Rank-E wasn't just a number.
It was a verdict.
By the next morning, Ironclad City High had already moved on. Awakening Day was yesterday's spectacle, and the city thrived on momentum. Winners surged forward. Losers were forgotten.
Kael Dominus learnt that lesson before breakfast.
He stood at the edge of the training plaza as instructors divided students into groups. Names were called. Assignments given. Futures quietly adjusted.
"Rank-A through B—Beast Synchronisation Hall."
"Rank-C—Combat Foundations."
"Rank-D—Physical Conditioning."
There was a pause.
Then—
"Rank-E… auxiliary duties."
Several students laughed.
Kael didn't react. He already knew.
Auxiliary duties meant cleaning corridors, transporting equipment, and maintaining facilities others would never touch. It meant being useful without being seen.
He took the mop handed to him and turned away without protest.
No one stopped him.
The auxiliary wing was older than the rest of the campus—an artefact from before the Ironclad System had perfected its classifications. The walls were thicker here, reinforced manually instead of algorithmically. The lights flickered more often.
Kael cleaned in silence.
Yet no matter how much he focused on the rhythm of his movements, he couldn't ignore it.
The pressure.
It rested deep within him, neither painful nor comforting. Just present. As if something immense had settled inside his chest and decided to wait.
Last night's memory surfaced unbidden.
Do you wish to command?
Kael clenched his jaw.
He had searched for the voice after Awakening Day. Tried to will it back. Tried to reject it.
It didn't respond.
But it didn't leave either.
The Beast Theory class was held in the west lecture hall—a tiered chamber with floating displays and adaptive projections. Even Rank-E students were required to attend. Knowledge, at least, was considered universal.
Kael took a seat at the far back.
The instructor, Professor Halren, activated the central display. A hologram bloomed into existence—layered circles representing the beast hierarchy.
"Beasts", she said, "are governed by instinctual authority. Dominance defines obedience. Bloodline defines potential."
She gestured, and the image shifted—greater beasts towering over lesser ones.
"Humans bond beasts to borrow from this structure. Rank reflects how much authority a human can sustain."
Kael's fingers tightened.
Authority.
The word echoed differently now.
"There are no exceptions," Halren continued. "A human without a beast is powerless."
Something inside Kael stirred.
Not violently.
Deliberately.
The pressure pressed outward.
For a fraction of a second, the hologram distorted.
The towering beasts bowed.
Halren paused mid-sentence.
"…System lag?" she muttered.
The projection stabilised.
No one else reacted.
Kael's breath was shallow.
That wasn't imagination.
The pressure receded, satisfied—as if it had proven a point.
That night, Kael lay awake in his dorm room, staring at the ceiling.
Then the darkness shifted.
Not light.
Not sound.
A presence unfolded.
A translucent interface formed before his eyes—not the blue-white clarity of the Ironclad System, but something deeper. Black, edged with faint silver script that felt old.
Sovereign Interface — Unregistered
Authority State: Dormant
Recognition Level: Initiate
Kael sat up slowly.
"This isn't the system," he whispered.
The panel pulsed once.
Acknowledgement.
Command Type: Inherited Authority
Binding Method: Absolute Recognition
His heart pounded.
"Inherited… from what?"
The interface did not answer.
Another line appeared.
System Incompatibility Detected
Kael exhaled shakily.
"So the system can't see you."
The pressure within him shifted—approving.
One final line materialised.
First Directive Pending
Kael stared at it long after the panel faded.
Something had awakened inside him.
And it was waiting for him to decide what kind of ruler he would be.