The only sound in the small room was the steady beep of the heart monitor. Slow. Too slow for my taste. The screen's greenish light illuminated my mother's pale face. She was sleeping, but her sleep was anything but restful. Her brows were slightly furrowed, as if she were struggling even in her dreams.
With a simple blink, a light-blue window appeared in my field of vision. The interface everyone had since the Explosion. I didn't look at my own status. I knew it by heart. Useless. I chose to focus on the small icon next to my mother's name.
[Name: Kang Seo-Yeon]
[Condition: Chronic Cellular Disintegration (CCD)]
[Stability: Weak]
I clenched my fist. Those three lines were my obsession, my prison. The numbers from the medical bills ran through my head. I worked after school, taking any odd job I could find, but it was never enough. Just enough to keep that "Weak" from turning into "Critical."
My eyes fell on the envelope resting on the nightstand. White, with the blue and gold logo of Apex Academy. My acceptance letter. My only chance. My worst nightmare.
They had accepted me. Not for my grades, which were merely average. They had accepted me because of it.
My right hand opened by reflex. A slight distortion in the air, and a black dagger appeared in my palm. It was cold, smooth, and reflected no light. An F-rank ability. Summoning a simple object. It looked more like an antique than a life-changing weapon.
Yet, I looked at my mother's face, then at the envelope, and finally at the useless dagger in my hand.
There was no other choice. This had to work.
I made the dagger disappear. A barely audible whisper escaped my lips.
"I'm going, Eomma."
I gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She didn't move. Our small apartment was silent except for the beeping of the machine. As I left the room, I took one last look at the old wallpaper and the worn-out furniture. It was all I had ever known.
My backpack was light. There wasn't much to pack. A few clothes, a toothbrush, and the Apex envelope. I closed the door behind me without a sound.
The cool morning air hit my face. The world outside always seemed louder, more alive. At the bus stop, a man in a suit was reading his newspaper, hovering a few inches off the ground thanks to a slight ripple of air beneath his feet. No one paid him any mind. It had become normal.
A little further away, a student in another high school's uniform was playfully making small flames dance above her palm while waiting for the bus. She was laughing with her friend, whose hair subtly changed color with every laugh.
I looked down at my own empty hands.
Their powers were visible, almost a part of them. Mine was just a cold object I could make appear and disappear. Nothing more.
The bus arrived, its doors opening with a hiss. Destination: Apex Academy.
I walked up the steps, my stomach in knots. I didn't feel like I was heading toward a bright future. I felt like I was walking into the lion's den.
The bus continued on its way. The scenery outside the window slowly changed. The familiar streets of my neighborhood, with their slightly old-fashioned shops and brick buildings, gave way to wider avenues. The buildings were taller, cleaner. Made of glass and steel.
I wasn't the only one heading to Apex. A few other students had gotten on along the way. Their uniforms were impeccable, and they were talking loudly, laughing, already discussing rankings and the upcoming "Draft." A thin, almost invisible aura seemed to emanate from them. An aura of confidence.
I made myself smaller in my seat, my gaze fixed on my knees. I wasn't one of them. I was an impostor with a ridiculous power and worn-out clothes.
"Terminus. Apex Academy."
The bus's robotic voice startled me. My stomach tightened even more. I grabbed my bag and got off, following the others.
And there I saw it.
The academy wasn't a school. It was a fortress. A massive campus, surrounded by a white wall that seemed to touch the clouds. The main gate was a giant metal structure, guarded by agents in high-tech uniforms.
Hundreds of students were already crowding the entrance, passing one by one through scanners that read their chips. They all looked like they belonged in this world. Children of rich families, geniuses, raw talents scouted from all over the country.
And me. The guy hoping his useless dagger could pay hospital bills.
I took a deep breath. The air felt different here. Heavier. I tightened the strap of my bag and took a step forward. Then another. Toward the gate. Toward the lion's den.
The line moved slowly. The boy just ahead of me passed through the gate. A blue light swept over his body. A clear, crisp beep sounded. A synthetic voice announced: "Kim Min-Jun. Rank B. Validated."
The guard nodded, looking almost bored. It was routine for him.
Then it was my turn. I stepped forward, my heart pounding in my chest. I felt like everyone was watching me. The guard barely glanced at me.
"Name," he grunted, not looking up from his terminal.
"Kang Ji-Hoon."
I walked under the scanner. The blue light felt colder, more invasive than it had for the others. There was a silence. No loud, confident beep. Just a small, almost disappointed "click."
The guard finally looked up at his screen. A corner of his lip lifted in a mocking smile.
"Rank F, huh? Don't see many of those. Have fun." His voice was full of contempt. He turned to the person behind me before I could even respond. "Next!"
I was through. I was standing inside the walls of Apex.
The campus was even more impressive from this side. Perfect lawns, futuristic buildings, and students moving with an energy I completely lacked. Holographic arrows floated in the air, pointing in a single direction:
"Main Amphitheater – Draft Ceremony."
My throat dry, I started walking. My humiliation was only just beginning.
The amphitheater was immense. Bigger than any concert hall I'd seen on TV. Thousands of seats rose in tiers toward a ceiling so high it was lost in shadow. Down below was a huge stage with a podium and several giant screens.
It was already packed. An ocean of black uniforms and young faces, all buzzing with palpable energy. The air was so thick with Aura it felt like wading through water. A constant pressure on my skin. It was suffocating.
I didn't know where to go. No one looked at me, no one spoke to me. I was invisible. I hugged the wall, looking for a place where I could blend into the background. Instinctively, my gaze turned toward the back rows, the highest ones.
As I climbed the stairs, a student with bright orange hair, engrossed in his conversation, bumped my shoulder. Hard enough that I momentarily lost my balance. He didn't even turn around.
I found an empty seat at the very top, in the last row. Completely alone. From up there, the other students were just small figures. I could finally breathe a little easier.
I sat down, placing my bag on my lap like a shield. I watched the crowd below. All that power. All that confidence. I was a drop of water in an ocean of fire.
Suddenly, the lights in the hall dimmed. A silence fell over the crowd. On the stage, the podium was lit by a single white spotlight.
The Draft was about to begin.
A man in a white suit walked onto the stage. He was neither young nor old. He had a presence that instantly silenced everyone. His eyes scanned the crowd, as if he could see every single student, even me, all the way at the top.
"Welcome to Apex," he said. His voice wasn't loud, but it filled the entire amphitheater. He didn't even need a microphone.
"Look around you. You are the elite of your generation. The strongest, the most promising. But a promise is worthless without proof."
He paused, letting his words hang in the air.
"Your journey begins now. With the Draft. This is not a test. It is a declaration. You will come up on this stage, one by one, and show us what you can do. Your performance will determine your initial ranking. That ranking will define your classes, your resources, your future here."
A murmur of excitement swept through the crowd below. It was a competition. A competition that started on day one.
My heart skipped a beat. Get on stage? In front of everyone? And show them my useless dagger? I wanted to run. To disappear. To go back to my little apartment and pretend this letter had never arrived.
But the image of my mother's face came back to me. I couldn't leave.
The man on stage smiled. It was not a kind smile.
"Let us begin."
The giant screen behind him lit up. A name appeared in fiery letters. It wasn't mine.