The room was quieter than James expected.
Not silent—never silent—but muted, like the walls themselves absorbed sound. A faint hum lingered in the air, steady and low, like something alive breathing just out of sight.
James shifted slightly in his chair, his fingers tapping once against his knee before he forced them still. Waiting was always the worst part.
The door opened without a sound.
Three people entered.
They weren't dressed dramatically—no flowing robes or glowing eyes—but there was something about them that made James straighten instinctively. Presence, maybe. Or just experience. The kind you didn't question.
"James Harper," the woman in the center said, glancing at a thin tablet in her hand. "First Awakening?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Her eyes flicked up briefly, studying him, then she gave a small nod. "Relax. This isn't a test you can fail in the usual sense."
That didn't help.
One of the others, a man leaning casually against the wall, let out a quiet huff. "You'd be surprised how many still manage to panic themselves into doing nothing."
James glanced at him, unsure if he was joking.
He wasn't.
The third evaluator stepped forward, placing a small, circular device on the table in front of James. It looked simple—metal, dull silver, no markings—but the moment it touched the surface, the air shifted.
James felt it immediately.
Like stepping closer to a storm.
"Before we begin," the woman said, "you should understand what's happening. Not everyone bothers explaining, but…" She paused, then shrugged lightly. "You look like the type who'd overthink it anyway."
James almost smiled.
"Seventy years ago," she continued, "the world ended. Or at least, the version of it people were used to."
The man by the wall spoke up, voice casual. "Portals. Opened everywhere. No warning. No pattern."
"From those portals came mana," the third evaluator added, adjusting something on the device. "And things far worse."
James listened, his attention locked in despite the tension in his chest.
"Animals changed first," the woman said. "Then the environment. Then people started noticing… differences. Some survived. Some didn't. Entire cities were wiped out in weeks."
"The governments collapsed not long after," the man added. "Couldn't fight what they didn't understand."
James swallowed. He'd heard bits of this before—everyone had—but never like this. Never from people who sounded like they'd been there.
"Eventually, things stabilized," the woman went on. "Humanity adapted. The portals became less frequent, but they never stopped completely. The mana stayed. And with it…" She gestured vaguely toward him. "…Awakenings."
James glanced down at his hands.
"Not everyone Awakens," the third evaluator said. "That's the first thing you need to accept. Some people go their entire lives without ever developing a talent."
"And among those who do," the man added, "most aren't special."
Blunt.
James appreciated it more than he expected.
"Talents fall into three broad categories," the woman continued. "Mage. Warrior. Support. You don't choose. It manifests based on factors we still don't fully understand."
"Grades run from E to A," the third evaluator said. "That determines your baseline potential. It doesn't grow. What you get today is what you keep."
"But," the man said, pushing himself off the wall, "how you use it? That's on you."
The room fell quiet again.
James exhaled slowly. The warmth in his chest had returned—not strong, not overwhelming, but steady. Like something waiting.
The woman nodded toward the device on the table. "Place your hand on it."
He hesitated for half a second, then did.
The moment his skin made contact, the hum in the room deepened.
Not louder.
Closer.
James stiffened as a faint pulse moved up his arm, settling somewhere behind his ribs. The warmth flared slightly, enough to make him suck in a quiet breath.
"There it is," the man murmured.
"Don't force it," the woman said calmly. "Let it surface."
James closed his eyes.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
A flicker.
Not outside, not visible, but inside. A thin thread of something sharp and bright, like a crack of lightning across a dark sky. It vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, but it left something behind.
A feeling.
Not warmth anymore.
Energy.
Unstable. Restless.
Alive.
James's fingers tightened slightly against the device.
The evaluators didn't interrupt.
"Good," the third one said quietly. "You're responding."
James opened his eyes, breathing a little faster now. "Is… that it?"
The man smirked faintly. "You were expecting fireworks?"
"…Maybe."
"Then you've watched too many dramatized recordings."
The woman allowed herself a small smile this time. "This is only the beginning. The Awakening isn't a single moment—it's a process. What you felt just now is your talent recognizing the call."
James looked down at his hand again.
The energy was still there.
Faint, but unmistakable.
For the first time in his life, he wasn't empty.
"Now," the woman said, straightening slightly, "let's see what you actually are."
The device beneath his hand pulsed once.
And this time, something answered.