The teacher's demonstration was quick and efficient. He even passed the simulated Awakening Orb around so that the students could get a feel for it themselves.
There was still work to be done. Compressed food rations were distributed to the students—enough to last them ten days.
The most important aspect of awakening was simple: survival. If a student could find a safe place and make it back alive, their chances of successful awakening were high.
Even if they didn't awaken, surviving the experience was still considered a victory. With the compressed food, they wouldn't need to take unnecessary risks just to eat.
As preparations wrapped up, the classroom gradually fell into silence.
The moment of truth was approaching. The earlier excitement had faded, replaced by tension. Some students began to fidget, beads of sweat forming on their faces.
Seeing the unease on their faces, the homeroom teacher clapped his hands and said, "Alright, future Awakened! No need to be nervous. Pack up your gear. It's time to head out!"
At this point, there was no turning back. The state had invested a tremendous amount of resources. Backing out now wasn't just cowardice—it was a crime that led straight to prison.
The students followed the teacher out of the classroom.
He led them into a circular arena. It looked like a sports field, but instead of bleachers or tracks, it was filled with rows of small, windowless rooms.
As soon as Lucian Vale laid eyes on it, he knew—this was the Awakening Chamber.
He remembered reading about them in books. Each was a small, four-square-meter room, with thick cement walls, no windows, and only a heavy iron door for entry and exit.
Awakening was riddled with unpredictability. Most of the time, a person would be teleported into the Ethereal Plane and then ejected back into Aurelia. In some rare cases, when the person returned, they left behind a space rift—a portal between realms.
These rifts could grow or shrink over time. If the other side of the rift was deemed safe enough, the government would claim it.
Then they'd send in exploratory teams to scout the other side. If the environment proved stable, the rift became a resource goldmine.
That's how large Ethereal Plane military bases like those in Solsten were first discovered and secured.
Of course, if what lay beyond was too dangerous, the stationed military would destroy the rift with special equipment to prevent any threats from crossing into Aurelia.
Snapping back to the present, Lucian followed the teacher into his designated Awakening Chamber.
Once the staff shut the thick iron door behind him, Lucian scanned the tiny room.
In the center lay the Awakening Orb. Beside it, a short blade—standard issue. Nothing else.
The short blade wasn't a weapon meant for battle—it was a survival tool.
Ethereal Plane creatures were far stronger than any untrained teenager. If you could solve a problem with a short blade, you didn't need anything more. If you couldn't… well, no weapon would save you anyway.
Firearms didn't work in the Ethereal Plane. The laws of physics and chemistry were warped by the plane's unique magical properties. Guns were just fancy toys once you crossed over.
So a short blade would have to do. The students weren't expected to fight. Their goal was to survive—nothing more.
If they got unlucky and encountered hostile lifeforms, their fate was sealed, no matter what they carried.
Lucian took a moment to check over his backpack and gear, making sure everything was securely fastened and wouldn't fall off mid-transfer.
He slid the short blade into his belt, then bent down to pick up the Awakening Orb.
Holding it in his hands, Lucian couldn't help but fall into thought—his parents, his classmates, the part-time jobs he used to juggle. All of it flashed through his mind.
He took a deep breath.
I won't stay at the bottom forever.
With that conviction in his eyes, Lucian sat down on the floor and opened the orb.
A strange energy began to seep out. With every breath, he inhaled the magical essence of the Ethereal Plane.
Now came the waiting game. Once the Ethereal Plane had fully infected his body, it would seize him.
Lucian lay down in a comfortable position, still gripping the hilt of the short blade tightly.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed—maybe half an hour, maybe more—when suddenly, a space rift burst open behind him.
The suction force was overwhelming. It pulled him in with the ferocity of a collapsing star, scattering dust throughout the chamber before slamming shut.
…
Lucian didn't remember moving. One moment he was in the Awakening Chamber, the next he was somewhere else entirely.
The portal had spat him out like trash—and just like that, he was in the Ethereal Plane.
He crouched low and immediately checked his condition. Portals between Aurelia and the Ethereal Plane were notoriously unstable. Some people arrived in pieces. Literally.
He inspected his limbs and found nothing missing or broken. Good. Then he checked his backpack.
His heart dropped.
A clean gash had been sliced through the bottom of the pack. Half the contents were gone.
Lucian broke into a cold sweat.
If that slice had been aimed a few centimeters higher, it would've been me. Dead on arrival.
He calmed his nerves, then looked around.
It appeared to be a ruined city. The streets were cracked open by roots and vines that had forced their way through. Even the buildings were covered in thick greenery.
Lucian unsheathed his blade and began to move, crouching low and keeping his steps quiet.
He had no idea if the rift had made noise on arrival, so staying put was not an option.
For a few minutes, he crept forward, careful not to stray too far. The city seemed deserted, but he didn't dare let his guard down.
Eventually, he spotted a building that looked relatively intact and tiptoed inside.
The building was part of a street lined with similar structures, each around twenty or thirty meters tall.
Unfortunately, whatever civilization had once lived here had long since vanished. No signs, no language, nothing he could use to figure out where—or what—this place was.
Most of the doors in the building had been forced open, likely long ago.
One door remained locked, but even it wasn't whole—a jagged hole had been torn through its metal core.
Lucian crept closer to inspect it. The tear was irregular, the metal twisted like it had been shredded by claws.
Definitely not safe. But compared to walking the streets, this building was still his best option.
He kept climbing.
After a quick scout of the building's layout, he confirmed no signs of life—no movement, no sounds.
That was good enough, for now.
On the third floor, he found a room with its door ajar. The metal frame was still intact.
He slipped inside quietly and set down what was left of his backpack.
He tried to close the door, but it groaned loudly from age and rust. The sound was enough to freeze his blood.
Lucian left it slightly ajar, not risking further noise. With blade in hand, he advanced into the other rooms, alert for whatever might be lurking in the shadows.
…
Lucian Vale gently pushed open a slightly ajar wooden door. The room looked like a bedroom—there was an old, rickety wooden bed, complete with a mattress and bedding.
But the passage of time had not been kind. The bedding was filthy and torn beyond recognition. There was also a wardrobe. Lucian nudged the wardrobe door open with the tip of his short blade.
The clothes inside were just as decayed. When Lucian reached in and touched one lightly, it disintegrated in his fingers.
He slowly backed out of the room and turned to open the door to the next one.
The moment the door swung open, Lucian's heart skipped a beat.
A skeleton lay slumped against the opposite wall, directly across from the door.
Lucian instinctively held his breath, his grip on the short blade tightening.
He glanced at the skeleton, then at the blade in his hand—something about it didn't sit right with him. He quietly backed away.
Kneeling down, he opened his backpack and pulled out a red fire axe.
He had taken it from an old fire safety box at the base of his apartment complex back in Aurelia. After bringing it home, he had even sharpened the blade himself to ensure it was still lethal.
Sliding the short blade back into its sheath at his belt, Lucian stepped back into the room—this time, fire axe in hand.
He scanned the layout. It was nearly identical to the previous bedroom: a bed, a large wardrobe, and a bedside cabinet.
The skeleton was sprawled near the foot of the bed. Beneath it was a dark brown stain.
Could that be what remained after the corpse decomposed?
Lucian approached slowly and gave the skeleton a light prod with the edge of the axe. To his surprise, the skull detached and rolled to the floor with a hollow clatter.
He froze, standing completely still for several seconds before resuming his inspection.
The bones were faded black and gray, aged to the point of brittleness. No telling how long they'd been lying here.
Besides the skull, many of the rib bones had fallen apart. Lucian examined them closely and noticed several of them were cracked clean through.
Even stranger, the skeleton's leg bones were missing entirely. Only one of the arm bones was present—just a single hand, to be exact.
A disabled person…?
Suddenly, Lucian squinted, his stomach sinking. On one of the ribs, he spotted a mark—like teeth marks.
He picked up the rib and studied it carefully. They were bite marks. Human bite marks.
The thought hit him like a punch to the gut. Was this person… eaten? What else could explain the presence of human teeth marks on bare bone?
A cold chill crept down his spine.
The more he thought about it, the worse it got. When people gnawed on pork ribs, the teeth marks only showed because the meat had been cooked until tender.
So then… was this corpse cooked before being eaten? If not, whoever chewed through raw human bone must've used terrifying force to leave those kinds of marks.
Lucian exhaled sharply. Enough. Stop thinking about it. Whatever had happened here had happened long ago. Even if someone had eaten this person, they were probably long gone.
No point scaring himself any further.
Just to be safe, Lucian raised the axe and shattered the remaining skeleton. He knew that in some instances, undead like skeletal soldiers could reanimate.
Better to be safe than sorry.
He moved on to the last room. Thankfully, nothing unexpected this time. Just another rotted bed, no new skeletons.
Lucian brought his backpack into the deepest room and gave the space a once-over. Then he carefully dragged the nearly-collapsed sofa to the entrance.
The iron door couldn't be shut—it creaked like a dying animal with even the slightest push. Drawing attention was the last thing he needed.
The sofa would act as a light barrier. If something did break in, at least he'd have some warning—enough to die with dignity, if nothing else.
Finally, Lucian had a moment to check the contents of his backpack.
The bottom had been slashed open by the rift, and he still didn't know exactly what was missing.
Opening it, he let out a breath of relief.
Most of the vital supplies were intact. The items that had fallen out were the tent and some miscellaneous gear.
He had lost part of his food, but the survival kit that Veil had given him remained sealed and untouched.
Lucian pulled out the remaining rations and estimated his reserves. If he rationed carefully, he'd have just enough to make it through.
He gave the room a quick cleaning. The wooden bed and mattress were far too deteriorated to use—sleeping on them would be like lying on a trash heap.
He tossed them into the adjacent room, swept the floor, and prepared to sleep on the bare ground for the next few days.