AN:Please comment as much as you can — I really want your help so I can improve.
Tuesday morning came with the same alarm buzz, the same stiff limbs, the same pale light leaking through the window. Marie Williams silenced the sound without looking and pulled the blanket tighter around her, clinging to the warmth for just a few seconds longer.
She hadn't slept well. Again.
The dreams were worse this time. Still vague, but more persistent. Shadows without form. Whispers she almost understood. And a presence. Always just at the edge of her awareness.
She forced herself up.
No time for dreams. The real world waited, cold and indifferent.
After dressing and eating another tasteless ration bar, Marie stepped into the morning chill. Her breath fogged in the air. A low drone passed overhead, scanning the street with soft pulses of light.
The walk to school was uneventful, but she noticed more posters than usual. Thin digital displays, pulsing softly from the walls and poles. Most were standard propaganda:
"The System is Opportunity."
"Service with the Assoziation secures your future."
"Gates are dangers. Only trained Hunters should approach."
But one poster stood out.
A recruitment ad. High-resolution. Gilded lettering. It showed a young man, maybe nineteen, in stylish armor and a black cloak, standing atop the ruins of a shattered Gate. The slogan read:
"Join the Stormspear Guild. If you're strong enough."
Marie stared at it a moment longer than she meant to. Then she moved on.
At school, the atmosphere was a little more electric than usual. Buzzing with anticipation.
Students whispered excitedly between classes. Someone from Class 3-A had received a pre-Awakening surge—a rare but documented event where the System "leaked" early. No confirmation from the teachers, but the gossip spread fast.
Marie didn't join in. She had no friends to share rumors with. And even if she had, she wouldn't have cared.
But the idea bothered her.
Why them? Why now?
Why not her?
The first class of the day was Social Dynamics.
A mostly useless subject, in Marie's opinion. It focused on group cohesion, cooperation drills, and team simulations.
Today's lesson involved discussion groups on post-Awakening career paths.
Each table was to propose a theoretical build for a student based on hypothetical stats and skills.
Marie sat alone.
The teacher, Mr. Huber, walked past her desk without assigning her a group.
She didn't complain.
Instead, she drafted a silent build on her datapad:
Class: Adaptive DuelistPrimary: DEX/INTSecondary: PER/ENDSkills: Multi-strike, Focus Shift, Reactive Guard
Not realistic. But fun.
She deleted it before class ended.
During the break, she found herself near the vending machines.
Two students from another class—both boys—were talking about skill strategies.
"…I heard if your INT is over 150, you get access to System Insight. That's basically a cheat."
"That's bullshit. You need WIS too."
"WIS doesn't even do anything before you awaken."
Marie lingered by the machines a moment too long.
One of the boys noticed her. "What are you staring at?"
She looked away. "Nothing."
He snorted. "Figures. Bet you're hoping for a cleaning skill or something."
His friend laughed. Marie walked off without another word.
It didn't sting. Not really.
She was used to it.
In Magical Theory, Ms. Aoki began a unit on System-Linked Evolution.
"Many of you will soon experience your first contact with the System," she said. "You must understand that the System does not define who you are. It reveals potential—but potential must be cultivated."
Marie paid attention. Not just because she liked Ms. Aoki, but because she wanted to believe the words. That she wasn't just the sum of a hidden algorithm.
"Can you change your class?" someone asked.
"In very rare cases, yes. Usually through trauma, major choices, or the accumulation of atypical traits. But for most people, their path is fixed upon Awakening."
That silenced the room.
Marie didn't know whether to feel comforted or terrified.
Lunch brought another routine.
Same stairwell. Same thermos. Slightly warmer soup today—she had used an improvised heat wrap made from scavenged battery coils.
She watched the courtyard from a crack in the wall.
Two girls practiced staff movements—clearly from the Combat Track. Their moves were sloppy but enthusiastic. Nearby, a boy from 3-D showed off a mock interface he had designed for his projected skills.
It was all speculation. No one really knew what they'd get.
Marie wasn't even sure if she wanted to know early.
Hope was dangerous.
It made disappointment harder to swallow.
In the afternoon, they had a special seminar.
All third-years were herded into the auditorium for a mandatory System Awareness session.
A representative from the Assoziation stood at the front. She wore no armor—just a sharp suit and a pin bearing the Gate emblem: a stylized archway surrounded by six concentric rings, symbolizing control, order, and containment.
Her presentation was clean. Professional. Hollow.
"The System chooses based on internal traits, mana affinity, and life patterns," she said. "While we do not control it, we can prepare. Mental clarity, physical conditioning, and knowledge all influence early growth."
Marie watched silently.
No mention of the failures.
No mention of what happened to those who awakened with nothing useful.
No mention of the quiet dropouts. The vanished names.
Just encouragement. Just branding.
After school, she didn't go straight home.
Instead, she visited the district library. It was half-forgotten and underfunded, but still open. The upper floors were closed off, but the main hall was stocked with archived texts and semi-functional terminals.
Marie found a corner desk and pulled up a few articles on rare awakenings.
Most were censored. Sanitized.
She filtered by age, looking for pre-Gate documentation. Old theory texts. Metaphysical essays.
One quote stuck with her:
"Power without purpose is raw instability. Power with fear is collapse."
She wrote it down in her notes.
That evening, Marie trained in her apartment.
Small, quiet motions with her wooden staff. Stretches. Balance drills. A single set of push-ups.
Her arms ached from the effort.
Afterward, she reheated dinner and studied for her practical exams.
The medical screening was in two days.
Another checkpoint.
Another metric.
She wondered if the nurse would say anything this time.
Her last check-up had ended in silence and a printed sheet that said: "Stable. No concerns."
Stable.
She didn't feel stable.
She fell asleep later than she should have. The shadows in her dream had grown teeth.
They said nothing.
They simply watched.