The line shuffled forward in a slow, restless wave, and Griffin felt the weight of the massive DOA Central Hall pressing down on him from every side.
The building itself was a monument to control, all polished gray stone and reinforced steel beams that rose so high the ceiling disappeared into shadow.
The Holographic screens along the walls, cycling through live feeds of active Dimensional Gates across the continents, some showing quiet monitoring teams, others flashing red alerts where fresh rifts had just opened.
The air carried a faint ozone tang mixed with the clean scent of polished floors, the kind of sterile atmosphere that made every breath feel watched.
The thousands of eighteen-year-olds stood in orderly rows, all wearing the same plain gray uniforms the DOA issued for the ceremony, simple collared shirts and trousers with a small silver DOA emblem stitched over the left chest, nothing flashy, nothing that could distract from the crystal's judgment.
The officials moving along the lines wore sharper black uniforms with crisp silver piping along the shoulders and a larger Assessment Bureau badge on the chest, the department responsible for conducting every Awakening Ceremony, measuring Aptitude Coefficients, assigning official Grades and Ranks, and maintaining the global Walker Ranking Index.
Every citizen turned eighteen had to register and undergo testing at a DOA facility, and this hall was one of the largest on the continent.
The officials moved with quiet efficiency, tablets in hand, their expressions calm and professional as they guided candidates forward one by one.
Around Griffin the conversations overlapped in a low, constant murmur, dozens of voices blending together as everyone tried to steady their nerves.
A group of three boys to his left spoke in hushed tones, their words tumbling over each other.
"I practiced the basic mana breathing exercises every night for three months," one of them said, voice tight. "If I get a combat Class I'm joining the first guild that'll take me. I don't care if it's small. I just don't want to end up hauling corpses for the rest of my life."
His friend cut in quickly. "Same here. My aptitude test last month showed decent mana flow. I'm hoping for something like Earth Warden or Blade Dancer. Anything that lets me actually fight instead of sitting behind a desk counting supplies. The thought of getting stuck as a porter terrifies me more than the gates themselves."
The third boy laughed nervously. "You two are making it sound easy. I keep imagining the crystal flashing red and the system voice saying 'Echo Caller' or worse. My entire future rides on the next ten seconds. One bad roll and I'm stuck in the lower districts forever."
Further ahead a cluster of girls spoke in softer voices, their words carrying just enough for Griffin to catch fragments.
One of them was twisting the hem of her uniform shirt as she whispered, "I don't need to be famous. I just want something stable. A decent Support Class would be enough. Healing or barrier work. Anything that lets me contribute without getting torn apart in the front lines."
Her friend answered with a shaky breath. "I know exactly what you mean. The waiting is killing me. Every time the crystal lights up I feel my stomach drop. What if it decides I'm nothing special? I've seen too many people walk out of here with dead eyes because they got a useless Class. I keep telling myself the DOA knows what it's doing, but right now it feels like my whole life is hanging on whatever that crystal decides to show."
Behind Griffin another pair of candidates kept their voices low but urgent. "My parents keep saying even an F-Rank is better than nothing," one muttered.
"At least you get to work the gates instead of starving in the civilian sector. But I don't want to spend twenty years as a porter watching real Walkers get rich while I haul bodies. I want to be the one clearing the gates, not cleaning up after them."
His companion let out a long sigh. "Tell me about it. I trained for months, ran drills until my legs gave out. If I get a mid-tier combat Class I'm never looking back. The thought of disappointing my family after all the sacrifices they made to get me here… it's too much. This one moment decides everything. Everything."
The voices kept coming from every direction, a living current of hope and fear that wrapped around Griffin as the line crept forward. He kept his expression calm, hands still in his pockets, but he felt every word settle in his chest.
The Awakening Crystal hovered above the central platform like a small, living sun, its surface smooth and flawless, pulsing with a soft white light that seemed to reach into the air around it. It was larger than he had expected, easily the size of a full-grown man, suspended by invisible forces above a simple silver pedestal etched with faint runes.
Every time a candidate stepped onto the platform the crystal would brighten, sending gentle waves of light across the hall, and the system voice would announce the result in clear, emotionless tones. Griffin watched as another boy stepped up.
The crystal flared bright gold. "Sword Saint Class – B-Grade Aptitude."
Applause rippled through the crowd, as everyone looked at the boy with envy, jealousy, admiration and all kinds of mix emotions.
The boy walked off the platform with his head high, shoulders squared like the weight of the world had just lifted off them. A few candidates clapped harder, others stared with quiet envy, and the officials in their black uniforms nodded politely as they logged the result.
Griffin felt the knot in his stomach tighten another notch. The line moved again, bringing him closer to the platform. He could see the crystal more clearly now, its surface shimmering with inner light that seemed to shift and breathe.
The air around the pedestal felt warmer, thicker, charged with something that made the hairs on his arms rise. The officials in their crisp black uniforms moved with quiet efficiency, their silver piping catching the light every time they turned.
One of them glanced in Griffin's direction and offered a small, professional nod, the kind that said they had seen thousands of nervous faces just like his. Griffin nodded back without speaking.
His turn was getting closer now, only a handful of people separating him from the moment that would decide so much. He kept breathing steady, eyes fixed on the glowing crystal as another flare of light filled the hall and the murmur of voices rose and fell around him like a tide.
The official at the front of the line called the next name. Griffin took one slow breath and waited. His turn was coming.