He was trully confused of what is actually happened, his puzzled face was very clearly visible.

Not far from where he stood, a gentleman sat silently, his jaw held thoughtfully in his right hand. He wore fancy clothes and, strikingly, a crown upon his head. Next to him were two graceful lady: one appearing ten years older than Ren, the other is roughly his age or maybe younger?

Closer, a dozen robed strangers formed a silent perimeter, their faces mostly hidden by the deep folds of their robes.

A shaft of moonlight cut through the darkness, impaling a very large, colorful glass marble. It didn't just reflect the light; it seemed to swallow it in, then spit it back out as a beautiful, serene colors into the quiet room.

The chamber, circular, high-ceilinged, humming with unseen power. Felt more like a whole sacred palace than a room.

amidst a brief moment of calm, one whispered.

“He has no magic.”

Whispers rippled through the room, one voice after another rising abruptly.

“Another failed summoning?”

“No skill crest, no aura.”

“Send him to the Wasteland.”

“We have to try something different next time.”

“We should hire more people. Make a bigger summoning circle next time.”

Summon? Ren blinked, the word echoing in his mind.

And yet, no one asked if he agreed. No one cared if he wanted this.

This was nothing like what he knew. Back on Earth, 'summoning' usually meant paying real money to maybe get a five-star character.

But summoning a real person? That was something else entirely.

The whole situation felt unreal, something he never imagined would happen to him.

Questions flooded Ren’s mind, but he remained silent.

On the outside, he looked calm, unfazed, even. But inside, his thoughts were racing, his nerves stretched thin.

He was only pretending to be composed. In truth, he had no idea what was happening or what would happen next.

The older woman in an elegant red dress approached Ren with a graceful stride. As the blonde-haired lady drew nearer, a delicate scent of aromatic flower crawled through the air surround her.

“Before you ask anything, let me explain this in the simplest way,” she said, her voice calm but edged with fatigue. "This kingdom doesn't need a hero out of glory. We need one because the world itself is... unraveling.".

She stopped a few steps away from Ren, studying him. Not with judgment, but with the practiced gaze of someone who had learned to hope carefully.

“Not long ago, the seasons began to stutter. Rain fell when it shouldn’t. Time slips in places. Whole villages waking up a day too early, or too late. Monsters that should’ve stayed buried are stirring near the old fault lines. Magic itself is fading, thinning like breath in cold air. And the stones, the ones that keep the barriers sealed, are dying.”

Ren said nothing. His brow furrowed slightly, a thousand thoughts sparking behind his quiet eyes.

The woman’s voice lowered.

“Worse still, the Prophets have stopped dreaming… and the stars have begun to shift from their places.”

A silence followed. Not an awkward one, but the kind that follows news too big to fully grasp.

“This world…” she continued, “was built atop something ancient. Something that wants to wake. And in every age before collapse, the pattern is the same: the world calls out. Not to the strongest, not to the wisest, but to the ones who carry stillness in their bones.”

Her eyes met his. Unflinching, curious.

“And you,” she asked softly, “what is your hero’s name?”

He held her gaze. “Raden Arendra. Some friend called me Arendra or Ren.”

She tilted her head. “That name… it’s unfamiliar. Unlike the heroes recorded in our kingdom’s history they came from Earth.”

“I’m from Earth too”. Ren said, his voice steady.

Her brows lifted slightly. “I see. Then you must familiar of their name, the strongest heroes summoned before. Akitsuki Raien, Long Yanjun, Seo Jinhyuk. Their names are etched into our chronicles like legends.”

He gave a small nod. “Where I come from, the way someone is named often reflects their homeland. Each country has its own style.”

She smiled softly, a litthe amused. "Names shaped by their homeland... Fascinating."

A pause stretched between them. Then, with a gesture from the woman, the circle of robed figures stirred.

“The test,” the woman said, “is a formality. But it must be done.”

One of the robed figures stepped forward, carrying a shallow crystal ball filled with liquid silver. The surface shimmered. Less like water, more like something oily trapped inside the crystal.

“Step forward hero, and place your hand into the Crystal of Namu.” she instructed.

Ren hesitated, then complied. Put his right hand on top of the crystal, it felt neither hot nor cold. Just warm.

Silence filled the room.

No glow. No sigil. No flare of power or inscription etched into the air above him.

A hush fell over the room like snowfall.

The gentleman with the crown leaned forward, disappointment carved into the lines of his otherwise regal face. The younger lady looked away. The older lady's expression did not change but her shoulders dropped, almost unconsciously.

“Nothing,” one of the robed figures muttered.

“No affinity for every element.”

“No combat class registered.”

“No divine mark. No whisper from the Namu.”

“A Null,” someone said, the word falling like a gavel.

Ren’s jaw tightened, just slightly.

Null? Waste? As if I had asked to be dragged here in the first place.

“A waste of a summoning.”

There was no outrage. Just a silence too practiced to be called peace. As if they had long accepted that suffering was the down payment for a future that might never come.

Or maybe it will… in the future.

No one knows.