Morning came and went with the same half-hearted enthusiasm as everything else in Hugo's life.
The sky was clear, cars were honking, people were late — the usual rhythm of a world that had learned to coexist with chaos. Thirty years since the portals, humanity had adjusted. Monsters, hunters, awakeners — all just part of the morning news cycle now.
To everyone else, it was a world full of possibility.
To Hugo, it was just Tuesday.
He stood behind the convenience store counter, slouched in his apron, watching the register clock crawl toward the end of his shift. The steady hum of the refrigerators had become white noise — the background soundtrack to a life that wasn't really going anywhere.
The bell above the door chimed and a middle-aged man shuffled in, grabbed a soda, and dropped it on the counter.
Hugo scanned it without looking up.
"Two fifty."
Coins clinked. A mumbled "thanks." Hugo gave a mechanical smile, bagged the drink, and slid it across. Another transaction, another moment gone.
He'd been doing this for two months now — not because he liked the job, but because it was either this or listen to his mom cry about rent again. Minimum wage didn't feel so bad when it came with quiet.
The back door creaked open.
"Hugo! Done for the day?"
He turned.
Lily — his coworker, a morning person in a world that didn't deserve one. She had the kind of energy that made you believe life might still be worth it. Hugo found it admirable… and mildly exhausting.
"Yeah," he said, pulling off his apron.
She set her bag on the counter and smiled. "Did you take your token already?"
"Yeah." His smile didn't reach his eyes.
Lily's grin brightened. "Then good luck! You'll get something great, I can feel it."
He nodded, grabbed his hoodie, and waved halfheartedly as he pushed the door open.
"See you tomorrow!"
"Hopefully not," he muttered into the cool afternoon air.
The street buzzed — people heading home, students laughing, someone hawking half-price awakening charms. Hugo shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking.
He passed a house cordoned off with yellow tape. The concrete had been gouged, like something enormous had taken a cosmic ice-cream scoop to it.
Another spawn hole.
"Guess the spawn rate's getting worse," he murmured. He'd have to talk to his mom about moving — not that they could afford to.
The city gave way to quieter streets.
Thirty years ago, humanity's biggest problem had been politics. Simpler times.
Then everything went cosmic.
The sky had split open. Portals bled light and monsters poured out. Cities burned. People died. And then — as if the universe felt a little guilty — humanity awakened.
Some people could manifest powers tied to the elements — fire, water, light, shadow, and everything in between. They called them Affinities. Some turned into heroes. Some into disasters. Others just… learned they could boil water faster.
The government scrambled. Guilds rose. A new hierarchy was born.
Now, on your eighteenth birthday, you received a Token — a government-issued slip that decided your future. Tear it, and your Affinity awakened. Some got legendary powers. Others didn't.
Hugo knew which side he was on.
Home was a small single-story house squeezed between two larger ones, the garden fence leaning tiredly to one side. He pushed open the door.
"Mom?"
Silence.
He sighed and headed downstairs to the basement — his personal kingdom of dust and secondhand furniture. A gaming chair missing a wheel. A bed that complained whenever he moved. On the desk, a small cake with a crooked candle and a note:
Happy 18th, honey! Will be back late tonight. Love, Mom.
He smiled faintly — somewhere between touched and tired.
After a quick wash, he sat on the edge of his bed and took out the token.
A simple silver rectangle, glowing faintly — trying too hard to look mysterious.
"Here goes nothing."
The token tore easily, like cheap paper.
Light scattered through the air before fading into nothing. A translucent interface blinked into existence — familiar to everyone his age, but surreal to finally see in person.
[Scanning…]
[Host identified: Hugo Cole]
[Scanning lifeline…]
[Elemental ability located…]
His heart gave a reluctant thump.
Maybe—
[High level of water affinity located]
[Water Affinity unlocked: D-Grade]
He stared for a while, then sighed.
"Of course."
A D Grade. The kind of power used for watering plants or making fancy ice cubes. The government barely acknowledged them. He'd basically unlocked the ability to be useless in a more creative way.
He wasn't even angry — just… resigned.
What hurt was imagining his mom's face when she'd hear. She'd hoped he'd get something good.
Something that could pull them out of this misery.
"Sorry, Mom," he murmured, lying back. "Guess we're sticking with mediocrity a little longer."
He closed his eyes, ready to sleep off the disappointment — already picturing the pitying smiles and the endless 'at least you awakened something'.
But before he could close his eyes, the interface flickered to life again.
He frowned. "What now?"
The air chilled all of a sudden, the hum deepened, static crawling under his skin.
[Scanning…]
'Another scan? I haven't heard of this before.'
[Thread located…]
[Beginning procedures…]
[Placing anchor…]
The interface glitched, warping the light in the room.
[Randalf the Lich Monarch is requesting permission to enter.]
Hugo blinked.
"…Who the hell is Randalf?"