I almost thought out loud.
The first word didn't come from my mouth. It bloomed behind my eyes, bright as lightning.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED]
I staggered against the wall, heart hammering. A faint shimmer hovered in the air, lines of pale-blue text hanging like ghosts only I could see.
So I hadn't been dreaming then
Welcome, User: Aiden Holt.
Designation: Psychic
Sage Path: Emotion
Level: 1
Health: 100/100 | Stamina: 70/70 | Mana: 10/10
Skills: —
Inventory: [Cerin Code]
Quests: —
My throat went dry. The text clung to my vision, shifting whenever I moved my eyes.
"Not real," I muttered. "This isn't real."
This was in every futurstic novel every author on Aureillia had publisihed my dad had already it possible. It was defintely why they killed him. There was no doubt about it.
I pushed up my glasses the moment I thought Menu, another panel slid into view, clean and sharp, each word thrumming like it had weight.
[Attributes]
Form — 0.0
Scale — 0.0
Force — 1
Duration — 1
Flow — 0.0
Sequence — 0.0
Polarity — 0.0
Anchor — 0.0
Symbolism — 0.0
Ase — ???
I reached out, half-expecting my fingers to pass through. They did. Still, the numbers pulsed back at me like they were alive.
This where the 11 sides of mana Ruffus had been talking about.
"Alright," I whispered. "Let's see what you can do."
I clenched my fist and drove it into the stone wall. Pain lanced up my arm.
[Health –3]
I sucked in air through my teeth. Not a hallucination. Not a dream.
My laugh came out broken. "Oh, shit. It's real."
I thought Force. The number twitched, then pulsed red. Power prickled down my arm, sharp, electric. For a second, I felt like I could tear the wall apart with one blow. The sensation faded just as quickly, leaving me gasping, skin hot.
[Warning: Attribute Strain]
The message burned and vanished.
I pressed a hand to my chest. The system wasn't just information. It was… responsive. Dangerous.
The world tilted. I shoved the panels away with a thought, and they folded into nothing.
Somewhere down the corridor, a noise rose — voices, feet pounding stone. A tide of sound swelling.
I forced my legs forward, pushing through the heavy wooden doors into the dining hall.
Children were standing on benches, screaming, laughing, pointing at the doorway.
"They're back!" one shouted.
"They came back!" another shrieked, nearly toppling a bowl.
I blinked, my pulse still thrumming with system-light.
"What's going on?" I asked.
And then I saw it. The hall alive, the doors thrown wide—shadows falling long across the floor as the strongest five stepped through.
The hall came alive the moment the thirty-foot wall began to move.
At first it was just a tick — a slow, grinding clack like the four arms of a colossal clock shifting against stone. Dust rained down in soft streams. The sound built into a groan, deep enough to rattle my ribs, as the slabs tilted outward. Light cut into the chamber in a sharp spear, widening into an open wound against the dark.
The gap yawned into a doorway so vast I could have stacked five men on each other's shoulders and still not brushed the top. It wasn't a door for humans. It was a gate — a mouth meant to swallow armies.
And through it, the children returned.
They trudged in lines, shadows stretching long across the marble, weapons strapped to backs far too small for the burdens they carried. Some were streaked in ash and blood, others still shaking from battles I couldn't imagine. Their faces weren't the faces of children. They were grim masks, hollowed and scarred, eyes dulled by the weight of what they'd killed.
The crowd surged to meet them, but my attention snagged on the sky.
A low whistle. A shadow.
I craned my neck just in time to see them descending — nuns in ink-black habits, each astride a leathery-winged beast that clawed the air with talons the size of spears. Quetzalcoatlus, Pteranodon, Nyctosaurus. Their riders wore crisp military uniforms, cut and armored : hard plates, harnessed belts, visors that glinted in the sun. The habits fluttered like banners of war as they spiraled down, their mounts screaming like torn metal.
I couldn't move. My stomach twisted.
Because this wasn't just spectacle. This was treason.
The Dominion had outlawed mass gatherings of the Awakened years ago. No temple, no orphanage, no sect was allowed to train so many without a license from the Council. And yet here it stood — brazen, colossal, hidden in plain sight.
There was only one explanation.
The Tarungian government had given them leeway. Maybe even protection.
The thought turned my mouth dry. Were they plannign a war again. My gut knotted with something cold and ugly. If the government knew — if they were in on this — then this Temple wasn't just a sanctuary. It was a conspiracy.
I swallowed hard, bile threatening to rise. The children filed in, the beasts screeched above, the massive gate sealed shut again with its ticking grind.
And all I could do was stand there, frowning, sick to my stomach, knowing that I was standing inside something the Dominion had sworn to erase.
It made me wonder even more why my mum had dropped me into this place. was it a mistake in her transport spell? For someone like her I doubted such.
Boots hitting the stone snapped me out of my monoluge only Corny looked fresh a testament maybe to her might she even looked younger though she had only been gone a week. Maybe it was my eyees. Matthew and Peter trailed behind her, laughing too loud for boys that still had blood drying at their wrists. And Ifunaya — quiet, eyes sharp as glass, carrying herself as if the air itself was her burden. Then they the rest less expectinal children who would have no problem probaly klling a normal human.
The younger kids rushed them like moths to a lantern. Questions flew. Who killed the most? How deep did they go? Did they see the stone serpent, the one that swallowed men whole?
Corny's smile spread, bright, brave — and wrong. Her lips curved but her eyes stayed hollow, shadows nesting beneath them. She laughed, patted heads, gave her stories out like bread crumbs.
I stood at the edge of the crowd. Then I stepped forward, slow, and caught her gaze.
"Good to see you back," I said.
Her smile widened — too wide, too polished. A mask stretched over exhaustion. And for the first time, I noticed how thin her shoulders looked beneath the armor, how her fingers trembled when they rested at her sides.
Something was off.
---
That night after the meal, the dorm settled into its restless hush. I should have lain still like the others, but my body refused. My skin crawled with it. I slipped free, bare feet climbing up the stairwell, up the cracked stones, until the roof opened above me.
Taylor was there, looking stunning sitting with her legs swinging over the edge, grinning like she'd been waiting.
The moon was thin, a blade of silver cutting the dark. That's when I heard it — muffled sobs.
I froze.
In the corner, away from the torches, Ifunaya leaned into Corny's shoulder, her body shuddering with each breath. Corny held her tight, whispering into her braids, trying to still the storm.
"I'm going," Ifunaya said, voice ragged. "I can't stay. I'll climb the wall, I don't care what it takes—"
Corny's voice broke, desperate. "No. You don't understand. I've seen it. I've seen Mama kill them all. Every child who tried. Don't say it, don't even think it—"
Her words tangled in sobs, and the sound pressed against my chest like stone. I didn't wait to hear more. I pulled back into shadow, heart hammering, and slipped away.
"Took you long enough," Taylor said.
I sat beside her. The rooftop tiles were still warm from the day, the air sharp with dust and rain-scent. For a moment, the world felt almost bearable.
We laughed at nothing. At everything. She talked about the Dominion like it was a stage play and she'd already memorized all the roles.
"One day," she said, eyes bright, "I'm going to find Author's Excalibur. The real one. I'll lift it, and they'll call me the new Author."
I snorted. "The Imperial Council would never allow that. The recreation of one of their greatest icons—by a girl? Please."
Her elbow jabbed my ribs. "Why not? Maybe they need a woman to do it right."
I chuckled, but the sound thinned when she touched my arm. "Look," she whispered.
I squinted at the dark, but saw nothing. "What?"
"Push mana into your eyes."
I tried. Nothing. My temples throbbed. "Taylor, I'm not some prodigy. You think I'll learn this in a night?"
And then—
[System Integration Detected.]
Adjusting to host's mana pathways… Copying and translating signature flow of: Previous User. Calibration: 47%... 72%... Complete. New Skill Acquired — Mana Vision I`
I gasped as something inside me shifted. Like invisible fingers took hold of my veins, guiding the current.
"Breathe," Taylor said.
I pressed harder. The trickle spilled outward, fire and needles under my skin. Pain lanced my temples. My vision blurred—then snapped sharp.
Shapes glowed into focus. Threads of pale light.
Corny and Ifunaya, across the courtyard. Ifunaya's shoulders shook, tears shining in the moonlight. Corny held her, whispering frantic prayers.
I blinked. "I can see them."
Taylor's mouth fell open. "You—what? Seriously?"
I couldn't stop grinning. "Yeah. I can even read their lips—"
[Skill Unlocked — Enhanced Perception: Lip Reading I] Activation Cost: 1 mana/sec.`
"…she's leaving," I murmured, piecing the words from Ifunaya's trembling lips.
Taylor stared. "What are you, some kind of spy?"
I laughed softly. "Let's just say I had weird parents."
But my throat locked as Ifunaya tore herself free.
Her legs carried her fast toward the wall, the thirty-foot stone teeth that cut us off from the world. Her hands clawed for purchase—
And then Mama appeared.
Not walking. Not arriving. One heartbeat she wasn't there, the next—white bone-robe, pale mask, hand raised.
Ifunaya's body convulsed mid-climb. Her mouth tore open in a scream—but no sound reached me. Only the shape of it, jaws stretched wide, like my nightmare made real. Her body twisted, ruptured, and dropped like a rag doll.
My chest caved. Breath ragged. It wasn't just her death I felt—my father's absence ripped me open all over again.
Good lords beside me, Taylor bit her lip so hard blood traced her chin. "Not again," she whispered.
I turned, stunned. "Not again?"
But she was already pulling me back, away from the edge.
Corny's cry I could almsost here it as i looked through the night. She staggered toward Mama, fists shaking. "Why did you kill her?! She's braver than half this orphanage put together!"
Mama tilted her head. Calm. Measured. "Discipline."
"You could've killed me instead!" Corny's voice cracked. "She wanted freedom—you murdered her for it!"
Mama's hand twitched. The air bent. Blood slicked Corny's lips before she even realized she was choking.
"No…" I whispered. My eyes strained to catch more. My skill fed me fragments of her broken words: …experiment… technique… no end to this…
Taylor grabbed my wrist. "Stop. You don't want to see."
I have killed more monsters than any kid in the orphange hisotry ever has!
You could have killed me instead and let her out.
But I couldn't look away. Corny spat red, glaring at the mask. "You use us to polish your weapons. To perfect some—some monster's dream!"
Mama's hand closed around her face. Fingers white as bone. Blood poured between them.
"Enough."
I flinched.
"Rin!" Taylor covered my eyes, yanking me back by the neck. She shoved me through the roof door. "Don't. Don't say a word. Don't tell anyone." Her breath was fire, her eyes two storms.
She pushed me toward my bed. "Just sleep. Forget it. You don't know what you just saw—and you don't want to."
The dorm breathed in silence. Children sleeping. Pens scratching in dreams.
And me—shaking, shaking, unable to stop.
I had one thought, no two or maybe three but if I could be certain I would surive now that everything could be questioned I had to know.
"Why the fuck was Taylor speaking like she was already aware a newcomer?"