The transition from the Sector 7 Awakening Hall to the Neo-Lagos Awakener Academy was supposed to be a victory lap. Instead, for Robin, it felt like being escorted to a high-tech funeral.
The Academy sat like a jagged obsidian needle piercing the smog of the High-Sectors. At the top, the "Cloud-Tier" dorms glowed with stabilizing mana-fields, housing the A and B-rankers. At the very base, buried in the literal shadow of the tower, sat the Rust Dorms.
Robin hauled his single duffel bag—containing a few worn clothes and a 2026-era sharpening stone—into Room 402. The air smelled of burnt wiring and recycled oxygen. The walls were thin enough that he could hear a student in the next room crying over their E-rank Earth-Wall aptitude.
"Room for one?" a voice cracked.
Robin turned to see his roommate: a lanky kid named Kael, whose A.I.S. was projecting a flickering green icon. [Rank: D | Aptitude: Minor Fermentation].
"I'm Robin," he said simply.
Kael's eyes widened, his retinas scanning the public data on Robin's ID tag. "Wait... you're the Void guy? The S-Rank?" He backed away slightly, as if the 'Void' might be contagious. "Man, I heard about you on the news-feed. They said you're a walking error code. Just... don't swallow my stuff, okay?"
Robin didn't answer. He climbed onto the hard, poly-mesh bunk and stared at the ceiling. The mockery from the hall still echoed in his mind, but it was background noise now. He had something more important to deal with.
A.I.S., he thought. Open Status.
The black, fractured HUD flickered into his vision.
[Current Status: Robin]
Attribute Value A.I.S. Observation
Level 1 (S-Rank: 15 Points Available)
Intelligence 15 Processing Capacity: Normal
Speed 10 Reflexes: Average
Strength 10 Physical Output: Average
Mana 0/0 VACUUM STATUS ACTIVE
UNALLOCATED STAT POINTS: 15]
In 2053, most students waited for their AI to suggest a "Build." An AI would say: "Based on your Fire aptitude, I suggest 10 points into Intelligence for Mana capacity and 5 into Speed." Robin's AI remained silent. It didn't care. It was just a mirror reflecting a void.
He knew that if he wanted to survive the Academy's first dungeon-run next week, he couldn't play by their rules. He needed to be able to "calculate" the space around him faster than the school's sensors could track.
Allocate 10 points to Intelligence, Robin commanded. 5 points to Speed.
A sharp, cooling sensation flooded his brain. It was like his mind suddenly expanded, the tiny room becoming a high-definition grid of coordinates. Every crack in the ceiling, every vibration of the ventilation system—he could suddenly "map" it all. His eyes felt sharper, his muscles twitching with a new, restless energy.
[NOTIFICATION]
Intelligence: 25 (+10)
Speed: 15 (+5)
Condition: Neural Synapses Overclocked.
He sat up and pulled a rusted, standard-issue training dagger from his bag—a "gift" Silas had "accidentally" left in his locker earlier that day.
I can't use a Skill Book, Robin whispered to the empty room. So I'll have to build the skill myself.
He closed his eyes. He didn't try to summon mana. Instead, he visualized the space at the very edge of the dagger's blade. He imagined the air molecules there being pushed aside—no, not pushed. Deleted. He imagined a 0.1-millimeter gap in reality where the steel met the air.
It was exhausting. Without a System-guided "Skill," his brain had to do all the heavy lifting. His forehead beaded with sweat as he tried to maintain the mental image of a "Spatial Fold."
[A.I.S. WARNING: BRAIN TEMPERATURE RISING]
[UNRECOGNIZED MENTAL PATTERN DETECTED]
Suddenly, the rusted tip of the dagger flickered. For a micro-second, it didn't just look sharp—it looked gone. A tiny, silent ripple appeared in the air, like a glitch in a video game.
Robin gasped, dropping the knife. It hit the floor with a dull thud. His head throbbed with a massive "Mana Migraine," but he was grinning.
The A.I.S. chimed, a notification appearing in the corner of his eye.
[SYSTEM LOG]
New Manual Input Detected.
User-Created Pattern: [Spatial Edge (Incomplete)]
Mana Cost: [CALCULATION ERROR]
Note: Registration failed. Accuracy of imagination is currently too low.
"Not enough Intelligence," Robin muttered, rubbing his temples. "But it worked."
A soft chime came from his personal terminal. A message from Silas.
"Hey, don't forget the Academy orientation in the morning. They're giving out the Level 1 Skill Books. I know you said you can't use them, but come anyway. I might have 'bought' an extra Weapon Art manual you could look at. See ya, Void King."
Robin deleted the message, but a small part of him felt a pang of guilt. Silas was helping him out of pity, but Robin was playing a much deeper game.
He didn't need the Academy's books. He didn't need their standardized fireballs or shields. He was going to spend his time in the Rust Dorms doing what no one else in 2053 dared to do.
He was going to train his body until it moved faster than their cameras, and train his mind until the Void wasn't just a hole—but a weapon.
[Robin's Updated Status]
Attribute Value Change
Strength 10 --
Speed 15 (+5)
Intelligence 25 (+10)
Mana 0/0 VOID STATUS
[UNALLOCATED STAT POINTS: 0]