The shuttle rushed into an armored tunnel, plunging its passengers into momentary darkness before resurfacing into the light of the Awakening Center. Hakime held his breath.
The building was a huge dome of metal and tempered glass, of immaculate whiteness that contrasted violently with the working-class city. Complex symbols, similar to those of the Etheric Watches, were engraved in a spiral on the walls, pulsating with a faint blue glow. It was a sacred place, the antechamber of destiny for a whole generation.
Hundreds of sixteen-year-olds from all parts of Nova-Aeterna flocked to the main hall. Relative silence reigned, disturbed only by nervous whispers and the sound of footsteps on the ground smoothly. The eyes were lost towards the stage at the bottom, or towards the imposing awakening stone, a black crystal monolith veined with filaments of golden energy, which sat in the center of the room.
Hakime sneaked through the crowd, feeling the weight of the stakes. Here, the social hierarchies of the city were temporarily abolished. Heirs of large families, dressed in fine fabrics, met the sons of workers with calloused hands. All were equal in the face of the mystery of awakening.
A sounding, deep and vibrant gong echoed, imposing silence.
On the stage, Governor Sterling stepped forward. A middle-aged man, his face was a mask of gravity, hollowed out by responsibility. His voice, amplified by discreet loudspeakers, filled the dome.
"Young men of Nova-Aeterna," he began, his words falling like stones into a well. "Today, you stand on the threshold. Behind you, the childhood, the relative carelessness that we were able to offer you. Before you, the future of our species."
He looked around the crowd, his expression stern.
"The statistics are ruthless. Most of you will awaken a common rank. That's the reality. This is the foundation on which our society stands. Don't think of it as a failure. Every F-rank awakened person who holds a spear on the wall, every E-row who repairs a conduit, every D-row who heals a wound, is a hero. Their value is invaluable. They are the cement of our survival."
He paused, letting his words soak up.
"Some, a handful, will awaken higher ranks. Rare, legendary. Perhaps even... "His voice almost falters, as if he hardly dared to believe it." Mythical. We will ask them for more. More sacrifice, more courage, more life. Your strength will be a burden as well as a blessing."
His gaze became more intense. "Whatever your rank, remember this: you are the children of the Towers. You were born in their shadow. And it is up to you one day to shoot them. Whether by the strength of your arm, the power of your mind or the resistance of your heart."
The speech was sober, no frills. There were no promises of glory, only a reminder of the duty and fragility of their existence. Hakime listened to him, his heart tight but his resolution strengthened. Every word confirmed the correctness of his path.
The Governor then introduced the personalities sitting behind him. "They are here to observe the succession. The leaders of the city's most influential guilds." He pointed to a massive, slashed-faced man with folded arms: the leader of the Breisefer Guild, a stoic whose reputation as a fighter was legendary. Then a silver-haired, piercing-looking woman dressed in an elegant and functional outfit: the mistress of the Guild of Insightful Shadows, renowned for her strategies and her network of information. His smile was polished, but his eyes were already calculating, evaluating each face.
Then came the most impressive moment." And representing the Great Council, the permanent protector of our megalopolis, the Goddess of Flames... Michelle White."
The counselor stood up. No aura of fire surrounded him, but his mere presence emanated from such authority and power that the air seemed to charge. His glacial blue look swept through the audience. He landed for a moment on Hakime, as if he could feel the potential buried within him, and then continued. She didn't smile, simply nodding her head with an air that spoke volumes about the seriousness of the moment.
The Governor spoke again. "Let the ceremony begin. Let the names be called."
An officer stepped forward with a light tablet. The first names sounded. One by one, the teenagers approached the awakening stone, laid their hands on its cold surface, and saw their destiny sealed in a colorful glow.
"Rang F!"
"Rang E!"
"Rang D!"
Some "Rang C!" and a "Rang B!" whispered the crowd. Hakime watched every reaction, every hope broken or fulfilled. His turn was approaching. His stomach was knotted. Michelle White's look, distant and powerful, burned her back. The hour of her fate had come.