him move or cry out. Yet what surprised him most was the boy in front of him. Dan sat hunched over, silent, his arms wrapped around his legs like a frightened child. ''Does he feel no pain?'' Jeremy wondered. He couldn''t have been more wrong. ''Eyes hurt¡­ pain¡­'' Dan thought, his mind barely able to process anything through the agony. Blood tears streamed from his eyes, hidden by his posture. But it can hide from the eyes of mortals, but it can''t hide from the machine. In the logistics room, a technician noticed an anomaly. "Sector G7 is reporting a violent rejection." he announced, causing the faces of officers from LOA to look at the screen with some worry. Rejection¡ªa phenomenon barely understood. It occurred when the body rejected awakening energies, causing catastrophic damage. The lucky ones died quickly. The unlucky ones suffered prolonged agony, their existence becoming a closely guarded secret of the LOA.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. "Find the individual and remove him before the students notice," the officer ordered. Rejected individuals were swiftly taken out of the awakening field to prevent unnecessary suffering. And following her order, it didn''t take long for a Returner, a hollow-eyed man with a ghostlike presence, to appear in the middle of the ceremony. Before Jeremy could even register his presence, the man scooped up Dan and disappeared into the void, reappearing moments later in the hospital. "Saved just in time," the Returner muttered, his gaze falling on Dan''s bleeding eyes. "It''s not a complete failure. Part of his body has accepted the awakening aura." He turned to the frozen staff, his voice sharp. "Don''t just stand there. Move. Others will arrive soon." With that, the hollow-eyed man vanished again, leaving the hospital staff to exhale in relief. "Principal Jalgan really went too far this time, bringing a calamity like him here," one nurse whispered. "Focus on the boy," the doctor snapped, silencing the gossip. "Run a test and confirm if he awakened any talent, however small." In this world, talents were graded from 1 to 9, with 1 being the weakest. These grades didn''t determine the specific ability a person awakened but rather their cultivation potential and which path¡ªPhysique, Spirit, or Mind¡ªthey should follow. These three paths formed the foundation of Pugilists, Spiritualists, and Mages, though the systems were more complex than that. "Nurse, bring the reader. Let''s check his talent before we send him to the ER," the doctor ordered. The test was simple. A blood sample and a scan quickly revealed the results. "The talent grade is 0/0/1... he''s a failure," the nurse reported, her voice a mix of relief and pity. "Send him to the ER. The rest of the kids will be arriving soon. Hopefully, none of them will be as injured as this one," the doctor said. "What about his ability? It could still be something useful," a male nurse suggested hesitantly. The doctor''s glare silenced him. "If you can wake him up and have him use it, go ahead. Otherwise, stop wasting time." The nurse lowered his head. "I... I apologize." Abilities, unlike talents, were harder to measure but equally important. A weak talent might doom someone to mediocrity, but a unique ability could still make them valuable. There had been cases before, like the woman who could turn her blood into any potion she drank. Her weak talent made her body unable to absorb the potions, limiting her growth. Yet she was protected like a treasure by a powerful consortium, her absurd ability alone granting her value. The pain was unbearable. Jeremy didn''t know what was happening around him, but his father''s warnings echoed faintly in his mind. Suddenly, a cold sensation washed over him, soothing the pain and replacing it with a surge of strength. "Huh?" Jeremy gasped as he regained clarity. He became the third person to wake from the ordeal, appearing almost unharmed. "Jeremy Reinhardt, come forward," a voice called out, breaking him from his daze. Jeremy looked around, confused but obedient. He walked to the invigilator, who scanned his face with a sharp, practiced efficiency. "Take this," the invigilator said, handing him a small token. "If you feel any discomfort, you can visit the doctors after your testing is done." The invigilator pointed toward an empty door across the room before dismissing him. Jeremy nodded and turned to leave, still distracted by the strange oddity he felt within him. He examined his arms, noticing they looked the same but somehow felt... different. On his way to the testing area, he noticed two other students moving in the same direction¡ªa girl he didn''t recognize and someone he did. ''Yydvin,'' Jeremy thought, his face tensing with worry as his gaze settled on the boy. Yydvin looked different now. Taller, leaner, and with a single horn protruding from his head, his presence exuded an intimidating confidence. "What happened to your body?" Jeremy asked cautiously. "It awakened its potential by abandoning mediocrity," Yydvin replied, his tone as arrogant as ever, but lighter now¡ªalmost as if a great burden had been lifted from him. "What about the fool you were with?" Yydvin asked mockingly, a sneer tugging at his lips. Jeremy flinched, guilt flashing across his face. For a moment, he''d completely forgotten about Dan. Yydvin smirked at Jeremy''s reaction, his voice dripping with disdain. "As I expected. Your kind only knows how to wear the face of kindness when others are watching." "Yydvin, there''s no need for such vitriol," Jeremy replied calmly, unwilling to rise to the provocation. "I made a mistake... I''ll look for him after I''m done testing." "Mistake, you say?" Yydvin began, clearly ready to needle Jeremy further. But before he could continue, the invigilator nearby shouted, his voice firm and commanding. "Students! Go to the testing area. Don''t make me repeat myself." Yydvin clicked his tongue but bowed to the invigilator in mock respect before moving on. Jeremy fumed silently for a moment before shaking his head, his gaze drifting back toward the crowd where he had been standing earlier. Among the sea of faces, Dan''s figure was nowhere to be found. "Hopefully, nothing bad happened to him," Jeremy murmured, guilt gnawing at him as he turned and entered the testing area. 1.01.3 The blinded agony. "It happened, didn''t it?" The woman who had been silently tracking Dan''s movements asked her maid, who had just received a startling report from spies embedded within the school. Her actions were dangerous¡ªrecklessly so. If discovered by the LOA, her background might protect her from severe repercussions, but she would still have to answer to both her father and the LOA. Such exposure could jeopardize her plans entirely. The success of her operation depended on secrecy. Dan had to remain hidden, unknown to the world. If the boy were discovered too early, it would ruin everything. He had to struggle, to grow without interference. Only then could humanity''s savior avoid the pitfalls she had seen in her visions. "Struggle makes a man," she mused silently, her expression hard. Her maid, though nodding in agreement, hesitated before speaking. "Miss, this operation of yours is too dangerous. One of our contacts just notified me that the Principal has called for the Null Knight to oversee security." At those words, the woman''s brow furrowed deeply. ''This is troublesome.'' There were few who didn''t understand the weight carried by that title. The Null Knight. A name synonymous with death and calamity. "Bringing such a monster to an auspicious event... no wonder." She knew there was only one man who bore that title. "There will need to be further precautions," she said, her voice colder now. "Inform our contacts in the infirmary to ensure the boy is cared for. After the LOA deems him unworthy of their attention, we will take him. No risks." Her tone left no room for debate. With someone like the Null Knight involved, she couldn''t afford even the slightest mistake. Her mission was already a partial success. Reports confirmed the boy named Dan had bled from his eyes during the awakening process. Combined with the ability he had awakened, it matched the descriptions she had seen in her visions of the future. There was no need to gamble further. "So, Miss, are we leaving now?" the maid asked tentatively. "Well, I am leaving," the woman replied sharply, her gaze narrowing. "But you will stay behind. Make sure no harm comes to the boy. You remember my earlier orders, don''t you?" The maid nodded. "I''ll be discreet at the hospital. I''ll make sure there''s no trace of our involvement." "Good," the woman said with finality. Her lips curved into a faint, almost patronizing smile as she clapped her hands lightly. "I look forward to hearing the story of your success." With that, she stood, her guards falling into formation as they exited the caf¨¦. She left a handful of men behind, along with her maid, who slumped in exhaustion as the weight of her task sank in. ''This lady will be the death of me,'' she thought bitterly.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Unbeknownst to the maid, a pair of eyes watched them from the shadows. These were no ordinary eyes¡ªdevoid of light, they seemed to absorb the very essence of the world around them. Even the faintest glimmers of illumination dared not escape their void. "Interesting," came a cold voice, the word drawn out like a whispered threat. The figure in the shadows vanished, reappearing moments later in the room where Dan lay unconscious. "The mighty hold interest in you," the voice murmured as the figure stepped closer to the boy''s bed. Outside, the ceremony continued. The testing was still in full swing, with no runners discovered yet. But it was only a matter of time before someone tried to escape¡ªan inevitability that would require the Null Knight''s intervention. Yet here he was, standing in the ward of a boy the LOA had already deemed a failure. "What do we have here?" the Null Knight asked, his voice cold and detached. He picked up the test results from the desk, scanning them briefly before setting them down again. Reaching out, his gloved hand brushed back Dan''s hair, revealing a long, jagged scar running across the boy''s head. "An ugly child with an ugly face¡­" he muttered, his tone void of emotion. His gaze lingered on the boy, a faint trace of curiosity flickering in his otherwise empty eyes. "Curious," he whispered, his hand hovering just above Dan''s forehead. "Fate seems eager to spin its threads around you. Why?" The Null Knight turned, pacing slowly around the room. His steps were silent, his presence suffocating. He paused, his gloved fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the desk, his eyes distant. "The strong bend fate to their will, but the weak... the weak are its playthings. And yet, sometimes, it is the weak who survive. Who endure. Who defy even gods." His gaze returned to the boy, his expression unreadable. "You should have died," he murmured. "By all rights, this world should have snuffed you out. And yet, here you are." For a moment, his gloved hand tightened into a fist before releasing. He leaned over Dan again, his empty eyes searching the boy''s bleeding face as if seeking answers. "An ugly child with an ugly fate," he repeated, his voice soft but cutting. "Yet... fate favors the unlikely, doesn''t it?" Straightening, he placed the report back on the desk with a deliberate motion. "So I will be curious some more," he said, his voice taking on an almost poetic cadence. "And I will not speak of this opportunity to your so-called owners." Turning to leave, his figure began to fade into the void. His parting words lingered in the air, chilling and cryptic: "Entertain me. I hope you do." The room fell silent again, but the weight of his presence remained. Even in his absence, the Null Knight''s words clung to the air like a lingering shadow. It was at this moment that the boy woke from his long, tormenting dream. His body jerked upright with unnatural force, and the first sound to escape his lips was not a word but a horrifying, primal scream. "Uaahhh!" The sound cut through the air like a jagged blade, rising into a blood-curdling crescendo before shattering into a pitiful, guttural wail. It was not the cry of a human¡ªit was something far more visceral, more raw, a sound born of pain too great to be contained. In the grip of this agony, his hands shot to his face, trembling violently as if guided by a force beyond comprehension. Before anyone could react, before the reality of what was happening could settle, his fingers dug deep into his own eyes. A sickening squelch filled the air, followed by the wet sound of tearing flesh. Blood streamed down his face in thick rivulets as the boy screamed again, his voice cracking into a hollow, broken echo of the first. And then silence. The boy fell back, his now sightless eyes staring blankly into the void. He had blinded himself, tearing away the very light he could never fully understand. The room seemed to hold its breath, heavy with the weight of what had just occurred, as though the very air mourned the violence of his awakening. 1.02.1 Kill the child? The accident in the ward didn''t go unnoticed. Dan''s tortured cries startled the nurses on duty, echoing through the halls and even scaring off some students who had harmed themselves experimenting with their newfound abilities. But Dan''s health wasn''t the main issue¡ªit was his very existence. "He blinded himself?" Principal Jalgan muttered, disbelief creeping into his voice as he scanned the report from the ward. His eyes narrowed, and his tone sharpened. "This boy... were there no nurses present?" It was absurd. Something this extreme happening during such a sensitive time? If the matter leaked, the consequences wouldn''t just fall on him¡ªit would implicate the entire Academy and even drag the LOA officers, who were occupied elsewhere, into the scandal. "He was under sedatives," one of the staff weakly explained. "He wasn''t supposed to wake up." Jalgan''s lips tightened. It was a flimsy excuse, but there wasn''t much that could be done now. Frustration mounted as he flipped through Dan''s file. Then his expression shifted, lightening faintly. "An orphan..." he murmured, his voice contemplative. "This is good. Hiding him won''t be an issue." As he read deeper into Dan''s details, his mood eased further. ''A boy with mental development issues... no friends, no connections. It should be easier to keep this under wraps.'' Jalgan wasn''t being entirely inhuman. The existence of the rejection phenomenon had to be kept secret at all costs. Its exposure could terrify ordinary students and destabilize the entire awakening process. Moreover, even after enduring rejection, Dan''s body had somehow awakened an ability¡ªalbeit at a devastating cost. Reports mentioned heightened brain activity right before Dan blinded himself. ''Does it correlate to his sight?'' Jalgan wondered before shaking his head in irritation. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp voice. "Are you insane? Bringing that calamity here?" Sarina Red, the head officer of the LOA, entered the room with an air of authority. She slammed her gloves onto Jalgan''s desk, her piercing eyes fixed on him. "How could you even employ him to begin with?" Sarina had just returned from dealing with hawks circling the Academy¡ªopportunistic predators watching for potential runners to exploit. Thanks to the intervention of Returners, particularly the Calamity Knight, she had managed to neutralize the threat. But her delayed arrival left her fuming over the chaos she now faced. "This fool dared to bring that monster into a school," she thought bitterly. Jalgan barely registered her outburst, his mind still half-occupied with Dan''s case. "Oh... about that," he started distractedly before turning to her. "I didn''t go to him. He came to me, offering his support." "And you allowed it? Knowing full well the nature of that man?" Sarina''s voice rose, her disbelief palpable. Jalgan blinked, the clarity of her accusation forcing him to reevaluate his decision. "Even the LOA falls for such rumors?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. Sarina''s jaw tightened. She couldn''t respond openly. The LOA had no official position on the Calamity Knight, but among those who had witnessed his actions firsthand, his reputation was undeniable. He was a monster who abandoned the Maker''s Domain after reaching the sixth test¡ªthe highest point any human had ever achieved.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. He hadn''t left because of failure. Survivors who followed in his footsteps revealed the truth. ''So many have fallen because of him.'' The Calamity Knight didn''t just bring disaster; he embodied it. Every task he undertook, every battle he joined, ended with him as the lone survivor, leaving behind ruin and corruption. His very presence was a plague. Sarina had witnessed this corruption personally¡ªa man melting under the faintest exposure to Null''s aura. "Those rumors are based on truth," she said curtly. "And yet, has he caused any problems since returning?" Jalgan countered. "All I see is him dealing with fractures and donating what he earns to orphanages and schools, including ours." Jalgan''s voice grew firm, his loyalty to the Calamity Knight clear. "I don''t care what he did in that cursed domain. What matters to me is what he''s doing now." Sarina opened her mouth to retort but closed it again. She couldn''t argue. LOA''s hands were tied when it came to the Calamity Knight. As long as he avoided committing inhuman crimes, he was free to act. "Then forget it," she muttered, brushing off the topic. There were things she couldn''t reveal to Jalgan, a civilian, without risking even greater complications. Jalgan sighed, relieved to drop the matter. Though he had faced significant pushback from the Academy''s faculty about hiring Null, he had stood by his decision. Sarina''s gaze shifted to the papers Jalgan had been reading. "What''s that?" she asked, gesturing toward them. Jalgan hesitated before answering. "It''s about the boy who suffered rejection." Sarina''s face darkened. "Offer him money to keep quiet, like always," she said bluntly. LOA already had systems in place for handling rejection cases¡ªprograms designed to ensure victims like Dan never spoke of their experiences. Jalgan frowned. "That was the plan until reports came in from the ward, and I reviewed his background." "What happened in the ward?" Sarina pressed. "He... poked his eyes out," Jalgan said reluctantly. Sarina raised an eyebrow. "Side effects of his awakening?" "His ability overwhelmed his senses. In confusion, he... stabbed his thumbs into his eyes," Jalgan clarified grimly, his voice heavy. Sarina scanned Dan''s file, her interest piqued by its contents. "His mother shot him, then herself?" It was a harrowing story. Dan''s father had died in an accident, and his grief-stricken mother had attempted a double suicide, shooting her son before turning the gun on herself. Against all odds, Dan survived, even with half his brain destroyed. His mother hadn''t been so fortunate. "There''s no one behind this boy?" Sarina asked, her eyes narrowing. Jalgan shook his head. Dan was a temporary admission, allowed into the Academy solely for the awakening ceremony. Before that, he had been living in an orphanage. "Then you know what needs to be done," Sarina said coldly. Jalgan''s expression twisted. "You''re not suggesting¡ª" "Kill him?" Sarina interrupted. "That''s crude. I prefer the term ''removing a burden.''" She justified her stance with cold logic. Dan''s talents were abysmal¡ª0/0/1. He lacked any meaningful potential. Keeping him alive would only drain resources while prolonging his suffering. A far cry from even the lowest of the awakeners, who at least have ¡ª1/1/1 in their potential,with at least 3 in any of the talent required if they hope for any growth in the future. "This is too cold, even for me," Jalgan said firmly, washing his hands of the matter. "He can live in a government hospital. Others have done so before." "And who pays for that?" Sarina retorted. "He''s not a boy anymore¡ªhe''s becoming a man. A blind, brain-damaged man who will only burden the system." Jalgan''s heart rebelled against the practicality of her words. As an educator, he couldn''t condone harming a child, no matter how serious the circumstances were. "Then think of it this way," Sarina said, her voice low and dangerous. "If LOA denies the existence of rejection phenomena and its... side effects, the Academy will bear the blame. That means you and your staff will take the fall." Jalgan clenched his fists, the weight of her threat suffocating. The debate was interrupted by a logistics officer entering the room with a report. "Jeremy? The one with the regenerative ability? He''s asking questions about the boy." Jalgan''s expression shifted, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes. "So someone will ask questions if the boy disappears?" He smiled, the frustration of moments ago melting into relief. Sarina''s frown deepened, but Jalgan had already made up his mind. 1.02.2 The fool will go with you. When Jeremy didn''t see Dan immediately after the ceremony, he wasn''t particularly worried. The school grounds were tightly guarded, and every student was accounted for using the badges pinned to their shirts. Any disappearance or anomaly would be flagged by the faculty almost immediately. Jeremy didn''t think much of it. After all, he had expected to see Dan after the testing was over, assuming the boy had simply been delayed. But as time passed, that expectation faded. "Still not here? Is everything fine?" Jeremy muttered to himself, recalling how some students had been sent to the infirmary after prematurely experimenting with their abilities. Considering Dan''s simple and impulsive nature, it wouldn''t have been surprising if he''d ended up there too. Jeremy made up his mind. He would visit the ward after his testing was complete. "---7/3/2. This... this is the highest talent score of this batch. Congratulations, Jeremy Reinhardt," announced the staff overseeing the testing machine. Jeremy froze, his thoughts momentarily derailed by the result. "So high?" he murmured, stunned. "You should stay here," one of the staff members suggested, their tone both congratulatory and serious. "For someone with your talent, it''s likely your awakened ability is just as remarkable. You''ll have eyes on you from now on." Jeremy noticed the weight of those words as the gazes around him shifted. The staff, and even the nearby guards, had already started to scrutinize him. His talent had clearly attracted attention. His thoughts didn''t linger on it for long, however, as another announcement echoed nearby: "---3/4/6. Congratulations to Yydvin Lass. Your score is among the highest this year..." Jeremy noted the result but quickly realized something important: while Yydvin''s score was high, it still fell below his own. It was a distinction Jeremy hadn''t initially considered but one that the world around them would not ignore. Talent rankings weren''t as simple as numbers. Though Jeremy and Yydvin''s totals were nearly identical, the distribution mattered. Every three levels in talent marked a new realm of power. Even if Yydvin achieved 6/6/6 across all ranks, he would still lag behind Jeremy''s 7/1/1 score. This disparity was not lost on Yydvin, whose annoyance was thinly veiled. "You''ve just got a better starting point," Yydvin said coolly, his voice tinged with frustration. "Appreciate it while you can." Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away. Jeremy sighed, shaking his head. ''This guy... I can''t even get angry at him.'' Jeremy''s own testing resumed, and soon, the nature of his awakened ability was revealed. "Regeneration?" he said aloud, reading the report in disbelief. "Indeed, Jeremy. It seems your father''s endurance evolved further in you, manifesting as regeneration," one of the staff explained. Jeremy''s father was a renowned pugilist, famous for his unmatched endurance. He could fight for days, even with grievous injuries, and was often described as a perpetual motion machine. But regeneration? That was something far beyond even his father''s capabilities. ''I can finally join the Immortal Corps.'' The thought struck Jeremy like a bolt of lightning. The Immortal Corps, also known as the Monster Army, was humanity''s most elite force. Their sacrificial tactics used forbidden techniques without hesitation, moves that most fighters reserved for their last stand. To even qualify for this group, regeneration was the bare minimum requirement. ''Enough, this is enough.'' Jeremy clenched his fists, his resolve sharpening. Abilities, unlike talents, were typically kept secret. It was a matter of strategy and security. Only the LOA, or the awakened individuals themselves, could decide to reveal them publicly. "Hey, Jeremy! I heard you got the highest talent score in the batch!" Jeremy was pulled from his thoughts by the familiar voices of his classmates. They crowded around him, their curiosity evident. The group''s conversation turned lively as they shared their own scores. Some beamed with pride, thrilled to have scored a 3 in any category, while others were noticeably quieter, their faces shadowed with disappointment.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Jeremy, ever the good-natured soul, tried to lighten the mood. He shifted the conversation to safer topics, like rumors about runners, which successfully lifted his friends'' spirits. "Oh, I''ve got a better story," one student chimed in, his eyes alight with excitement. "This is what Reshma told me after she froze her finger and had to go to the infirmary. While she was there, there was this scream¡ªloud enough to shake everyone, even the doctors. They all rushed toward it, thinking a murder had happened!" "Who was it?" another student asked eagerly. "Reshma didn''t find out," the boy replied with a shrug. "It was probably someone from another class. Nobody from our group is missing." The story seemed unimportant to most of the group, but for Jeremy, it triggered a sinking feeling. He hadn''t seen Dan. He hadn''t even heard anything about him. "You guys stay here. I''ll be back in a minute," Jeremy said abruptly, leaving the group and heading straight for the infirmary. When he arrived, everything appeared normal. Nurses bustled about, and the atmosphere seemed calm. "Excuse me," Jeremy approached a nurse, his voice steady but insistent. "I''m looking for a boy named Dan." The nurse hesitated, her hand hovering over the records. She glanced at Jeremy, then back at the file, before stuttering, "Uh... there''s no one by that name here." Her lie was glaringly obvious. Jeremy''s brow furrowed. "Not here? I brought him to the awakening venue myself. He stood right beside me. How can you say there''s no record of him?" His voice grew sharper, his concern mounting. "I''m just... I''m just reading what''s on the file," the nurse stammered, avoiding his gaze. Jeremy''s frustration boiled over. "Are you telling me that even with tight security, a mentally challenged kid like him managed to disappear? Or are you hiding him for some reason?" The nurse froze, unsure of how to respond. Jeremy pressed on, his voice unwavering. "I know about the screams. Tell me who it was. What happened to that student?" The nurse''s resolve crumbled. She turned to a nearby doctor, silently pleading for help. The doctor, aware of Jeremy''s identity and status, frowned deeply. ''This is troublesome,'' he thought, debating how to handle the situation. "I''ll inform the higher-ups," the doctor finally said, motioning for Jeremy to wait. Jeremy didn''t realize it yet, but his questions had reached the ears of both Principal Jalgan and Officer Sarina. Jeremy''s persistence had become a thorn in Sarina''s side, and Jalgan could no longer ignore the growing tension. "Someone like him is asking for Dan. Are you going to ignore it?" Jalgan''s voice was sharp, his words laced with frustration. The moral spat between him and Sarina had reached a boiling point. "The world may be falling apart, but that doesn''t mean we have to become a pack of beasts." Sarina''s response was cold and calculated. "You know the answer already," she said, her tone void of emotion. She understood all too well that once questions were asked, problems would inevitably follow. Bribing Jeremy into silence wasn''t an option. His father wasn''t just anyone¡ªhe was the master of the Ironsight Mercenary Corps. Money was of little consequence to their family. That left Sarina with one alternative: diplomacy, tempered with veiled coercion. "Call him in," she ordered. "I''ll see to it that this drama doesn''t escalate further." Jalgan sighed heavily, unwilling but ultimately resigned. Jeremy was allowed deeper into the premises, where the truth awaited him. As for why he wasn''t taken directly to Dan? That was obvious. No one could predict how Jeremy might react upon seeing the boy''s current state, and any outburst could complicate matters further. ''Hopefully, he''s fine,'' Jeremy prayed silently as he stepped into the office where the grim discussion about Dan''s fate was already underway. What followed was a revelation that left Jeremy reeling. He learned of the harrowing details surrounding the awakening ceremony¡ªthe risks, the dangers, and the irreversible damage it had inflicted on Dan. Jeremy''s face twisted in anguish. "What... how? Why was someone like him even allowed to go through awakening?" His voice cracked as he spoke, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. He paused, memories of Yydvin''s arrogant words flashing through his mind. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Jeremy couldn''t help but admit the truth: ''Yydvin was right.'' Sarina''s calm, measured tone cut through the silence. "You should understand better than anyone, Jeremy. The dangers that loom on our borders¡ªAustralia wasn''t the first to fall, and it won''t be the last. If we limit ourselves with the outdated morals of the old world, humanity won''t survive. Even a fool has a part to play." Her words hit like a hammer, pragmatic and merciless. "You understand why I''m telling you this, don''t you, Jeremy?" she asked, her gaze sharp and unyielding. Jeremy was silent for a moment, his thoughts swirling in chaos. Finally, he turned to Jalgan. "Sir, what will happen to Dan? He has nobody, and with him coming of age, he''ll be kicked out of the orphanage soon. At the very least, the government should take responsibility for what it''s done to him. Shouldn''t they?" Jalgan''s expression darkened. He shook his head. "Resources are reserved for those more deserving, Jeremy. The best we can do is treat him now and release him when he''s capable of walking again." "This is cruel," Jeremy whispered, his voice trembling. "Inhuman, even..." "Inhuman?" Sarina''s voice was sharp. "There are thousands of cases like his in the world. Wake up, Jeremy. Or better yet, if you''re so unwilling to face reality, take responsibility for him yourself. As long as you don''t breathe a word of what happened here, we''ll give you full authority to handle the boy as you see fit." Jeremy''s eyes widened slightly at her words. For a moment, he recalled Yydvin''s mocking face. ''He was right,'' Jeremy thought bitterly. ''I shouldn''t have intervened then.'' But it was too late for regret. The least he could do now was make amends. Jeremy''s expression hardened, resolve replacing hesitation. "I''ll take him," he said firmly. "Once the day is over, I''ll request a transfer of Dan to my family. We''ll take care of him." 1.02.3 An offer you can鈥檛 refuse. Words couldn''t begin to describe the guilt Jeremy felt at this moment. What he had thought was a righteous act had only brought misery to an already disadvantaged boy. It was this crushing guilt that drove him to accept Sarina''s offer. It wasn''t as though he couldn''t afford to take care of Dan. With the wealth his family possessed, the burden was negligible. Admitting Dan into the hospital run by his father''s mercenary guild would also significantly lower the costs. Principal Jalgan, seeing Jeremy''s resolve, nodded approvingly. "You''re doing the right thing, Jeremy," he said, his tone calm and encouraging. "What''s done is done. Don''t let it weigh you down. Focus on the future." He then added with a congratulatory smile, "And let me remind you¡ªit''s not every day our school has someone as talented as you graduate from here." Sarina, satisfied that the matter was now resolved, also offered her congratulations. She engaged Jeremy in small talk, offering advice on the paths he should pursue in the future. But before leaving, her tone turned sharp as she gave him a subtle warning. "And one more thing: don''t even think about joining some shady organization while hiding from us. You know what happens to those who try, don''t you?" Her words were pointed, though delivered with a smile. Jeremy responded with a dry, painful laugh. His heart still hadn''t recovered from what he had learned about Dan, and he couldn''t muster the energy to engage in Sarina''s banter. More than anything, he wanted to meet Dan¡ªto see him, to apologize, to make amends. But for now, he had been denied that chance. It wasn''t wise to let Jeremy see Dan in his current state, fresh wounds and all. The risk of an emotional outburst or rash actions was too high. Instead, they planned to let some time pass, allowing Dan''s wounds to heal and Jeremy''s guilt to subside before they reunited. And so, a week later, when Dan''s condition had stabilized, Jeremy finally returned home. The Reinhardt family welcomed him with open arms, organizing a grand celebration in his honor. Friends, family, and influential allies of his father gathered to acknowledge the remarkable talent Jeremy had displayed during the awakening ceremony. For the Reinhardt family, this was more than just a party¡ªit was a statement. They were introducing the world to the genius in their ranks, solidifying their status and forging new connections. Amid the festivities, Jeremy found himself momentarily distracted. The warmth of his family and friends did help him forget Dan, if only for fleeting moments. But deep down, he couldn''t shake the promise he had made to Sarina. Two weeks later, just as Jeremy was preparing to begin his training as a Warrior, a visitor arrived at his home. The woman wore formal office attire and carried herself with a professional air. Under normal circumstances, Jeremy might have ignored someone like her. But this time, he couldn''t. "The Boman Foundation should already be aware of my plans," Jeremy stated curtly, setting the record straight before the woman could even begin her pitch. "I have no intention of joining any guild." His aspirations were no secret. Jeremy''s dream of joining the Immortal Corps¡ªan elite force stationed within the Maker''s Domain¡ªwas well-known among his peers and the organizations vying for his talent.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The woman, introducing herself as Kesa Watson, smiled politely. She didn''t seem fazed by Jeremy''s sharp tone. "Of course, we''re aware," Kesa replied smoothly. "That''s precisely why we''re not here to recruit you into a guild." Kesa explained that she was a former climber of the Maker''s Domain, though her career had ended prematurely after failing to overcome the third floor. She had since retired and joined the Boman Foundation, an influential organization focused on fostering talent. "But that doesn''t mean we can''t establish a mutually beneficial relationship," Kesa continued, sliding a file toward Jeremy. "Our Talent Department is very optimistic about you. We''d like to sponsor your training for the Maker''s Domain, providing you with both knowledge and techniques used by the Immortal Corps themselves. It will save you precious time when you enter that place." Jeremy''s curiosity was piqued, though he maintained his skepticism. The techniques of the Immortal Corps were legendary, rumored to enhance regenerative abilities to the point where practitioners could regenerate their entire bodies from a single cell. Such an offer sounded too good to be true. "I don''t believe this would be offered to me without a price," Jeremy said, his tone cautious. Years of living under his father''s watchful eye had taught him to see through veiled intentions. "Of course," Kesa admitted without hesitation. "There are two conditions to this sponsorship." She handed Jeremy a contract, and he began to read. "The first condition is a support contract," Kesa explained. "After a maximum of thirty years in the Maker''s Domain, you must return to Earth, regardless of your achievements there." Jeremy frowned. Thirty years seemed harsh, especially considering that time within the Maker''s Domain moved faster. What felt like thirty years on Earth could be the equivalent of over a century in that otherworldly place. "All I need to do is return? There''s no clause about providing special advantages to your organization or completing specific tasks?" Jeremy asked, finding the simplicity of the condition suspicious. "This clause is non-negotiable," Kesa replied firmly. Jeremy mulled it over but decided to hold his final judgment until he saw the second condition. "What''s the other one?" he asked. Kesa handed him a second, smaller contract. Jeremy''s eyes scanned the document, and his expression twisted with confusion. "Why him? How do you even know about him?" The mention of Dan''s name sent a wave of anger through Jeremy. To him, this felt like a hostage situation¡ªa ploy to exploit someone vulnerable. His voice rose as he glared at Kesa. "Even if your foundation is stronger than our mercenary guild, that doesn''t mean I''ll take this kind of threat lightly!" But Kesa remained calm, her smile unwavering. "I expected such a reaction," she said coolly. "But you misunderstand. Dan is important to us, yes, but this isn''t about threatening you. If anything, we''re relieved you took him from the LOA before we had to intervene." Her words made Jeremy pause. ''What do they want with Dan?'' he wondered, his suspicion deepening. "We don''t want the LOA to know we''re interested in him," Kesa continued. "Your involvement has made that possible. That''s why we''re offering you this sponsorship in exchange for Dan." Jeremy''s mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. "You think he has some kind of rare ability, don''t you?" Jeremy asked, narrowing his eyes. Kesa''s expression softened. "We see potential in him¡ªpotential that others have overlooked." She reassured Jeremy that the Boman Foundation had no intention of harming Dan. If Jeremy accepted their offer, they would ensure Dan received the best care possible, including treatments to restore his sight and improve his cognitive functions. "You can visit him whenever you like while you''re still on Earth," Kesa said. "And even after you leave for the Maker''s Domain, you can assign someone to keep an eye on him." Jeremy''s thoughts were in turmoil. He couldn''t shake the feeling that there was more to this than Kesa was letting on. "I''ll need time to think," Jeremy finally said. Kesa nodded. "Take all the time you need," she said, rising to leave. Elsewhere¡­ "Mistress, it seems the boy has been enticed by our offer. It won''t be long before he accepts," Kesa reported through her communicator. ¡ª "Good. It seems my prayer worked. The boy named Dan will soon be with us. Be ready to run diagnostics the moment he arrives." "The doctors are already on standby, Mistress. You''ll have a full report within the hour." ¡ª "I hope you don''t disappoint me this time." Kesa wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. "I won''t, Mistress," she said, bowing to the voice on the other end. "And don''t worry¡ªI plan to be your maid for decades to come." She ended the call with a shaky breath. ''I feel like I''m losing a year of my life every time I speak to her.'' 1.02.4 He shouldnt be alive. "Dad, there''s something I need to consult you about." Jeremy spoke into the phone, his voice laced with a rare seriousness as he relayed the details of his encounter with the representative from the Boman Foundation. He explained their generous offer, their promised sponsorship, and the conditions they had placed before him. On the other end of the call, the man known for his towering presence¡ªhis sheer physicality making him seem almost seven meters tall in Jeremy''s childhood memories¡ªlistened with mild intrigue. "I stopped at the fourth floor," his father mused after a thoughtful pause, his deep voice carrying the weight of experience. "And when I remained there, my lack of knowledge made me suffer. A lot." His tone turned contemplative as he shared fragments of his past struggles, the unseen battles that had worn him down in the Maker''s Domain. The knowledge gap had cost him dearly. "This offer¡­ it''s too good to ignore." Jeremy knew what was coming next, the unspoken question hanging between them. "But what about Dan?" There was silence for a brief moment before his father exhaled, his tone steady yet firm. "The boy¡­ The Bomans aren''t ones to lie so easily. They''ve risen to their position by earning trust, and trust isn''t something gained without effort." Trust was a fragile currency¡ªhard-earned yet easily squandered. And in a world locked in constant war, a dependable ally was worth more than gold. The Boman Foundation, standing as a neutral powerhouse, focused almost exclusively on developing weapons of war and advancing technology for the battlefield. Their neutrality and contributions to both Earth''s forces and those who entered the Maker''s Domain had cemented their reputation as an entity beyond politics¡ªbeyond mere corporations. Their goodwill extended far and wide, and to Jeremy''s father, that meant one thing: "You can enjoy all the benefits of being their seed without truly giving anything in return. It''s easy to see how much value they place on this friend of yours." His father''s voice carried the weight of certainty. "So I say¡­ give him to them. They''ve already promised not to harm him. They''re even giving you visitation rights. They won''t go back on their word." Jeremy remained silent, absorbing his father''s words. These dealings weren''t new to the older man. He had seen this play out time and time again¡ªwhere underground arrangements were made to secure talent before their full potential was even realized. It was a well-known secret that even the LOA, for all its posturing, wasn''t immune to such corruption. The LOA played its role in preventing runners, but in reality, its agents were often the very ones facilitating discreet poaching operations. A single bribe was enough to turn an eye away, to let a newly awakened slip through unseen. Money still held an unbreakable grip over the world. Jeremy thought back to Sarina''s veiled threat. The way she had treated Dan. The way the world treated Dan. How rotten could this world truly be? After a long breath, Jeremy nodded to himself. "I understand, Dad. I''ll accept their offer." Elsewhere, beneath the dazzling chandeliers of an opulent ballroom, a girl who had seen the future moved gracefully through a sea of young, ambitious elites. Shirley stood adorned in an elegant gown, attending a gathering of the most promising talents¡ªthe very individuals heralded as the future of the Federation. "Miss Shirley, I never expected to find you here today," came the smooth voice of a young man, his approach accompanied by a small entourage of equally notable figures. Among them were several who bore visible mutations¡ªsubtle yet unmistakable marks of their awakened abilities. Once, such physical changes had been seen as monstrous. Now, they were badges of prestige. "If I had known, I would''ve arranged a practice arena for your entertainment," he jested. The young man was Gehmat Lessan, a member of a renowned Mage family, their name carrying weight as both high-ranking shareholders of the Boman Foundation and master crafters of Magecraft Firearms. More accurately, they were the ones responsible for allowing the Boman Foundation access to their rune-based enchanting techniques, taking a lucrative share of the Foundation''s profits in return. Shirley could not afford to ignore him. "Stop teasing me for my childish mistakes," Shirley replied smoothly, her lips curving into a faint smile. "You should know how my brothers are. For me, that was just normal."Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. There was history between them¡ªone Shirley did not mind entertaining, though she was well aware of Gehmat''s intentions. But unlike others who harbored similar desires, his were harmless, nothing beyond simple admiration. She knew how these gatherings worked. Every pair of eyes carried an agenda. But this wasn''t why she was here. "Gehmat," Shirley said suddenly, shifting the conversation, "now that you''re here, you should meet my friend Dana. She''s a classmate of mine." She gestured toward a young woman standing beside her¡ªsomeone who seemed just a little too out of place among the extravagance. Dana hesitated briefly before stepping forward, offering a polite yet somewhat awkward greeting. Gehmat raised a brow in mild surprise, taking a moment to assess Dana before shifting into small talk. The conversation meandered until it landed on a subject that made Shirley''s stomach tighten. "Have you heard? The Calamity Knight is in the city." A subtle chill ran through her, though she kept her expression neutral. She wanted to leave. Immediately. But she couldn''t. She had come here under her father''s orders. Her purpose was to seek out promising seeds¡ªfuture assets, just as she had done before. But the truth was, she had no patience for this breed of talent. Most of these so-called elites would one day be chosen by the Maker''s Domain, and once that happened, they would never return. Not because they had died. No, they left by choice. They chose to abandon Earth, turning their backs on their homeland because the struggles here were too great, too inconvenient. Shirley had no love for those kinds of people. "You don''t look well. Should we leave?" Dana asked, shifting uncomfortably in her elegant dress. Shirley turned to her with a smirk. "Speaking of which, why are you being so polite here? Where''s the Dana who used to twist my ear whenever I annoyed her?" Dana sighed. "You know I''m not in my element. These people¡­ they could ruin my life if they felt like it." She glanced around the room, feeling small. This wasn''t just about wealth¡ªit was about influence. The conversations around them revolved around subjects she had no business discussing. And the amount of money they boasted about burning through in a single day was enough to crush the dreams of most people she knew. Shirley chuckled. "You know, even I''m capable of that." Dana blinked in mild surprise before nodding. "I guess¡­ I''m just too used to your commoner side." Shirley had entered college disguised as a commoner''s child, living in a shared dorm with Dana. It was there that their friendship had taken root, nurtured by the simplicity of shared struggles. "Hah, too much faith in little old me," Shirley mused, though her smile softened. "But I''ll take that as a compliment." Before she could continue, her phone buzzed. Her expression shifted as she read the message, her demeanor turning unreadable. "Something happened?" Dana asked, noting Shirley''s silence. Shirley exhaled. "Something good." With that, she rose from her seat. "I''ll be leaving the party." Dana frowned. "Then I''ll come with you. There''s no one here I know anyway." Shirley shook her head. "No, stay. Get used to this environment. Once you''re employed by my father, you''ll be dealing with these people a lot more." Dana hesitated, clearly unwilling to be left alone, but before she could protest, Shirley was already gone. "This is¡­ fascinating." The doctor leaned forward, eyes narrowing at the intricate scans displayed before him. The glowing projections painted a stark image¡ªa brain riddled with damage, a body that should not be functioning. "Extensive cerebral trauma. Severe neural degradation. And yet, he''s capable of walking¡­ even forming words?" His voice carried a mix of intrigue and disbelief as he tapped the edge of the glowing interface, cycling through different views of the report. The boy defied medical logic. Others in the room murmured in agreement, their collective curiosity piqued as they pored over the data. They were gathered in a facility hidden from public knowledge¡ªa classified sector of the Boman Foundation, known only to those ranking high enough within its hierarchy. "I don''t understand it either," another doctor muttered, rubbing his temples. "By all accounts, this boy shouldn''t even be alive." The technology at their disposal allowed them to reconstruct the full extent of the damage Dan had sustained. Half of his brain was atrophied beyond function. His neural pathways had adapted in unnatural ways, rerouting signals in erratic patterns that should have rendered him no more than a husk. And yet¡­ The boy lived. The boy spoke. Even now, as he lay unconscious before them, his fingers twitched¡ªhis body refusing to surrender to its supposed limitations. One of the younger female doctors, standing slightly apart from the group, frowned as she studied the data. "¡­Sir, isn''t it inhumane to operate on him?" she finally spoke, her voice hesitant. "His body is fragile. I don''t think he would even survive most of our procedures." Her words carried weight. Dan wasn''t like the enhanced soldiers they normally worked on. His body lacked the necessary resilience¡ªthe sheer vitality needed to endure the extreme augmentation processes they specialized in. Had he been stronger, they could have rebuilt him. They had technology capable of brain implants that enhanced cognitive processing, of neural augments that could replace damaged tissue, and even synthetic spines for warriors who had suffered battlefield injuries. But Dan¡­ Dan was nothing but a fragile mortal, one that could be snuffed out by the lightest miscalculation. The head doctor sighed, rubbing his chin. "We''ll have to find another way. High-quality potions are out of the question¡ªhis body would disintegrate from the surge of vitality alone." Despite the grim reality, their orders remained unchanged. The higherups had explicitly requested that this boy be brought to full cognitive function. How, exactly, they would accomplish that was still an open question. Just as their discussion was reaching an impasse, a soldier entered the room, his boots clicking sharply against the floor. "Sir, an update has arrived." His posture was rigid, his tone clipped and professional. "Miss Kesa has ordered all procedures to be placed on hold. A visitor is expected to arrive soon." The air in the room shifted slightly. The doctors exchanged glances. "¡­Who is it?" one of them asked. The soldier''s face remained unreadable as he responded. "That information is classified." And then, as if to punctuate his words, the facility''s overhead lights shifted to a deep, warning red. A metallic voice rang out through the intercom, cold and absolute. "Lockdown protocol initiated." The entire facility went silent. There were few moments when the Boman Foundation sealed off an entire sector. And every time it happened¡ªit was never without reason. 1.02.5 Cut it off. Shirley arrived at the facility the moment she confirmed Dan had been successfully acquired. This task¡ªinsignificant to others¡ªwas of utmost importance to her, but because of that very fact, her maid, Kesa, had taken extra precautions to ensure no word of it reached the outside world. Secrecy took time. Even with all of Kesa''s efforts, she had only relayed the information after she was certain Dan had been transported safely, without complications or leaks. Still, Shirley was taken aback. Years. Years of waiting. Years of planning. And finally¡ªfinally, a spark of progress. "I have him." The words echoed in her mind as she walked, each step carrying the weight of her ambitions. Dan''s condition was far worse than she had anticipated, but as long as he could be salvaged, it didn''t matter. This time, he would awaken far earlier. This time, he would fight for the future before it was too late. That thought hardened her resolve as she entered the research hall, where the gathered doctors stiffened upon seeing her. They did not bow immediately, nor did they smile. They stood rigid, more like automatons than men, as if her presence alone had drained the warmth from the room. The one to break the silence was the head doctor, Mister Vyaas. "Miss Shirley," he greeted her with a shallow bow, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple. "It is a pleasure to meet you." ''It''s her.'' The thought passed through his mind like a whisper of dread. For years now, Shirley had been a force of chaos within their research divisions. She had cut funding, scrapped entire projects, deemed invaluable talents as waste¡ªall on a whim, all without hesitation. She made abrupt, ruthless decisions, never caring whether those projects had reached even the prototype stage. To her, if an idea was not immediately efficient, it did not deserve to exist. And to these researchers¡ªthese men and women who had devoted their lives to their fields¡ªshe was a demon in human skin. There was only one reason someone like her had come here. ''Is she here for the boy?'' Several doctors instinctively glanced toward the operation theater. A quiet, desperate hope stirred among them¡ªmaybe, just maybe, she wouldn''t notice. Maybe she wouldn''t see the frail child lying there, suspended between life and death. Maybe she wouldn''t ruin this, too. But what happened next defied every expectation. "You should have diagnosed the boy by now." Her voice was smooth, cold, cutting through the air with an authority that made their hearts clench. "So tell me¡ªwhat are your ideas? How can you fix him? Or at the very least¡­ make him capable of proper speech." Silence. For a moment, they simply stared at her, confused. This¡­ was her doing? She was the one who sent him here? Her? The woman who discarded lives and futures so easily? "¡­You?" One of the researchers hesitated before asking the question. Shirley did not hide it. She nodded without hesitation. She did not owe them explanations. These doctors¡ªher father''s dogs¡ªwere bound by contracts so unforgiving that even speaking a single word about what transpired in this facility to their own families would result in permanent consequences. "¡­Is there a problem?"If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Shirley''s voice did not carry curiosity or concern. It was a simple statement, but one that carried the full weight of her authority. Her true self emerged here¡ªnot the smiling aristocrat, not the amiable young woman her friends knew. Here, she was in control. And when Shirley was in control, she did as she pleased. Because, in the end, it was all for the greater good. "No, Miss," Vyaas answered quickly, his tone carefully neutral. "We were simply¡­ curious." Their compliance was instinctive. For them, Shirley was a demon. A demon who had, for some reason, ordered them to save this child. But the boy''s condition¡­ Saving him was a miracle they did not possess. Vyaas exchanged glances with his team. ''We should just tell her. If she wants to kill us, so be it.'' And so, after a pause, the lead doctor spoke. He outlined everything. The extent of Dan''s damage. The impossibility of a full recovery. The fact that even with all of their advancements, the chance of survival was near zero. "This is one of the most advanced facilities on the planet," Shirley said, voice laced with disappointment. "And you''re telling me that none of you can do a thing?" "It''s not that we can''t." Vyaas exhaled, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "It''s that the chances of survival are¡­ lower than you might expect." He hesitated before adding, "It is, in my professional opinion, virtually impossible." "If his body were stronger, we could take some risks. But as he is now, even the simplest augmentation could kill him outright." Shirley''s fingers curled slightly. "That can''t be," she murmured. She knew for a fact that Dan could withstand it. He had endured worse. In the future, when his brain¡ªwhat was left of it¡ªwas forcibly integrated into a mech, when he was stripped of his humanity and rebuilt into something more¡­ he survived. And if he had survived that, then he could survive this. He had to. Yet here, in the most advanced research facility on Earth, they were washing their hands of him. Shirley''s nails dug into her palm. Then¡ª "The technology still has limits." A different researcher spoke this time. "In a decade, perhaps two, we might be able to achieve a full recovery." "But at present, we lack the means¡­ unless you are willing to take certain risks." Silence. For the first time, Shirley considered the possibility that the world was still too primitive. The future she had glimpsed was not built overnight. It took years before the Mechs came into fashion, years before the life support system was so advanced that it could sustain a mind for years without any complications. Which made Shirley reconsider her goals. The world didn''t end in one day, it took many years of constant regression and deterioration of humans which was led by hidden alien parties slowly corroding human infrastructure for humanity to fall. She could not afford to wait. She needed Dan. She needed his gift¡ªhis curse¡ªhis only ability that could unmask the enemies hiding in the shadows. And she needed it now. Any delay would only make her struggle harder in the years to come. So, she compromised. "¡­Then forget his body," she said, voice colder than before. "Take whatever money you need, just fix his mind." The doctors stiffened. Fix his mind. To what extent? "At least to the level of a child," Shirley clarified. "Seven, maybe eight years old." A three-year-old could not practice the path of transcendence. But an eight-year-old could. "That¡­ may be possible," Vyaas admitted after careful thought. "But he will have to remain on life support. Permanently." "That''s fine." Shirley''s response was immediate. "Just do it. As fast as you can." And then, as if remembering something, she turned toward the observation room. Her gaze landed on Dan''s unconscious figure. Here''s the expanded version with increased weight, intensity, and emotional gravitas, while keeping everything intact and in sequence: "¡­You''ve put ability suppressants in his body, correct?" Shirley''s voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it¡ªa sharp, dissecting precision that made the room''s temperature feel as though it had dropped several degrees. "Yes," one of the researchers confirmed, though his voice was hesitant. Shirley''s eyes remained locked onto the unconscious boy in the observation chamber, her expression unreadable. Then, in a tone that was slow, deliberate, and far colder than before, she asked: "Then why is his face still filled with pain?" The words cut through the room like a scalpel. A beat of silence followed. The gathered doctors froze, unsure of how to answer. Some instinctively looked toward Vyaas, their supposed leader, but even he hesitated, swallowing hard before finally speaking. "¡­He reacts to everything." His voice carried the weight of something deeply unsettling. "The mere sensation of touch, the presence of sound¡­ even the feeling of air against his skin triggers a response." "A response?" Shirley echoed, narrowing her eyes. "You''re saying he feels pain from something as simple as breathing?" Vyaas exhaled. "Not just pain," he clarified. "Agony." The suppressants dampen Dan''s abilities, but they do nothing to stop the fundamental nature of what he is. His body¡ª**his entire existence¡ª**is constantly trying to quantify, process, and absorb everything it comes in contact with. The pressure is ceaseless. The calculations are endless. Every moment he is awake, Dan''s brain is drowning in a flood of raw information it can''t escape from. The very act of existing is an unrelenting torture. Shirley inhaled slowly. She understood now. It made sense. It made too much sense. This was why, in the future, only his brain had remained. Why they had stripped him of everything else. Her gaze hardened, her resolve setting in an instant. "¡­Cut it off, then." The silence that followed was instant and absolute. Several of the researchers paled. "¡­Cut what off?" One of them asked, though the fear in his voice suggested he already knew the answer. Shirley didn''t blink. "His connection to his body," she said. "Paralyze him." The reaction was immediate. A few of the doctors visibly flinched, while others instinctively took half-steps back, as if trying to distance themselves from the sheer weight of her words. "Madam¡­" Vyaas hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "This is¡­ extreme." "It''s the only solution," Shirley corrected, her voice utterly devoid of sympathy. "You just explained it yourselves¡ªhis body is nothing but a prison of constant suffering. Every nerve, every receptor, every function is working against him. If he could process it, he would be begging for us to do this." She took a step forward, her cold gaze sweeping across the room. "I''m simply making the choice he cannot." One of the junior doctors swallowed hard, his voice shaking. "¡­But ma''am¡­ this will cut off his future permanently." Shirley''s expression did not change. "His body''s future? Perhaps." She turned back to the glass, looking at the boy¡ªat the messiah who would save humanity. "¡­But his mind is what matters.** His mind is the key to everything.**" A deep breath. Then, with unwavering finality, she spoke: "Do it." For the future, she would butcher a messiah. Because only a monster could save the world.