CHAPTER ONE: THE BOY IN SECTOR 31
Snow fell gently over Arcion City, each flake glowing faintly under the reflection of hovering cars gliding through the misty skyline. The streets shimmered with neon streaks and drifting holographic ads — some offering upgrades for neural implants, others screaming "JOIN THE AWAKENERS — EVOLVE BEYOND HUMANITY!" in radiant fonts that flickered with life.
In the 31st Sector of the Southern Division, one of the quieter residential zones, a single-room apartment glowed with pale blue light. Inside, Emma sat shirtless in front of a wall-sized holo-screen, spooning cereal into his mouth while his other hand lazily scrolled through his wristband's projection feed. His lean frame was toned — not the kind of muscles you get from a gym, but the kind you carve out of stubbornness and boredom.
"Demons again, huh?" he muttered, chewing slowly as the news presenter's hologram flickered into view.
> "Breaking update — the Arcion Military Patrol has successfully captured a group of Class-D demons in the northern outskirts near Sector 4. Four casualties were recorded—"
"And one broken nail," Emma interrupted dryly, mimicking the presenter's serious tone. "Can't forget the nail."
He sighed, pushing the cereal bowl aside. The snow outside reflected through his glass walls, bathing his small apartment in a pale, ghostly glow. He leaned back, crossing his arms. "So, they keep catching demons… Meanwhile, I can't even catch a cold without looking pathetic."
A small notification blinked in his vision: 'System: Your energy bill for the week has been automatically deducted.'
He groaned. "Oh perfect. I'm officially broke again. Thanks, universe. You really know how to bless a guy."
And as if the universe wanted to make a point, the power dimmed for half a second — just enough to interrupt the holo-screen.
"Dammit," Emma muttered, staring at the flickering light. He leaned back in his chair, eyes rolling. "Never ever saying thank you. Blessings are a scam."
He got up and walked to the window. Hover-cars zipped past, their light trails forming temporary constellations across the skyline. Arcion was beautiful, no doubt — but to Emma, it always felt like beauty wrapped around emptiness and loneliness.
"So boring" said Emma.
The city was a testimony to the advancement of civilization in today's era. Buildings pierced the clouds, drones cleaned the streets, and artificial weather systems regulated everything except human emotion. Yet, for all its perfection, Arcion was lonely.
Or rather, Emma was lonely.
He'd been an orphan all his life — product of artificial fertilization, like most lower-class citizens. The orphanage had released him when he clocked eighteen. The government granted him a tiny apartment, a digital ID, and a month's worth of credits — enough to start a new life. But a new life doing what?
Without an awakening, he was just… normal.
In a world where half the population could bend elements, alter gravity, or shape reality through mana, "normal" was a polite way of saying "useless."
He turned away from the window, scratching his messy brown hair. "I should probably work out before I lose what's left of my dignity."
He dropped to the floor and began his routine — pushups, sit-ups, squats — the same exercises he'd done every day since leaving the orphanage. The floor vibrated faintly beneath him as he counted under his breath.
"Thirty-four… thirty-five… thirty-six…"
He grunted, pausing midway to admire his reflection in the mirror. His lean muscles flexed under the dim light, and he gave a self-satisfied smirk. "Still got it. Damn, if I were an Awakener, I'd be the best-looking one."
He laughed at himself — a short, sarcastic sound that filled the empty apartment. Then he pushed himself harder, sweat dripping down his neck.
He finished his workout and collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily. "Haah… haah… great. Now I'm sweaty, broke, and still powerless. What a combo."
The sound of a door chime interrupted his thoughts.
"Who the hell—?"
He quickly found his shirt to hide his still developing body only leaving a few buttons open.
He opened the door to find an elderly woman standing outside — his neighbor from across the hall, Mrs. Hara. She smiled kindly, holding a small package.
"Emma, dear. The delivery drone dropped this at my door by mistake. It's for you."
"Ah, thanks, Mrs. Hara. You're a lifesaver." He smiled, taking it.
"Oh, bless you, child. May fortune smile upon your path." Replied Mrs Hara.
Emma froze. His smile twitched. "Yeah… thanks, I guess."
He quickly shut the door while moving to the center table in his room — the only one he had. Lost in thought, he didn't notice the slightly empty glass plate he had used to drink his cereal earlier which he had placed on the floor.
A sharp crack followed as he stepped on it, the plate breaking under his weight. He winced as tiny shards dug into his right leg, drawing a thin line of blood.
Can't they just say 'good luck' like normal human beings?"
He fetched a towel and wiped the mess, muttering under his breath. "Bless me, huh? Lady, I guess you indirectly cursed me."
He shifted the broken pieces aside and tore open the package — just another energy supplement order. Nothing exciting.
As he cleaned up, his holo-screen blared with breaking news again.
> "Authorities warn citizens to stay clear of the southern wilderness. Demonic signatures have been detected near Sector 29. Repeat—"
"Sector 29?" Emma paused, "That's only two sectors away. Great. Maybe one of them will pay me a visit and grant me an awakening through trauma."
He laughed quietly to himself, though the thought wasn't entirely a joke.
Becoming an Awakener was every orphan's dream. But it required something rare — a resonance. Some claimed it came from within, others said it was bestowed by the gods. Either way, Emma had never shown a single sign.
He'd even tried joining online "awakening meditation" groups. Total scams. One even asked for blood samples and credit donations.
He stretched lazily and sat back on his couch, scrolling through the digital feed already forgetting about his earlier work out.
Every image seemed to mock him: bright-eyed youths wielding swords of light, girls channeling divine energy, the elite of Germmy Institute of Awakeners.
That was the world he wanted to enter.
He'd already taken the entrance exam — a brutal test of mental, physical, and emotional stability. He'd done his best. Now all he could do was wait for the result.
"Maybe I should start praying," he muttered, then quickly shook his head. "Nope. Bad idea. Knowing my luck, a lightning bolt will fry my bed the moment I say 'Dear God—'"
He flopped back down, rubbing his face. "Just… one win. That's all I ask. One good thing that doesn't explode five minutes later."
As if on cue, his wristband blinked — a soft, rhythmic pulse.
He sat up instantly. "Wait… is that—?"
He tapped it, and a holographic letter unfolded in the air. The seal of Germmy Institute glowed proudly on top.
> "To Applicant #1183 — Emma Varel. We are pleased to inform you that…"
He stopped reading halfway, staring at the words, breath caught in his throat.
Then he blinked, leaned back, and squinted suspiciously. "Nah. No way. This has to be one of those fake emails again."
But the seal shimmered, authentic and official.
"Holy shit… I actually—"
A knock on the door interrupted his celebration.
"Ugh, what now?"
He opened it to find a young man from the delivery service holding a package. "Delivery for Emma Varel."
"Yeah, that's me."
The man handed it over and frowned. "Hey man, you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost."
"Something like that," Emma said, smirking faintly.
"Well, good luck, bro," the man said before turning away.
"Yeah, thanks," Emma muttered.
He closed the door — and immediately stubbed his toe on the broken plate fragment which he had pushed aside earlier.
"AHHH! Damn it!" He jumped, clutching his foot. "Of course. I get an acceptance letter, and the universe hits back. Classic!"
He dropped onto the couch, holding the holo-letter in front of his face, pain slowly giving way to laughter.
It wasn't the letter that made him laugh — it was the irony of it all. The fact that no matter how twisted his luck got, life still threw him something unpredictable.
"Alright, Germmy Institute," he whispered, smirking. "Let's see what kind of circus you're running."
He looked out the window again. The snow had grown heavier, dancing under the glow of streetlights and drifting through the skyline.
Hover cars hummed above the sector, and somewhere in the distance, a loud boom echoed — probably another demon being captured. But for the first time in his life, Emma didn't feel like the background character in someone else's story.
Something inside him stirred — faintly, almost imperceptibly. A ripple beneath still waters.
He didn't know that it was his dormant power — the divine curse sleeping within him — reacting for the very first time.
All he knew was that, somehow, things were about to change.
He smiled faintly. "About damn time."
Outside, the city continued to breathe — cold, mechanical, yet alive. And deep within its neon heart, Emma Varel, the boy cursed by blessings and blessed by curses, took his first step toward destiny.