The echo of shoes clicked sharply against the wooden floor of the school theater.
A man approached the microphone—his presence immediately commanding. He looked like a warrior from another age. Long white hair cascaded past his shoulders, framing a sharply cut jawline and pale, unyielding skin. Everything about him—his stance, his gaze, his silence—spoke of authority and power.
He tapped the mic once. A faint echo bounced back.
"Graduates," he began, his voice steady and clear. "I am Seren Aurel. Night Watcher. Warden of the Gate."
The room was silent. The students, all seated in tight rows, didn't wear the joy one might expect from a graduation. Instead, fear flickered in their eyes. Tension hung in the air like smoke.
"Today," Seren continued, "is the Lumen Trial. A measure of your inner energy."
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle.
"Will you be chosen for the Aetherion Division... or the Dominion Cadre?" His voice grew sharper. "Let us begin."
He stepped back.
Hearts pounded. Students fidgeted in their seats, not just wary of the outcome—but of what that outcome meant. The Lumen Trial didn't merely assign you a path. It determined your worth. Your future. How the world would see you.
One by one, students were called forward. Each stood within a circle of glowing runes etched into the stage floor, centered around the ancient relic.
When a student's essence met the relic's touch, it responded—not with a reveal of current strength, but of potential. The Luminal Shards stirred, rising into the air, aligning themselves in geometric formation. A beam of light—brilliant blue—shot upward, forming a radiant sigil above the student's head.
"Congratulations, you have been accepted into the Aetherion Division."
One by one, students took their place within the circle. Some received the coveted light of Aetherion. Others, the quiet shadow of Dominion. A few celebrated. Many left the stage with hollow eyes and clenched jaws.
And then—it was his turn.
Cael.
He stepped into the runes, hair tousled and wavy, partly veiling his eyes. His heart thudded—but his face betrayed nothing. It wasn't arrogance. It was indifference. He did not care where they placed him.
Seren tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes at the boy.
The relic responded—but only with stillness of its own.
The shards hovered, unmoving. A faint, dull blue glow emanated from them—soft and muted, like a breath that never quite came. Then the Noctis Ember, the heart of the relic, dimmed. A brief flicker of shadow spilled across the stage.
No sigil. No sound.
The air thickened. Cold. Final.
"Congratulations. You are assigned to the Dominion Cadre."
Cael exhaled, long and quiet. No joy. No sorrow. Just a nod.
He stepped down from the circle, disappeared into the crowd like fog in the wind.
But Seren's eyes didn't follow the next student.
They remained locked on Cael—long after he was gone.
After the final name was called, the stage emptied, and silence briefly reigned. Then, the principal stepped forward, his formal robes sweeping lightly across the floor.
"Congratulations, everyone," he began, his voice warm but formal. "To all who awakened, and to all future members of the Dominion Cadre—good luck, and work harder. Both Aetherion and Dominion will work side by side in the service of our nation, united as Night Watchers. So I urge all of you: strengthen your power, hone your skills, and rise. You are the future. The guardians. The saviors of our country."
He stepped back with a curt nod. Polite applause followed, slow and half-hearted, like the echo of obligation.
Cael stood from his seat and made his way toward the doors of the theater, blending into the tide of students. The graduation was over. The Lumen Trial had ended.
A new chapter had begun—not as a student, but as a member of the Dominion Cadre.
Laughter rang nearby.
"Oh my god, I'm so happy!" squealed a girl. "I can't wait to start learning how to use my power!"
Her friends squeaked in agreement, buzzing with joy. Cael didn't glance back. He exhaled and kept walking, expression unmoved. Was he jealous? No. Just... annoyed.
He hated noise.
"Excuse you," a voice interrupted, firm and sharp. A baton gently blocked his path.
Cael looked up.
"Would you come with me?" the man asked.
Cael blinked, trying to recall. His memory wasn't the best, but he recognized that white hair, the eyes that seemed to see too much. Seren Aurel.
With a faint nod, Cael complied. He didn't ask questions. He just wanted to go home.
Seren led him through the quiet halls of the academy, eventually stopping at an unused classroom. Inside stood an old man in long robes—no, not just a man. A mage. His presence pulsed with a different energy, ancient and still.
The mage glanced at Seren, who responded with a nod. The mage nodded back.
Cael frowned slightly. Are they... talking without speaking?
"May I see your hand, young one?" the mage asked gently.
Cael hesitated, then extended his hand. The mage grasped it lightly, eyes closing, head beginning to sway slowly—left, right, forward, back—as though listening to a sound only he could hear.
Minutes passed.
Cael sighed. "Give up. I don't have anything."
The old man's eyes opened. Calm. Certain. "Yes, you're right. You don't have any."
Cael pulled his hand back. "Can I go now?"
Seren watched him in silence. After a moment, he waved him off.
Without another word, Cael turned and walked out. The door clicked shut behind him.
Seren sank into the teacher's desk, brows furrowed, a weight pressing on his chest.
"What's bothering you?" the mage asked.
"Is that boy truly powerless? You couldn't feel anything? Not even a trace of qi?"
The old man folded his hands, thoughtful. "No. I saw nothing. Just darkness. But not the kind born from hatred or vengeance... It was deeper. Quieter. Cold." He looked toward the door Cael had exited through. "That child carries a silence I've only seen in those who've endured too much. And he barely shows emotion. Not apathy—just... exhaustion."
Seren rubbed his temples. "Why did I even ask you? The Luminal Scan already gave us the answer."
The mage smiled faintly. "You didn't want confirmation. You wanted to be wrong."
Seren exhaled, stood, and headed for the door. "Forget it. I'll be going now."
The old man remained, watching Seren disappear down the hall.
"You must have seen it too..." he whispered.
As Cael walked away from the classroom, he glanced down at his palm.
Empty. Still. Silent.
He had always known—no qi flowed through him. And to him, that was fine.
Better, even.
"You better get home quick," a guard by the gate called out. "Sky's getting dark."
Cael gave a faint nod and continued on.
"I don't care, bro—I'm running home. Safety first!" a student shouted with a laugh, dashing past him. His friends followed, their laughter echoing as they ran off into the distance.
Cael watched them vanish down the road, the corners of his mouth twitching faintly—not quite a smile, not quite a frown. Just indifference.
The air grew colder with each step. He eventually reached the bus stop. A small waiting shed stood under a flickering streetlamp, surrounded by silence. The road was empty—no cars, no chatter, no hum of life.
Did everyone already get home? he wondered, staring out at the horizon. The sky wasn't fully dark yet, but it was close. That deep, bluish tint before night truly settles in.
A soft sound broke the quiet—wheels on pavement. He turned.
A bus was approaching.
Relief fluttered in his chest. Finally.
The bus stopped, hissing softly as the doors folded open. He stepped forward and lifted a foot to board—
—and froze.
His breath hitched.
His heart pounded.
The moment his eyes met the scene inside, his body refused to move.
An elderly woman, blood-soaked and trembling, looked straight at him.
"H-Help... m-me..."
She barely choked the words out before her head jerked, twisted by the thing latched onto her neck.
A monster—no other word for it. Its skin was gray and pulled tight against its frame. Its teeth, long and jagged, were buried in her throat. Blood streamed down her chest and onto the floor.
Behind them: lifeless bodies, slumped in their seats. A few scattered on the ground. The stench of iron hung thick in the air.
"Grrrrrrr..."
A low, guttural growl escaped from deep within the creature's throat.
Then—
Its head snapped toward him.
Eyes locked.
It saw him.
Cael's body caught up with his fear.
He ran.
No thoughts. No plan. Just instinct.
He ran with everything he had, the sound of his heartbeat pounding louder than his footsteps.
Ran as if death itself was behind him.
Because it was.