The hospital doors swung wide open as officials rushed in a patient. A red-haired woman was wheeled inside, blood soaking through the sheets beneath her. The fluorescent lights streaked across her fading vision as she struggled to hold on to her life.
Orderlies shouted as they pushed her down the corridor. Doors flew open as people cleared the path.
A red-haired boy kept maintained hispace beside the rolling bed, his small hands clenched around its metal frame as he struggled to keep up with the doctors and nurses. His eyes never left the woman as they worked on her even while moving, their voices loud and urgent.
It felt like he could feel her slipping away.
"She's not breathing!" a nurse called out.
"Prep the ward—emergency surgery. Now!"
"We can't lose her," one of the doctors muttered as they neared the operating wing.
A little girl tried to follow, crying loudly, her small hands reaching toward the bed.
"Ma—!"
Nurses caught her and held her back. She kicked and struggled in vain, sobbing as she reached for her mother.
But the boy didn't stop.
A nurse grabbed for him too, but he twisted free—stubbornly and desperate—keeping pace with the bed until they stopped abruptly at the operating doors.
He nearly crashed into it as they rushed her inside, but the doctor turned and crouched in front of him, gripping his shoulders firmly.
Kyle was crying now, his breath hitching, and his eyes locked on the woman being taken away.
"Wait here, son," the doctor said, forcing calm into his voice. "Mummy is going to be fine. Okay?"
Without waiting for a reply, he stood—
—and disappeared through the doors as they sealed shut.
Kyle stared at the blank white surface where his mother had vanished.
After a moment, he turned.
His little sister was still crying, nurses slowly releasing her now that there was nothing left to stop.
Kyle walked to her and pulled her into his arms.
"It's okay," he whispered, though his voice trembled.
"I'm here… I'm always here."
SLAM!
The stroke of wood against wood dragged him back to the present.
"Mister Morvain!"
Kyle blinked. The classroom swam into focus.
Mr. Arph stood at the front, with a thin rod pressed against Kyle's desk.
"I can't help but feel that you aren't with us at the moment."
"Um—no, sir, I was just—"
"Just what? What was the last thing I said?"
Kyle froze. He hadn't been paying attention at all.
"I thought as much."
A heavy silence settled over the room.
"Seven years in this institution," Mr. Arph continued. "Same seat. Same class. Same result."
Kyle swallowed. He had sensed the man's disdain before—but never this openly.
"Ahem. Sir, with all due respect, im sure if I keep trying, I'll eventually—"
"You are way past that time young man. Mr arph said as silence followed suit. "Stand on your table. Now."
Laughter rippled through the room as Kyle slowly obeyed.
Seven years.
Still nothing.
And he was already seventeen.
The normal age to awaken was seven. Anyone later was labeled a late awakener. Those who never awakened at all were called Nulls. And at this point, Kyle was way past the stage of late awakener.
Nulls weren't just powerless—they were expendable. Used for labor. Used as bait in the Dark Forest , a place where high rankers hunted for magical beasts of various grades and existence. They were just seen as extra lives that didn't really matter.
Kyle wasn't ready to accept that fate.
He remained in the institution only because his mother had given her life in service to the Academy and her final request had been simple:
Take care of my children.
A courtesy.
A technicality.
And a burden they were clearly tired of carrying.
A flame burst brightly at the front of the room, earning applause and pulling Kyle from his thoughts as
someone behind him leaned closer.
"What a waste."
Silence grew heavy the moment that voice spoke. He knew it anywhere.
"Your mom wouldn't be disappointed," Jim continued. "She probably already knows you're a failure."
Something inside Kyle snapped as he slowly turned.
Jim. The best. The top of the class. Flame-gifted. Nearly Intermediate rank despite being younger than Kyle. Power and aura were evident around him even at ease.
"What did you just say?" Kyle asked, with a tight voice.
The room went quiet. This wasn't like him.
Jim leaned back, with a smile.
"You heard me, Null."
Kyle stepped down from the table. The chair legs scraped sharply against the tiled floor.
At this point everyone's attention was on them. And Mr. Arph didn't seemlike his was about to intervene.
Kyles mates never missed a chance to mock him. He understood that. But bringing up his mother....that was different.
"Say it again," Kyle said, with a low voice and accurate eye contact.
Jim stood, smirking.
"And what are you going to do about --
Kyle moved first, driving his shoulder into Jim's chest and slamming him into a desk. Gasps erupted.
Kyle swung his fists, letting out years of swallowed humiliation, slamming Jim's head against the tiled floor.
Jim chuckled with every hit he took like a psychopath then finally Kyle's wrist mid-swing and twisted easily.
Pain shot up Kyle's arm as he let out a loud scream.
"You're pathetic," Jim said loudly and with a shove, he sent Kyle crashing to the floor, forcing the air from his lungs in a harsh gasp.
Kyle tried to rise again, but Jim kicked his leg out from under him, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him close.
"You better know your place".
Then he threw him aside.
Kyle slid across the stone floor, stopping near the front of the class. Jim's strength and durability was understandable it's just on of the advantages that come with awakening.
No one laughed now.
Mr. Arph stepped forward after everything and bent toward him.
"That," he said coldly, "is the difference between effort and talent."
Kyle tried and forced himself up, wiping blood from his mouth.
"You didn't stop it," he muttered.
"You started it. Mr arph replied sharply. Now get out of my training ground.
But before Kyle could respond, the final bell rang.
Students scattered immediately.
Jim walked past him without another glance.
Kyle stood there alone.
Rage burned in his chest—raw and directionless. Not just at Jim. Not just at Arph.
At everything.
At himself.
Even his juniors were stronger than him.
If it weren't for the institution's laws preventing students from using lethal force inside the academy, Kyle knew he might already be dead. They were trained to kill when necessary. Age didn't matter.
And they had power at their advantage.
He had nothing.
If he was officially declared a Null, his fate would be sealed. Labor. Bait. Disposable.
He couldn't imagine that life—for himself or for his sister.
His only hope had finally dissolved.
He let out a long breath.
And smiled.
He didn't know why. Maybe it was relief. Relief from chasing something that would never come.
"To hell with it all."
He was a failure.
He accepted it now.
But the words about his mother echoed in his head. "Maybe he was right maybe she wouldn't be disappointed...maybe I'm just a failure..."
He chuckled bitterly.
"But that didn't mean he had the right to talk about Mom… She's dead. Was that really necessary?"
He ran a hand through his red silky hair chuckling.
"No… he has to pay for that. Someone has to be an example."
A broken laugh escaped him, mixing with tears. " Jim has to pay"