In a world that looks almost like ours…
Cities glow with neon lights, trains hum through the night, and people chase dreams under a calm blue sky.
But beneath all that normalcy, something else lives.
Something ancient.
Something unpredictable.
They call them Tunnels—
pathways that tear open in the middle of streets, on rooftops, in classrooms, anywhere they please.
Inside them lie monsters, treasures, and mysteries people still can't explain.
Some say they appear at random.
Others whisper that an unseen god places them… one by one.
And in this world, a small number of people are born with Talents—marks carved as tattoo-like symbols at the back of their necks.
Knight. Mage. Assassin. Healer.
Rare gifts… even rarer awakenings.
For a Talent means nothing until the moment it glows—
the moment a person finally unlocks who they are meant to become.
To guide them, schools were built.
Places where the talented learn, fight, grow… and venture into the Tunnels to claim whatever lies inside.
But our story doesn't begin with a hero.
It begins with a boy.
Sixteen, small-framed, soft-spoken.
Black hair that never behaves.
Blue eyes that always look a little overwhelmed by the world.
His name is Matt Oswatt.
He was born with a Talent class no one had ever seen before.
A class spoken only in myths and never seen in history.
God class.
For a moment, the world turned its eyes to him.
Cameras. Headlines. Rumors.
A boy destined for greatness.
…Or so they thought.
Because no matter how hard he tried…
no matter how many tests, rituals, or near-death stunts he endured…
his Talent never awakened.
The world moved on.
Attention faded.
And Matt Oswatt remained just a harmless, nerdy boy in the city of Mystra—
—until the day everything changed.
Classroom
Matt sat in the Knight Class classroom, chin resting on his palm, eyes drifting toward the window. The sky above Mystra was unusually clear today… almost mocking him with how peaceful it looked.
His thoughts wandered—
not to anything productive, of course—
just the usual "what if" fantasies he knew would never happen.
"OSWATT!"
The shout slammed into the room like a hammer.
Matt jolted so hard his chair almost tipped over.
At the front stood Mr. Graft, a retired tunnel diver with more scars than patience. A B-Rank Knight class—strong, respected, and for some mysterious reason, absolutely allergic to Matt's existence.
"Stop daydreaming about a world where you actually awaken," Mr. Graft barked. "Pay attention!"
The classroom erupted into laughter.
Some snickering.
Some whispering.
Some not even bothering to hide their mocking grins.
Matt shot up to his feet immediately, bowing his head so fast his glasses almost flew off.
"S-sorry, sir!"
Mr. Graft snorted and continued the lesson.
Matt slowly sank back into his seat, the humiliation bouncing off him like it was just another Tuesday. He turned back to the window, letting his eyes unfocus—his little escape.
It's not like paying attention will help, he monologued silently.
No teacher can teach a class no one understands. 'God-class,' huh? Even the researchers gave up on that one.
He exhaled softly.
Back when I was national news, they gave me the special privilege to attend any class I wanted… but in the end, I just stick with Knight Class.
Swords, shields… at least they're things I can hold. Things that don't rely entirely on a Talent.
Sometimes he wandered into Assassin Class.
Sometimes Archer Class.
Anything that didn't depend on awakening.
Mage, Beast Tamer, Summoner, Sniper… yeah, those are out of my league.
His gaze softened.
Besides… my best friend is in this class. Makes it less boring.
Most people awakened by eight.
Thirteen was late, but still normal.
Matt shifted in his seat.
I turn eighteen tomorrow. After that… if my Talent doesn't awaken, then it never will.
That's just how it is.
B R I N G — B R I N G —
The bell cut through the classroom, loud enough to end both the lesson and his thoughts.
Students rushed out immediately.
Matt rose from his seat with the energy of a dying plant.
"Well… that wasn't a fruitful session," he murmured to himself as he stretched and adjusted his bag.
And with that, he walked out of the classroom.
Matt barely made it three steps out of the classroom before something heavy slammed onto his back.
"HEYA, DUDE! Don't tell me you were abandoning me!" Jackson Myers shouted right into his ear.
"OW— Jackson! You shouldn't have jumped on me!" Matt groaned as the two of them collapsed onto the hallway floor.
Jackson grinned like a hyperactive puppy.
"Well, I couldn't help myself. You just looked so bouncy."
"You're extremely heavy…" Matt muttered, face pressed into the tiles.
"NO I'M NOT!!!" Jackson yelled, instantly offended.
They scrambled back to their feet.
Matt dusted himself off, sighing inside.
As you can see, he monologued, this idiot here is my best friend.
Handsome, popular, good with the girls, an A-Rank Knight — which is crazy rare at our age. He's basically the exact opposite of me.
Wonder how we're friends? Well, we met on a TV show for kids with potential. That was before either of us awakened. We've stuck together ever since.
Jackson slung his bag over his shoulder.
"Let's go."
They walked down the corridor side by side, chatting casually as they headed for the exit.
But just before they reached the front doors—
"Um… J-Jackson?" a cute girl stopped him, fidgeting nervously with her fingers. Her cheeks were bright pink. She was definitely building up to a confession.
Matt immediately took a step back.
"Well… clearly my presence here is not wanted," he said, giving Jackson a little salute. "I'll take my leave."
Jackson waved frantically for him to stay, but Matt was already walking away.
Matt had made it a good distance from the school when his steps slowed.
And then…
just his luck.
Three shadows blocked the sidewalk ahead.
Cyrus.
John.
Astra.
His bullies.
"Look who we have here," Cyrus grinned, cracking his knuckles. The B-Rank tank towered over Matt like a wall of muscle.
John and Astra — both C-Rank fire mages — smirked behind him.
Matt exhaled. Not surprised. Not scared.
Just… tired.
Of course… today of all days.
He wasn't in the mood for a beating.
Not today.
So he tried something—anything.
"Wow, is that Mr. Graft behind you?" Matt blurted, eyes widening in fake shock.
All three bullies turned around on instinct.
Matt bolted.
"HEY! GET BACK HERE!"
They sprinted after him.
Down the street.
Around corners.
Through narrow alleys.
It was a long, frantic chase—Matt's lungs burned, his legs shaking—but eventually, the bullies caught up.
Cyrus shoved him against a wall.
The two mages flanked him, sparks flickering around their palms.
"Well, well," Cyrus smirked. "Running won't change what you are."
They're clearly stronger than me, Matt thought bitterly. A B-Rank tank and two C-Rank mages. I never stood a chance.
The beating began.
Punches.
Kicks.
More punches.
Matt curled up on the ground, taking it silently — like he always did.
Cyrus lifted his foot, aiming straight for Matt's face.
But before it could land—
WHOOSH— CRACK!
A blur shot past Matt's vision.
Cyrus was launched backward, smashing through a wall with explosive force.
Matt blinked.
Standing in front of him, fist still extended, breathing hard—
Jackson.
"Why don't you pick on someone your own size!?" Jackson shouted, fists clenched, eyes blazing.
John and Astra froze.
They knew better than to mess with an A-Rank Knight.
They scrambled to pull Cyrus out of the debris and fled without looking back.
Jackson rushed to Matt, grabbing his arm gently.
"Dude you ok?
I go away for a second and you get yourself in trouble, why can't you follow my responsible lead?,"
"Responsible?, youve got things all around"
"… why don't you ever fight back?"
Matt pulled away slightly, limping forward.
"They were clearly stronger than me. I wouldn't have won anyway," he muttered. "Fighting back was pointless. I'd still get my butt kicked."
Jackson sighed — the kind that came from pure frustration and concern.
"You dummy," he said, walking beside Matt. "It doesn't matter whether you win or not. It's about showing them you're not a loser. That you won't go down without a fight."
He tapped his own chest.
"As my motto goes: if I'm going down… I'm going down swinging."
Matt stopped.
The sun dipped low behind him, casting warm orange light across the street.
Those words echoed in his mind.
Going down swinging… huh?
He looked at Jackson, eyes widening just a little — like something clicked deep inside him.
"…I'll keep that in mind," Matt said, a small smile forming.
The sunset's glow washed over him, making that smile shine just a bit brighter.
Matt and Jackson walked down the sidewalk, still talking, when they noticed a huge crowd gathered ahead. People were pointing, taking pictures, whispering nervously.
Jackson tapped a man in the crowd.
"Hey, what's going on?"
"A tunnel just opened up right in the middle of the road," the man said, eyes wide. "A squad of divers already went in. They're calling it a D-Rank, so it should be cleared pretty quickly."
"Ahh, I see…" Jackson nodded. Then he flashed Matt a grin.
"I guess we're taking the other route."
"Hell NO! Not there!" Matt barked instantly.
Jackson shrugged. "Well… unless you've learned how to fly home, I don't see another way."
Matt groaned internally.
"…Fine. It seems so."
They turned down the alternate street.
Matt's entire posture changed the moment they rounded the corner. He stiffened, eyes darting like a terrified rabbit.
He knew this house.
He knew it too well.
Please don't be there… Please don't be awake… Please don't open the—
CREEEK.
A window slid open.
"Matt! Hey! Matttt!"
His soul left his body.
A beautiful girl with long, flowing brown hair leaned out of the window, waving both hands with bright enthusiasm.
Melissa Rivers.
Matt's long-time crush.
"H-Hi, Melissa…" Matt stammered, standing completely frozen as he waved back awkwardly. His face was already bright red.
Jackson leaned in, whispering with maximum smugness,
"Sure is fun meeting your crush, ain't it?"
"Shut up!!" Matt snapped, swatting him with zero strength.
Jackson only snickered as Matt tried desperately to hold himself together, cheeks still burning.
Matt tried to speed-walk past the house, but Melissa had already shoved the window fully open and leaned out, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders.
"Are you guys coming from school?" she asked brightly.
Matt froze like a statue mid-step. "Uh—yeah! Yes. Totally. School… things."
His voice cracked halfway through, which only made Jackson smack his own forehead.
Melissa giggled. "You're funny, Matt."
Kill me now… just kill me… Matt begged the universe silently, his ears turning red.
Jackson leaned in with a wicked grin. "We just came from a tunnel, actually. Matt almost cried—"
Matt elbowed him so fast it was practically teleportation.
"W-What? A tunnel?" Melissa's eyes widened. "Was it dangerous?"
"N-No! Not at all!" Matt insisted. "I mean, yeah, tunnels are dangerous, but not this one—No! Not that I'd be in danger! I—I wasn't there long! We just passed by! We didn't go in—Why am I still talking?"
Melissa covered her mouth as she laughed. "You're really cute when you're flustered."
Matt shut down. Brain gone. Soul ascended.
Jackson muttered, "He's dead. We lost him."
A distant explosion echoed from the D-Rank tunnel behind them—nothing big, just the kind of boom divers used to break open sections.
Melissa looked toward the sound. "Wow… tunnels are opening more and more lately. You both should go before the streets clog up."
"O-Okay! See you!" Matt squeaked.
He turned around so fast he nearly tripped, and Jackson had to grab the back of his hoodie to stabilize him.
Once they were out of earshot, Jackson smirked. "Soooooo… Melissa, huh?"
Matt blushed harder. "Shut up, shut up, shut up."
"You waved at her like you were signaling a rescue helicopter."
Matt covered his face. "Jackson please… I can't physically survive this conversation."
But Jackson only slung an arm over his friend's shoulders. "Relax, man. At least your crush knows your name. Some of us aren't that lucky."
Matt peeked at him. Jackson looked away a little too casually.
"…You like someone?" Matt asked quietly.
"Nope!" Jackson said immediately.
"Uh-huh."
"Shut up."
Matt smiled despite himself as they continued walking.
Matt pushed open the tall iron gate after parting ways with Jackson and stepped into the wide, quiet compound. The evening breeze brushed through the trimmed hedges, and the soft garden lights flickered on in response.
To anyone watching, he probably looked like some rich kid coming home to his perfect life.
But as Matt crossed the stone path leading to the large, elegant mansion, he let out a small sigh and slipped into an inner monologue—something he did way too often.
"This place… yeah, it's big. Too big for someone like me."
He placed his hand on the polished door handle.
"I've been an orphan for as long as I can remember. My real parents… well, they were poor. Really poor. So when people found out I had an unknown class—something never seen before—they didn't see me as their child."
He pushed the door open slowly. The warm lights inside spilled across the glossy floor.
"They saw me as… a chance. A lottery ticket. A way out of poverty."
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
"They sold me. Not to bad people, though—not to some underground group or shady lab. Just… a wealthy family who wanted to invest in me. Raise me. Build me into something valuable."
His footsteps echoed slightly as he walked through the quiet hallway lined with fancy paintings he never picked.
"The Oswatts. They're good people. Really good. They gave me a home… gave me their name… treated me like I mattered."
He paused by the staircase, glancing at the familiar family portrait on the wall—a smiling father, a gentle mother, and him, awkward and stiff in a suit too big for him.
"Funny, right? The kid with a God-class talent who can't even awaken… living in a mansion he didn't earn."
He swallowed, forcing the thought away.
"I guess… this is my life. Whether I deserve it or not."
"Matt?" a gentle voice called from deeper inside the house. "Is that you?"
He straightened a little. "Yeah! I'm home!"
He continued walking in, the mansion quiet around him—too quiet for a place this big.
"Even with all this… I've never felt like I belong. Not really. But maybe… someday."
He exhaled softly, heading toward the dining area.
Tomorrow would be the day everything changed—and he had no idea.