The first person called to the stage was from the Silva family—one of the three most influential family in Redien City.
Daniel Silva walked to the podium with his chest puffed out, radiating the confidence that came from generations of privilege. But the moment the staff member produced a syringe filled with amber serum, his expression transformed. His eyes went wide. His face paled. His earlier bravado evaporated like morning dew under harsh sunlight.
The staff member, clearly experienced with nervous candidates, moved with swift professionalism. The needle slid into Daniel's arm before he could protest.
For a moment, nothing happened. Daniel stood rigidly, waiting.
Then his pupils dilated suddenly, expanding until his eyes were almost entirely black. His breathing quickened, sharp and erratic. A fine tremor started in his hands and spread up his arms. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool auditorium air.
"What's... what's happening to him?" a candidate whispered.
This time, Richard stood from his seat, his voice carrying easily across the space. "The Sensory Serum disrupts the body's natural elemental balance—the delicate equilibrium that keeps the elements stable within us. Right now, that boy's internal elemental container is opening, desperate to fill itself and restore stability."
He gestured toward Daniel, who now gripped the podium's edge with white knuckles. "Every cell in his body contains a tiny container for elemental energy. Usually, your innate constitution keeps these containers locked, balanced. The serum removes those constraints. His door to the container is open now, chaotic, seeking compatible energy to stabilize the chaos. Watch what happens next."
The staff member guided Daniel to the center of the stage, where seven large crystals had been arranged in a semi-circle—each one as tall as a man's forearm, radiating faint light. Brown for Earth, blue for Water, green for Wood, transparent for Air, silver-grey for Metal, red for Fire, and at the far edges, golden Light and black Dark crystals with the purple flickers from a purple crystal for lightning.
Daniel's trembling worsened as he approached. His breath came in short gasps. The audience leaned forward, transfixed.
Richard continued. "When a compatible element is near, the body recognizes it through potential difference—dense elemental energy flows toward emptiness, like water seeking lower ground. If his affinity matches, his body will eagerly absorb that energy. But let me inform you, the process isn't gentle."
Daniel's hand stretched toward the crystals, shaking badly. He bypassed the others and moved straight to the silver-grey Metal shard, as if pulled by invisible strings.
The moment his fingers made contact, the crystal flared bright.
Daniel gasped. His hand jerked, but something kept it pressed against the crystal's surface. Energy poured from the stone into his body in visible waves—silver light traveling up his arm like mercury flowing upstream.
Then the transformation began.
Starting at his fingertips, Daniel's flesh began to change. The skin took on a metallic sheen, spreading slowly from his fingers toward his palm. The process looked painful—his face contorted, teeth gritted, a strangled sound escaping his throat. The transformation crawled up to his wrist, then stopped. Daniel yanked his hand away with a cry, stumbling backward.
His hand gradually returned to normal flesh, the metallic sheen fading like frost melting in sunlight.
"Daniel Silva. Metal element," the announcer called out, voice steady despite the dramatic display.
The audience erupted in murmurs. Daniel staggered off the stage, cradling his hand. Medical staff immediately surrounded him, checking his condition. He was pale and sweating, but uninjured and stable.
"As you can see," Richard continued calmly, "awakening is not without risk. The foreign energy must fight through your body's elemental defenses to reach the containers in every cell. This creates physical phenomena—manifestations of that internal struggle. Metal users experience their flesh temporarily taking metallic properties. Other elements have their own manifestations."
The ceremony continued. One by one, candidates approached the stage, received their serum, and stepped into the semi-circle of crystals.
An Earth user touched the brown crystal and screamed as his feet seemed to merge with the stage floor, roots of stone spreading from his soles before retracting. He collapsed, gasping, and had to be helped off stage.
A Water user began sweating profusely the moment she touched the blue crystal—not normal perspiration, but water pouring from her skin as if she'd been submerged in a lake, pooling at her feet before the absorption stopped.
A Fire user's clothes began to smoke when he contacted the red crystal. Small flames licked across his shoulders. The staff rushed forward with fire suppressant, but the flames died on their own as he pulled away, leaving scorch marks on his sleeves.
Not everyone succeeded. A boy touched the green Wood crystal and immediately convulsed, foam appearing at his lips. Medical staff, the busiest bunch of today's event, rushed forward with injector pens, pressing them against his neck. The boy's seizures stopped, but he had to be carried away unconscious.
"Elemental overload," Richard explained to the hushed crowd. "His nervous system couldn't handle the chaos. Without immediate stabilization, such cases can be fatal. For cases like this, we use the Suppressor Serum that forcefully blocks the door to an empty container- to halt this process and save your life. This marvelous vial of liquid is the reason why our awakening ceremony has little to none casualty compared to the empire and federation. So, be thankful to the R&D department of our association."
The atmosphere grew heavier. This wasn't the celebratory ritual Aryan had imagined. This was dangerous. People were getting hurt, or maybe dying in other venues.
But the ceremony pressed forward. Success, failure, pain, and triumph alternated as candidates tested themselves against the crystals.
Then serial number 33 approached.
Leonard Howard was elegant in the way only old money could produce—perfect posture, tailored clothes, an easy confidence that suggested he'd never doubted himself. He'd been injected with the serum minutes earlier and stood in the semi-circle of crystals with barely a tremor.
His hand moved toward the golden Light crystal that shimmered like captured sunlight.
Contact.
Light blazed from the crystal, but instead of flowing into Leonard, it seemed to erupt from him. His entire body began to glow, soft at first, then brighter and brighter until people had to shield their eyes. He spread his hands, stood at the center like a miniature sun, radiant and terrible.
The glow faded slowly, leaving Leonard standing calmly, barely affected except for slight perspiration on his brow.
"Leonard Howard. Light element," the announcer called.
Whispers rippled through the crowd. Light users were rare, valuable, sought after by every major institution. Another noble with another rare element became the topic of discussion.
The ceremony continued through more candidates. Five Fire users in a row—all from the same family based on their matching crimson robes. Each left scorch marks on the stage.
Then came serial number 89.
Marie Rose was small, her shoulders hunched as if trying to disappear. She'd received her serum injection and now stood alone in the semi-circle, eyes darting nervously between the crystals.
Her hand trembled as she reached toward the brown Earth crystal first.
Nothing happened.
She tried blue Water. Green Wood. White Air. Each time, nothing. The crystals remained inert.
Finally, almost reluctantly, she reached for the black Dark crystal at the far edge of the semi-circle.
The moment her fingers touched its surface, the auditorium's lights dimmed.
Not flickered—dimmed, as if something was draining the luminous crystals of their power. Shadows deepened in every corner.
Marie gasped. Darkness spread from the crystal up her arm like living ink, crawling across her skin in tendrils of pure shadow. But it didn't stop at her arm. The shadows reached outward, grasping at the light around her, consuming it. The air near her body became dim, like standing in twilight even though the crystals above burned bright.
Her eyes went completely black—not just the pupils, but the entire eye, as if she'd become a conduit for absence itself.
People in the front rows gasped and pulled back. A mother covered her child's eyes.
Marie's mouth opened in a silent scream. Her body shook violently as the Dark energy flooded through her, fighting her elemental defenses, forcing its way into every cell. The shadows around her writhed like serpents, hungry and alive.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the darkness retracted. It flowed back into her body, and the auditorium's lights returned to normal. Marie stood swaying, her eyes returning to their natural color, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Marie Rose. Dark element," the announcer's voice was quieter this time, almost reluctant.
Silence crashed over the auditorium like a physical weight.
Dark element. In Redien City of all places.
Marie stumbled off the stage, her legs barely supporting her. Her parents rushed forward to catch her before she fell. Conversations erupted throughout the crowd—whispers, murmurs, a few outright gasps of dismay.
Dark users had a complicated history across the continent. Redien City in particular bore scars from an incident decades ago—a Dark Elementalist had orchestrated a massacre that still haunted the city's collective memory.
Marie kept her head down as her parents guided her to a seat at the edge of the auditorium, away from the other families. No one sat near them. An invisible circle of isolation formed, and Marie hunched smaller in her chair, making herself as inconspicuous as possible.
Richard and the other association members showed no reaction. They'd seen too much, traveled too far, to let provincial fears dictate their responses.
The ceremony continued, though the easy excitement from earlier had been replaced by nervous tension. More candidates came and went—Earth users feeling their feet root to the floor, Water users drenched in their own sweat, Fire users leaving scorch marks and smoke.
Two more boys collapsed from elemental overload. Both were stabilized and carried away on stretchers.
Finally, serial number 123 was called.
"Aryan Indra."
Aryan stood, his legs feeling strangely unsteady despite all his preparation. His mother squeezed his hand once, then released it. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the stage, acutely aware of hundreds of eyes tracking his movement, of the medical staff standing ready with their Stabilizer serums.
The staff member approached with the syringe. The needle slid into his arm smoothly, and amber liquid pushed into his bloodstream.
Aryan waited for the chaos everyone else had experienced—the trembling, the desperate hunger, the feeling of his internal balance shattering.
Nothing happened.
He blinked. Looked around. His breathing remained steady. His hands didn't shake. He felt... completely normal.
Cold dread settled in his stomach like a stone.
The serum wasn't working. Something was wrong with him. Was he broken? Was he one of the unlucky few who simply couldn't awaken an affinity? His body betrayed him—hands shaking, breath catching, cold sweat breaking across his skin.
The staff member gestured toward the semi-circle of crystals, mistaking his panic for the serum's effects.
"The serum…" Aryan's voice caught. The words died in his throat, panic swallowing his thoughts.
Even so, he forced his shaky legs to move, stepping into the center where the crystals surrounded him in an arc of colored light.
He had to try. There was still hope. Even if the serum had failed, maybe the crystals would respond anyway.
Aryan reached for the brown Earth crystal first—the most common element, the safe bet. His fingers touched the rough surface.
Nothing. The crystal remained dull and lifeless.
Not Earth then.
He moved to the blue Water crystal. Touched it. Concentrated. Willed it to respond with everything he had.
Nothing.
His hands started to shake—not from the serum, but from fear. He moved faster now, touching each crystal in turn. Green Wood—nothing. White Air—nothing. Silver Metal—nothing. Golden Light—nothing.
Each failure hit like a physical blow. His legs trembled. Cold sweat broke out across his back despite the comfortable temperature.
Around him, the audience began to murmur. Was this boy broken? Why wasn't anything working?
Finally, only one crystal remained at the far edge of the semi-circle. Purple. Ominous.
Aryan stood before it, staring at the jagged shard that crackled faintly with its own inner energy. He'd tried every other option. This was his last chance.
He reached out, half-expecting another failure, preparing himself for the humiliation of leaving the stage with no element at all. But deep down, the ember of hope was still struggling, for a desperate last attempt.
The moment his fingers brushed the crystal's surface, everything changed.
The crystal exploded with light—brilliant, blinding purple that made everyone in the auditorium flinch and look away.
Energy detonated from the stone. Not a flow or a stream—a violent eruption. Lightning essence poured into Aryan's body with such force that his entire body locked rigid, every muscle going stiff as a board. His hand remained pressed against the crystal as if welded there.
The purple lightning didn't just enter him—it consumed him. Lightning crawled up his arm in visible arcs, crackling and snapping, spreading across his chest, his neck, his face. His hair stood on end, floating in the electrical field surrounding him.
Then the pain hit.
It felt like being struck by mekanika from the inside out. Every nerve in his body fired at once, sending contradictory signals screaming through his brain. His clothes began to smoke where the electrical discharge was strongest—shoulders, chest, sleeves. Small burns appeared in the fabric, edges glowing orange before fading to black.
The lights in the auditorium flickered. The luminous crystals overhead dimmed and surged, unable to maintain stability near so much electromagnetic chaos.
Aryan wanted to scream but couldn't. His jaw was locked shut, teeth grinding together hard enough to hurt. The Lightning energy was forcing its way through every cell, breaking down his elemental defenses like a battering ram through paper walls. His body fought back instinctively, and the clash created more arcs of electricity that danced across his skin, leaving red marks where they touched.
A crystal chandelier above the stage shattered, raining glass down. Medical staff rushed forward but stopped several feet away—the electrical field around Aryan was too dangerous to approach.
"Get the Stabilizer ready!" someone shouted.
But just as they moved to inject him, Aryan's survival instinct finally broke through the paralysis. With a tremendous effort of will, he yanked his hand away from the crystal.
The connection severed. The lightning stopped flowing. The purple light faded.
Aryan collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. Smoke rose from his clothes. His hair slowly settled back down, though it remained slightly singed at the edges. Red marks covered his exposed skin—not quite burns, but evidence of electrical current's passage.
He knelt there for a long moment, chest heaving, trying to remember how to breathe normally.
The entire auditorium sat in stunned silence.
Medical staff rushed forward, only to discover that someone was already standing beside the injured Aryan. His mother checked his pulse, only to be zapped by the static electric pulse. But she forced her way, checking his breathing, looking for signs of serious injury. But aside from the superficial burns and electrical marks, Mom discovered Aryan was remarkably intact. The staff also came back to senses and completed a procedural checkup.
By that time, Aryan also came to his senses. "I.. I am fine, Mom. I awakened lightning mom. Did I make you proud?."
"Oh my baby…" Mom hugged him tightly and replied in a soft voice, "I am always proud of you, whether you awakened lightning or not. I will always be proud of you."
The announcer finally found his voice, though it came out hoarse with shock: "Aryan Indra. Lightning element."
The words echoed through the assembly.
Then the whispers started—not excited murmurs this time, but awed, almost frightened discussions. No one had ever seen an awakening that violent, that overwhelming. The crystal had nearly killed him.
But he'd survived it.
Aryan slowly got to his feet, legs shaking, and returned to his seat with mom's help.
Other parents nearby offered congratulations, but their voices were subdued, respectful, as if speaking too loudly might set him off like an unexploded bomb.
Their children looked at Aryan with something beyond envy. It looked almost like fear.
He barely noticed. His mind was still reeling, still feeling phantom arcs of electricity jumping through his nerves.
Lightning. He was a Lightning user.