"Go get 'em, tiger."
That was the last thing I heard from my family as I left our small family-owned café. My mom sending me off with a wink and a smile, even though I had repeatedly told them they shouldn't get their hopes up for my Awakening.
A few hours earlier.
"Shhhh," Mom whispered to my little sister. "Don't wake him up. We need to surprise him."
I lay in bed, pretending to be asleep. I didn't want to ruin the surprise.
"Three... two... one... Happy birthday to you!" Dad counted down, and both my parents began singing, with Alice—my ten-year-old gremlin of a sister—jumping onto me and tickling me furiously.
I acted surprised at first, but soon launched my counterattack on the pint-sized menace. It wasn't long before Alice called for reinforcements, tears of laughter in her eyes and a wide grin on her face.
After the birthday song and tickle war ended, we headed downstairs. What greeted me was a table overflowing with breakfast foods and pastries of all kinds. My mouth hung open. I knew things had been tight lately—Mom and Dad had been scraping by to cover costs these past few months.
"Mom, Dad... this is too much. You didn't need to prepare all of this. I would've been happy with a normal breakfast," I said, a pained smile tugging at my lips. But I was touched. Deeply.
"Shut up and sit down, son," Dad grinned, waving me over. "Don't worry about us boomers. We know what we're doing and what we can afford." Mom nodded proudly beside him.
"We can eat like this every day after you awaken today, right, brother?!" Alice chirped, eyes sparkling.
"Of course we can! I'll become the strongest Awakened out there, and you'll be able to eat pastries all day, every day!" I declared with a grin, watching my sister giggle and already stuff her face.
Even though I played along, the odds were slim. No one in our family had ever Awakened. Only around 10% of people did so when they turned eighteen.
But despite that, I secretly clung to the childish dream.
What if I did Awaken? I could retire my parents, pay for Alice's tuition without putting any more strain on the family. Even now, they barely managed to cover my school fees. Our café kept us afloat, but it was a hard life. My parents worked almost every waking hour, and Alice and I helped when we weren't studying.
A small smile crept onto my face as I remembered all our moments together—like the time Alice had dropped a coffee cup right in front of a customer, convinced the world was ending. Not the first time, either.
"Everything will be alright," I mumbled to myself. "I'll just awaken... and then Alice will never have to cry over spilled coffee again."
Throughout breakfast, my parents kept reassuring me. They told me it was okay if I didn't awaken, that they were proud of me either way. But I could see the fatigue behind their eyes. They needed a break—and I was the only one who could give it to them.
When it was time to leave, I tried to hype myself up. I can do this. I will awaken. I have to.
As I reached the door, Mom slapped my shoulder and winked. "Go get 'em, tiger."
I couldn't even answer, too choked up with emotion. I gave her a firm nod instead, turned around, and headed out.
But just as I reached the street, I heard my sister shout after me:
"Don't you dare come back if you can't afford pastry like this every day for me!"
That sugar-addicted little gremlin... I'd show her. Someday I'd be back, facing her down with my A-Rank spell Deathray in hand. We'll see who talks big then, I thought with a smirk.
The Awakening Center wasn't far—about four kilometers, or two and a half "freedom units," as Dad would say.
As I walked, I passed guild recruitment posters and large screens broadcasting highlights from recent Dungeon raids. Dungeons... they were dangerous, but also the greatest source of wealth in the modern world. Once you Awakened, you could enter them—if you paid the fee, of course.
Most Dungeons were permanent fixtures, owned by guilds or governments. Only S-Rank and higher would disappear upon being cleared. The rest remained, feeding the Dungeon economy and giving Awakened hunters their chance at fame and fortune.
Could that be me soon? I wondered, heart pounding.
I shook the thought away. No point getting ahead of myself.
As I approached the Awakening Center, I saw dozens of others gathering—some excited, some terrified. Parents stood with their children, offering last-minute encouragement. The line moved slowly. One by one, names were called. One by one, students entered the Awakening Chamber.
Finally, the loudspeaker crackled:
"Ethan Vale. Please proceed to Chamber Six."
My breath caught. This was it.
I took one last deep breath and stepped forward.
Time to awaken.