The ceiling wasn't interesting. Just dull grey panels broken by humming lights. But the boy stared anyway, arms folded behind his head like he was searching for answers in a blank sky.

His skin still tingled.

Whatever had happened during the assessment—the blackout, the surge, the screaming... it hadn't left him. It clung to his bones like static. Quiet. Invisible. But there. A pressure just beneath the surface. A distant drumbeat only he could hear.

Something had shifted inside him.

Not shattered… but cracked. Just enough to let something in. Or out.

The silence around him felt heavier. The air thicker. His senses off. Slightly wrong.

Then...

The dorm door creaked open.

A tall guy strode in, slinging a battered duffel over his shoulder. Chestnut hair in a wild mess, uniform rumpled. His confidence worn loose, like a jacket two sizes too big. He scanned the room once, sharp eyes locking onto the top bunk.

"You're the E-Rank who fried the lights, right?" he asked, a smirk already in place like it had nowhere else to go.

The boy blinked. "…I guess."

"Didn't think E's could blow the grid." The guy dropped his bag on the lower bunk. "Name's Kovan. B-Rank."

He extended a hand.

The boy hesitated but then reached out. He gave a brief shake. Then silence.

"…Nice to meet you," the boy said quietly.

Kovan tilted his head. "And you are?"

A pause.

"…I don't really remember," the boy murmured. "My name. It's… fuzzy."

Kovan half-snorted. "Amnesia? Seriously? What is this, a drama?"

He wasn't mocking, just amused. Like weird and goofy was his normal. 

A sharp beep echoed from the hall.

"That's us," Kovan said, already moving. "Recruitment Hall. Let's go. Might be our lucky day."

The boy sat up slowly. Limbs heavy. Another pulse thumped through his chest, offbeat. Off. He pressed a hand over his heart.

Not pain.

Just discomfort.

"Still doesn't feel like mine."

The Guild Recruitment Hall looked like a temple built by someone obsessed with machines and magic.

Metal walls, polished like glass. Floors etched with glowing runes. Arcane circuitry pulsed just beneath the surface, casting eerie blue light. Shadows stretched unnaturally long. The very air felt charged.

Not sound.

Pressure.

Living mana, restless and watching.

Dozens of recruits stood in line. Some calm. Some nervous. All silent.

The boy stood behind Kovan, glancing around. Everyone looked older. More prepared. Confident.

He didn't even know his own name, age or anything for that matter.

"Just place your hand on the panel," Kovan said. "Scans your mana, syncs your record, spits out your results. Try not to fry it again."

The boy stepped forward.

Warm light bloomed under his palm.

[SYSTEM SCAN INITIATED…]

Mana Signature Detected.

Syncing…

Error.

Retrying…

Sync Complete. Displaying Results:

The screen flickered once. Glitched. Then steadied.

Name: Bren Fernsby

Age: 18

Rank: E

He stared at it.

The name didn't feel wrong. But it didn't feel right either. It was like wearing someone else's coat. It fit, but the sleeves were stiff and the scent wasn't his.

Bren.

He mouthed it. Testing it. Hoping it would feel like more than a label.

Next to him, Kovan slapped his hand onto the second panel.

Name: Kovan Grimm

Age: 21

Rank: B

"Still B," he muttered. "Figures. That last raid barely scratched the ceiling. Thought it'd bump me to A."

Bren offered a faint smile. Even he knew rankings didn't rise on wishful thinking.

Then suddenly, the air shifted.

Subtle but sharp. Like tension slicing silk.

A cold ripple spread through the hall.

Every head turned.

A man walked in.

Tall. Composed. Black coat with silver trim. Each step silent—yet heavier than sound. His presence swallowed the space like a void.

Even before someone whispered the name, Bren knew who he was...

Silas Vale.

Guildmaster of Forest Vale. One of the elite factions in the Western Circuit. Rumors followed him like shadows: tactician, ghost, executioner. A man known for decisions like blades—precise, final.

No one expected him here. Not for a basic recruit scan.

But here he was.

He moved like a sword sheathed in silence. Aides trailed behind with tablets and murmured data. Silas didn't speak much. Just nodded. Judged. Calculated.

He stopped in front of Kovan.

A nod.

But then... his gaze shifted.

To Bren.

He looked at the scan terminal. Then at the boy.

No visible reaction. No frown. No smile.

Just… awareness.

Bren felt it instantly.

His chest burned.

That same wrongness flared again, deep beneath his ribs, where the not-heart beat harder.

The air around him pulsed.

Mana stirred.

He wasn't sure if it was reacting to Silas…

…or to being seen.

Silas didn't blink. But something flickered in his eyes. 

Recognition? Doubt? Disbelief?

Gone before Bren could grasp it.

The whispers began.

"Did he just stop at an E?"

"Why's Silas looking at him?"

"Was that a glitch?"

Then...

"These two. Private evaluations," Silas said, already turning away.

One of his aides blinked. "Uh… the E-Rank? Sir, he'll tank our guild average. We'll drop to third—"

Silas looked at him like he'd spoken in tongues.

No further argument came.

Later that afternoon...

The private room was dim. Quiet. Mana lights pulsed slower. Faint shadows bled across the walls.

Kovan paced. "Guess I'm first. Don't get scouted while I'm gone, mystery man."

He vanished behind the door.

Bren waited. Legs bouncing. Hands twitching. The silence pressed harder than the walls.

Then the door opened.

"Bren Fernsby," an aide called.

He stepped inside.

Silas stood at the far end of the chamber. Hands behind his back. Posture rigid.

Eyes like razors.

"You remember nothing?" Silas asked.

Bren shook his head. "Bits. Flashes. Echoes of people I don't know. It's all… noise."

Silas nodded once. "Your scan triggered a surge in our artifact core. The mana it reacted to shouldn't exist. Not at E-Rank."

Bren opened his mouth.

No words came.

"I don't know fully what you are," Silas said, stepping closer. "But I know what you're not."

He turned away.

"You're coming with us."

An aide hesitated. "Sir, we should—"

"It's my decision," Silas cut in. "He's part of Forest Vale now."

Back in the main hall, Kovan stretched his arms like he'd won something.

"Ha! Nailed it. Guess we're guildmates now, huh?"

Bren offered a half-smile. It was all he could manage.

But inside, his thoughts twisted.

Why did Silas look at me like that?

Why did the system glitch when it read my mana?

And why… when I hear the name Bren Fernsby… does it feel less like a name—

…and more like the beginning of a question?

[SYSTEM UPDATE:]

New Designation Confirmed: [Guild Member – Forest Vale]

Syncing unique mana signature…

Anomaly Detected.

Error: Classification Mismatch.

Initializing Override Protocol…

[New Title Unlocked: ???]

Status: Pending Awakening