Chapter 1: PROLOGUE
✨ PROLOGUE: "Wings Without Sky"
Before the Spirits, before the Trials, there was only one rule:
Obey your System, or be broken by it.
Mia Everhart was seventeen when her body gave out—lungs too weak, dreams too heavy, abandoned in a sterile hospital room while the world forgot her. A failed artist. An orphan. Another number on a chart.
But fate isn't always silent.
When she opened her eyes again, it was to a blinding shrine of light—and a voice that spoke not of death, but of rebirth.
"System Activated: Virtue Spirit summoning in progress..."
Instead of being granted a majestic Guardian, Mia was given… a fragment. A single, flickering feather. A Broken Wing.
Laughed out of the Summoning Halls.
Mocked by Spirit Scholars.
Ignored by guilds, advisors—even other Spirits.
But Mia looked at that dying wing and whispered: "I see you."
And the System blinked.
Now, as trials mount, alliances crumble, and hidden codes fracture—Mia and her broken bond may be the only hope in a world built on perfection… and broken by emotion.
"System Alert: Unknown Command Accepted.
Initiating Rewrite..."
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Chapter 1: The Spirit with No Wings
She died with no one holding her hand.
Mia Lancaster's final breath had tasted of disinfectant and despair. The hospital ceiling—yellowed, flickering—was the last thing her eyes saw. No farewells. No flowers. Just silence and stats on a monitor that flatlined without ceremony.
Then came light.
Blinding. Cold. Endless.
She gasped, choking on air that didn't belong to Earth. Her body, once frail and aching, now pulsed with energy both foreign and alive. Mia sat upright, heart pounding like war drums, as her gaze adjusted to a hall of pure gold.
Pillars soared into mist. Sigils of light floated midair, spiraling in ancient code. It wasn't a dream. This was something far older, far stranger.
A voice echoed—not aloud, but inside her skull. Smooth, synthetic, and final:
> "System Activation Complete.
Soul Node: Synced.
Welcome to Virtura, Mia Lancaster.
Your Spirit Awakening begins now."
Her breath caught. I'm... reborn?
In front of her, light swirled into form—a glowing cocoon crackling with data strings. Mia braced herself. She'd seen this in stories. This was the moment every reborn hero awakened a divine beast or holy guardian. This was her second chance.
The cocoon burst open.
What emerged was... a feather.
Just one. Pale. Flickering. Burnt at the edges. It drifted into her hands like dying snow.
Then, the announcement came:
> "[Virtue Spirit Assigned: Broken Wing]
Rank: F- (Sealed)
Bond Resonance: 1%
Abilities: None unlocked."
The silence in the shrine shattered with laughter—not from Spirits, but students.
Other initiates stood watching, their Spirits glowing proudly behind them—fiery lions, crystalline serpents, radiant blades. And there she stood, clutching a half-dead feather.
"Oh, poor thing," a voice rang out, sugary and cruel. "Her Spirit isn't even broken. It's worthless."
The crowd parted for a girl with golden hair and eyes like sharpened glass. Her robes shimmered with the crest of House Auren.
Selene Auren.
Mia blinked, the feather trembling in her grasp. "It's... not worthless."
Selene smirked. "You're holding trash, orphan. Just like on Earth, you've been rejected by the System. It sees weakness. So do we."
The laughter returned, sharper this time. Mia lowered her gaze, fingers clenching around the feather. Shame burned behind her eyes. She had been given a miracle—and it mocked her.
But then... something stirred.
Soft as breath, a whisper coiled around her thoughts. Gentle, defiant.
> "Trash can rise… if you teach it how to fly."
Her eyes widened. It had spoken. Broken Wing had spoken.
Selene tilted her head. "What? Is your feather talking to you, peasant?"
Mia met her gaze—not with tears, but fire. "Better a Spirit that speaks truth... than one that flatters lies."
Gasps rippled. Selene's smile froze.
And in the far shadows of the shrine, hidden behind golden screens and glowing glyphs, a figure watched. Silver-haired. Cold-eyed. His arms folded, expression unreadable.
Adrian Kael Thorne.
He said nothing. But his gaze lingered on Mia's feather. His eyes narrowed. Just slightly.
Something about this girl... didn't fit the pattern.
---
The laughter didn't fade. It followed Mia like a shadow as she stepped down from the shrine's platform, feather still clutched in her trembling hands. Every footstep echoed across polished floors, loud against the suffocating judgment in the air.
She had been reborn in a realm beyond Earth's reach. A world where strength was measured in Spirits. And hers was broken from the start.
Light shimmered beside her shoulder. The air vibrated gently, and a transparent screen blinked to life in front of her, filled with glowing blue data lines.
> [System Interface Online]
User: Mia Lancaster
Virtue Spirit: Broken Wing
Rank: F minus
Status: Sealed
Bond Resonance: One percent
Abilities: None unlocked
Soul Credits: Zero
The screen pulsed once, as if even it was embarrassed.
Behind her, the group of initiates continued whispering, their voices sharp.
"She's a waste of a slot."
"They should've let her stay dead."
"I heard Spirits like that glitch out and vanish. Maybe she's cursed."
Mia didn't turn. Her chest felt too tight to breathe properly, but she forced herself to stare at the screen. To study the ugly truth of her new beginning.
One percent.
No abilities.
F minus.
Even her name looked out of place on that perfect interface, like someone had scribbled on glass with chalk.
The feather in her hand gave off a faint warmth. Barely there, but enough that her fingers stopped shaking. She lifted it slowly, as if handling something fragile and sacred. It didn't glow. It didn't spark. But when she held it near her chest, a second, smaller line of text flickered beneath her Spirit name.
> "Connection recognized. Emotional Pathway viable."
No one else saw it. Just her.
Mia swallowed hard. The System might have mocked her. The crowd might have spat venom. But something deep inside that feather still breathed. Still believed.
Before she could linger on it, a hand shoved her from behind. She stumbled forward and caught herself just before falling onto the steps. More laughter erupted.
Selene's voice was syrupy sweet. "Oops. I thought you were one of the cleaning bots."
Mia stood upright without responding. She wouldn't cry. Not again. Not here.
But the screen beside her updated suddenly. A single chime rang out, audible to everyone nearby.
> "Bond Registered. Spirit Synchronization: One point two percent."
The laughter stopped. Confused murmurs spread.
Someone near the front frowned. "Wait... she actually bonded with that thing? Already?"
Bond Resonance didn't usually shift until weeks into training. A first sync on day one was rare. With a broken-ranked Spirit? Unheard of.
Selene's eyes narrowed. She glanced at her own gleaming Spirit—a silver-winged falcon that hovered at her side—and then back at Mia.
"That thing is probably glitching. I wouldn't celebrate over numbers on a broken UI."
Still silent, Mia tilted her head slightly. Just enough to let her lavender eyes meet Selene's gold.
"It synced," she said softly. "Because I listened."
Selene's expression cracked for the first time, just a twitch. The moment passed quickly, masked behind a fake smile. But Mia had seen it. A crack in the perfect porcelain mask.
A sharp whistle broke the tension.
A guide Spirit—a floating orb of polished chrome and violet light—descended from the ceiling and blinked twice.
"Initiation candidates, report to Trial Chambers," it intoned. "Your First Spirit Path Assessment begins in one hour. Prepare."
As the crowd began to disperse, Mia turned back toward the center of the shrine, where her Spirit had first emerged.
It was gone now. The feather no longer floated in the air, but the warmth remained at her core. A faint heat nestled just below her heart, quiet and steady.
She whispered to the silence.
"I'm not trash. And you're not broken. We'll fly, even if we have to build our own sky."
And deep within the echoing walls of that ancient shrine, a pulse of unread code shivered beneath the System's control.
Unseen.
Undocumented.
Waiting.
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Results generated by this GPT are Text-based & limited by ChatGPT, but you can use Originality.ai to Detect Plagiarism & AI Content
Thanks for the boost. Continuing strong with emotional depth and immersive flow.
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The Trial Chambers were a cathedral of judgment.
Vaulted ceilings arced into a sky-painted dome, glowing with simulated constellations. Spirit glyphs rotated slowly across the walls, ancient and unreadable. Rows of initiates lined up beneath towering statues of former Spirit Champions, their eyes hollow but their presence overwhelming.
Mia stood near the edge of the last group, her hands folded, her breath steady. She felt small among them, not just in presence but in spirit. Their Spirits floated or strode proudly beside them—swords of flame, beasts of armor, shields shaped from moonlight. Her own Spirit had retreated inside her core, silent since the shrine.
The guide Spirit orb from earlier pulsed violet and descended over the platform.
"First Trial: Simulated Combat and Spirit Sync Efficiency," it announced. "You will be dropped into the Mirror Glade. Conditions mimic real Spirit terrain. Goal: reach the Exit Beacon while maintaining Spirit Link. Time Limit: fifteen minutes."
Several initiates cracked their knuckles, excited. A few summoned their Spirits fully, cloaking themselves in blazing auras or manifesting weapons laced with their bond energy.
Mia didn't move. She had nothing to summon. Nothing to activate. Just the faint hum inside her chest where Broken Wing now rested.
The platform shifted beneath her feet.
Without warning, light swallowed her. The Trial began.
She landed hard.
The Mirror Glade was a twisted, shimmering landscape. Trees of reflective bark. Pools that rippled with not water but memory. Everything looked like a dream trapped in a kaleidoscope. Too bright. Too clean.
She stumbled to her feet. No instructions. No hints. Just find the beacon. Survive.
A crackle echoed to her left.
She turned in time to see Selene emerging from the brush, her falcon Spirit circling above her like a storm.
"Well," Selene said, brushing a strand of gold hair behind her ear, "what a coincidence. Looks like we're on the same path."
Mia frowned. "They said the Trial was random."
Selene's smile was razor thin. "Nothing in the System is random if you know the right people."
Before Mia could reply, the falcon Spirit dived. Not at her—but at the path ahead.
The trail collapsed. Trees snapped. The only clear route to the beacon now flooded with Spirit fog, a blinding field that disrupts lower-ranked Spirits completely.
Sabotage.
Mia stumbled back as the fog surged toward her. She held her breath, heart racing.
Selene stepped sideways, untouched by the fog. Her falcon guided her through like a compass.
"Some advice," Selene called sweetly. "Just give up. The System doesn't reward sympathy."
Mia clenched her fists. Around her, the fog closed in like a living thing, warping light and sound.
Then, something flickered in her vision. A new screen.
> [Bond Fluctuation Detected]
Warning: Spirit Signal Disrupted
Remaining Link Strength: One percent
Advice: Emotional resonance required for stabilization
She reached inward. Not for strength. Not for power. But for the feeling from before.
That moment in the shrine. The whisper. The warmth.
She closed her eyes and whispered, "I'm not leaving you. I don't care what they see. I believe in you."
A pulse answered.
Not loud. Not bright.
But real.
The fog hesitated.
Then cleared.
Not all of it, but enough for her to step forward. A sliver of space opened like a path drawn by invisible hands.
She walked through, carefully, guided not by sight but by trust.
Behind her, far across the glade, a figure on a glass outcrop watched. Silver-haired. Silent.
Adrian Kael Thorne said nothing.
But when the System flickered, and a strange code began to overlay Mia's Spirit trail, he leaned forward ever so slightly.
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