Dave was about to start his first push-up when a loud knock echoed through the room.
"Dave Snyder! Time to move!" a voice barked.
He sighed quietly, throwing on his jacket. Today marked the beginning of his mandatory three-year training at the military academy. Every sixteen-year-old had to go — ability or not.
Outside, a transport bus waited. About fifty students were already seated — some chatting excitedly, others staring out the windows, dread in their eyes. Dave quietly took a seat at the back. No one noticed him, and he was fine with that.
After an hour of bumpy roads and silent tension, the bus stopped at a wide, flat airfield. Students looked around in confusion — until a massive, sleek military ship descended before them. Its surface shimmered with tech far beyond civilian reach, like something from a sci-fi epic.
One by one, they boarded.
The inside was packed. Not crowded — packed. What had started as fifty students was now nearly a thousand. The noise died quickly. There were no windows, no visible pilots. Just walls of smooth, dark metal. A low hum vibrated through the hull.
Then the ship moved.
Outside — if there even was an outside — all they could see was black.
Time warped. Minutes stretched. Some students whispered; others stared in silence.
Finally, the hum softened. A hiss echoed through the chamber. The doors slid open.
Gasps filled the air.
The academy wasn't a school — it was a city. Towering skyscrapers loomed in every direction. Training domes glowed. Weapon halls buzzed with energy. Dormitories stretched as far as the eye could see beneath a shimmering sky filled with faint holograms.
It was like stepping into a futuristic battlefield.
Students broke into small groups — some showing off sparks of flame or ripples of water, a flicker of lightning or gusts of wind. Others watched in awe or envy.
Dave stood alone, hands buried in his jacket pockets.
He still had nothing.
Then the ground trembled.
A stone platform erupted from the center plaza, rising with force. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a black military coat stepped onto it. Silver badges lined his chest. His presence silenced the crowd.
"I am General Varric," his voice thundered. "Welcome to the Human Federation Military Academy."
The square went dead silent.
"This academy exists for one reason: to make you stronger. Not just for yourselves — but for humanity. There are enemies beyond our borders — not just vampires… but others. And if we remain weak, we will die."
His gaze swept across them like a storm.
"You will now proceed to the training grounds, where your strength, speed, agility, and ability will be assessed. Your scores will determine your starting level: from Level 1 to Level 7. That rank will decide everything — where you sleep, what you eat, what weapons you train with… and how long you survive."
The students shifted nervously. Excitement and anxiety crackled like static in the air.
"Move out!"
Massive gates creaked open ahead. The crowd surged forward.
Dave followed in silence, heart pounding.
He didn't have an ability.
He didn't even have decent stats.
The training hall was colossal — more like a high-tech arena. Walls lined with glowing screens. Dozens of sleek machines stood across the floor, pulsing with soft blue light.
Military instructors stood like statues before each station.
General Varric raised his voice again.
"You will be tested in four areas: Strength. Speed. Agility. Ability."
He pointed to a reinforced punching pad, circuits glowing across its surface.
"Strength test: Hit the target with everything you've got."
Then a glowing track embedded in the floor.
"Speed test: A sprint. Your acceleration and top speed will be measured."
Next, a narrow, shifting platform laced with hovering laser beams.
"Agility test: Dodge. Navigate the course. Touch a laser — you're scored lower."
Lastly, he turned to a massive field split into floating cubes, each projecting a moving hologram.
"Ability test: Use your gift to strike the target. If you have no ability…"
He paused, and silence fell.
"...then you'll be scored on instinct alone."
Some students grinned — sparks already dancing across their palms. Others swallowed hard.
Dave said nothing.
He had no power.
Just a strange system he barely understood.
"Begin!" Varric barked.
The students were split into groups of twenty. One by one, they approached the machines.
Punches slammed into targets. Screens flashed scores: 23… 28… 34.
Applause. Cheers. Laughter.
Then it was Dave's turn.
He stepped to the strength machine. The screen blinked:
> [Name: Dave Snyder]
[Ability: None Detected]
[Status: Ready – Strike When Ready]
He clenched his fist. Focused. Swung.
BANG!
The screen blinked.
> Strength Score: 10
Snickers rippled behind him.
"Even the machine feels bad for him," someone whispered.
Next: speed. He crouched. The countdown beeped.
He ran.
Stumbled at the start. Regained balance mid-run.
> Speed Score: 10
Just awful.
Agility. He moved through the shifting platforms.
Laser. Zap.
> Agility Score: 10
Laughter again. This time louder.
"Bro's trying to break a record for lowest score."
Final test. Ability.
He stepped into the square.
> [No Ability Detected]
[Attempt Anyway?]
→ YES
A glowing orb flickered into view, floating midair.
Dave watched it.
Then grabbed a nearby training staff — and hurled it.
Missed.
> Instinct Score: 15
He stepped back.
Tests over.
The holographic leaderboard lit up above the arena.
Students buzzed as their names were ranked.
Level 2.Level 3. Level 4. Level 5. Even a handful of Level 6s.
Then came the bottom ranks.
> Dave Snyder –Level 1
And 8 more students Level 1
Lowest possible.
More whispers.
"A Level 1 with no ability?"
"Dead man walking."
"He'll be beast chow by week two."
Dave clenched his fists.
He felt small. Useless. Weak.
But then — a soft chime echoed in his mind.
> [System Notification]
Daily Quests Pending:
– 30 Push-ups
– 3km Run
– 20 Sit-ups
Reward: +1 to All Stats
He stared ahead.
He would do them.
Every quest. Every day.
He had no talent.
No power.
But he had a system — and he would make it count.