The air inside the Gehenna Response Administration's Oracle City Branch was heavy with the sharp scent of ozone and sterilized steel.
It created a cold, oppressive atmosphere that pressed down on every eighteen-year-old gathered in the vast subterranean hall of the Monolith. This was the day of the Awakening Ceremony, a moment marked on every human's calendar since the Great Collision of 2026.
In this new reality, birth certificates held no weight; bank accounts were secondary concerns. The only thing that truly mattered was the outcome of the scan about to take place. To become a Dimensional Walker meant ascending to a god-like status, becoming a protector of humanity capable of commanding elements and reaping riches from other dimensions.
Failure meant remaining a "mortal," destined to live in the shadows of Impact Zones, forever serving those elite individuals who possessed the mana Griffin Creed so desperately sought.
Griffin stood among his peers, his heart pounding anxiously against his ribs. He was lean, with dark hair falling over eyes fixed on the center of the room. Today, he felt more acutely aware of his surname than ever before.
The Creed name had once been synonymous with heroism on the front lines, but after his father vanished into a Grade 12 Gate years ago, their family had fallen into obscurity in the Impact Outskirts.
Today was meant to be his chance to reclaim that glory. Beside him stood Elena, her shimmering blonde hair catching light as she leaned closer, her ambitious gaze darting toward the massive obsidian pillar at the front of the hall.
"Do you think they'll start with high-potential candidates first?" she whispered over the hum of machinery surrounding them.
"I've heard those with latent mana signatures can actually make the Awakening Stone vibrate before they even touch it. My dad spent a fortune on my mana-attunement supplements this year, if I don't hit at least B-Grade Class, I don't know what I'll do! The Silver Wing Guild already sent me a scouting letter; everything hinges on what happens in ten minutes."
She turned her attention back to him eagerly. "What about you? You've been training hard, surely you feel something shifting within?"
Griffin managed a tight smile despite feeling knots in his stomach. "I've been doing breathing exercises," he replied cautiously. "No massive pool of mana yet, but they say some people are late bloomers, my dad didn't show true potential until he stepped inside a gate himself."
He took a breath and continued, "I'm just hoping for something solid like Vanguard class so I can earn enough to get my mom out of here."
He reached out to brush her hand but noticed she pulled back slightly as names began being called out.
The air grew colder as G.R.A officials clad in pristine white military uniforms stepped onto the podium beside them.
The Awakening Stone was a sight to behold, both awe-inspiring and terrifying. This jagged shard of dark crystal, salvaged from the first Dimensional Impact, hung suspended in a magnetic field that hissed with contained energy.
It was rumored that the stone did more than just measure power; it assessed the very soul of each candidate, aligning their biological frequency with a specific archetype from the Gehenna Dimension.
One by one, teenagers approached the stone, trembling as they pressed their palms against its cold surface. The results were projected onto massive holographic screens looming over the hall for everyone to see.
A C-Rank Mage elicited a ripple of applause; a D-Rank Warrior brought forth sighs of relief. Then came Marcus, a tall and arrogant boy who stepped up confidently. When he touched the stone, it erupted in a brilliant golden light that left onlookers gasping.
"Marcus Thorne. Class: Storm Bringer. Grade: A. Initial Rank: E," boomed the G.R.A. officer through the speakers, igniting wild cheers from the crowd.
An A-Grade class indicated Marcus had potential to reach S-Ranks in his lifetime. a future national asset indeed.
He strutted down the steps with his head held high, eyes scanning the crowd with disdain until they landed on Griffin.
With a loud snort that carried across the hall, he mocked, "Well, look at that! A real hero just walked on stage! I wonder if our little 'Legacy' kid over there has even an ounce of lightning in his veins or if he'll just be my bag carrier when raids start. Don't worry, Creed; I might hire you as a porter if you're lucky enough to awaken an F-Rank Shield Class, someone's got to carry loot while real Walkers do the work."
Laughter erupted around them like sharp cuts against Griffin's skin. Heat flushed through his neck as he kept his gaze forward, refusing to give Marcus any satisfaction with a reaction. Elena didn't defend him; instead, she stared at Marcus with newfound respect.
Finally, an administrator called out the name Griffin had been dreading: "Griffin Creed. Step forward for judgment."
The walk to the podium felt endless; each step echoed against polished floors while G.R.A officials regarded him with professional indifference.
As he reached for the stone and pressed his palm firmly against its cold surface, memories flooded back, his mother's tired face and his father's absence loomed large as reminders of their struggles.
For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened, the stone remained dark and still like a frozen lake where no ripples dared disturb its surface. Usually, it would hum or glow almost immediately upon contact; Griffin pushed harder against it now, eyes wide and mind screaming for even a flicker of light.
A second passed. Then five. The hum of the magnetic field grew louder, or maybe it was just the ringing in his ears. Suddenly, the stone flickered with a dull, sickly grey light that barely illuminated his fingertips.
It wasn't the vibrant red of a Warrior or the deep blue of a Mage; it resembled ash. The holographic screen above him sprang to life, displaying data that would doom him before he even had a chance to begin.
Name: Griffin Creed.
Class: Dimensional Hunter.
Grade: Unranked.
Mana Capacity: 0.
Initial Rank: F.
The silence that followed was more oppressive than any scream. It lasted only a heartbeat before being shattered by waves of hysterical laughter that erupted from Marcus and quickly spread through the hall like wildfire.
"Zero mana? Is that even possible?" someone shouted from the back.
"He's not even a Walker; he's just a regular human with a fancy title!"
Marcus stepped forward, pointing at the screen while clutching his stomach in laughter. "A Dimensional Hunter? What are you going to hunt with zero mana, Creed? Dust bunnies under your bed? You're a 'Zero.' A complete dud! The great Creed bloodline has finally run dry, leaving us with this useless F-Rank trash pile. You shouldn't even be allowed to hold a license, you're a disgrace to the uniform."
Griffin stood frozen on the podium, his hand still resting on the cold stone that had just sentenced him to misery. He turned slowly toward Elena, hoping for even a shred of warmth from their shared moments over the past few months.
But she was no longer the girl he knew; her face had morphed into one of cold disgust as she stepped back from him as if he were contagious, her eyes filled with embarrassment and anger.
"Don't look at me like that, Griffin," she said loudly enough for those around her to hear, ensuring her reputation remained untarnished by association.
"I can't believe I wasted my time talking to you! I thought you had potential, but you're just bottom-feeding scum, a 'Zero' like you has no place in my future! Don't ever call me again and don't think we were on the same level! Marcus is right,you're nothing but a porter, maybe not even that."
Her words hit him harder than any physical blow could have managed; Griffin felt as if the world were tilting off its axis beneath him. The G.R.A official cleared his throat, pity flickering in his eyes, almost worse than mockery itself.
"Candidate Creed," he said flatly, "please vacate the podium so we can continue with today's awakenings. Your F-Rank documentation will be sent to your digital ID within an hour; please report to the auxiliary exit for non-combatant processing."
Griffin didn't move for what felt like an eternity, his gaze locked on the "Mana: 0" projected in massive letters above him.
Griffin felt the weight of countless mocking glares, the whispers of "Trash" and "Failure" echoing around him like a heavy shroud. As he pulled his hand away from the stone, a strange hollowness settled in his chest, as if something deep within him was laughing at the world but he was too numb to grasp it.
He began to descend the stairs, his legs feeling like lead. Marcus and his new group of elite friends deliberately blocked his path, forcing Griffin to push through them while they hurled insults and sneered at his "Zero" status.
Elena stood next to Marcus, laughing at one of his jokes, her arm brushing against his as if they were already teammates. She didn't even glance at Griffin as he passed by. The camaraderie, the promises of loyalty, and shared dreams had all vanished the moment the stone remained dark.
In that moment, Griffin understood that in Oracle City, people didn't care about you; they cared about your rank. Without a high-grade class, he felt less than human, a ghost drifting through a world designed for giants.
As Griffin pushed through the heavy glass doors of the Monolith, he left behind its bright, high-tech interior for the cold, gray air of Oracle City.
The sun was obscured by thick layers of smog and mana-clouds, casting a dreary shadow over towering skyscrapers and rusted outskirts. He walked down the massive stone steps of the G.R.A. branch with his head bowed and shoulders slumped.
The celebratory music from inside faded away, replaced by the distant roar of industrial machinery and car horns. He was an F-Rank, a Zero, the boy who was supposed to save his family now reduced to someone who would be lucky just to find work cleaning boots for those he once called friends.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Griffin paused and stared at his trembling hands. His face reflected total defeat; any spark in his eyes had been extinguished by judgment from that stone.
There he stood, alone against a backdrop that had just cast him aside.