Ascender Selection Day was supposed to be a celebration.
For Leonard Cross, it felt more like a public execution.
The plaza outside Aurelian Private Academy, one of the most prestigious academies in the district, had been transformed overnight. Metallic platforms hovered above the marble ground and holographic banners rotated slowly in the air, broadcasting the same message on repeat:
ASCENDER AWAKENING CEREMONY
THE FIRST STEP BEYOND
Leonard stood among the students, already sweating.
Not because of the crowd.
Because of his body.
The academy uniform clung to him in all the wrong places. The reinforced fabric was designed for athletic frames—Ascenders-in-waiting, not someone like him. His shirt stretched tight over his stomach, the seams near the buttons visibly strained. His trousers dug uncomfortably into his waist every time he shifted his weight, and the synthetic belt felt like it might snap if he breathed too deeply.
He was breathing deeply and audibly.
Leonard wiped his palms against the sides of his pants and tried to ignore the way his thighs rubbed together when he walked. Each step felt slow, labored, like his own body was sabotaging him in front of everyone.
He could feel the stares.
Not curious ones.
Judging ones.
"Damn, does he even fit the uniform?"
"Isn't that Marcus Cross's kid?"
"No way. That's embarrassing."
"How do you let yourself get that big?"
The whispers weren't even whispered.
They never were.
Leonard lowered his head as his cheeks burnt, tucking his chin instinctively toward his chest. He hated how soft it made him look. Hated how his round face and thick neck made him look younger, weaker, slower.
He hated that his body announced his failure before he ever opened his mouth.
A faculty coordinator passed by and frowned.
"Cross. Straighten up."
Leonard tried.
The motion only made his jacket ride up slightly, exposing the curve of his stomach beneath the shirt.
Laughter followed.
Someone actually snorted.
Leonard's fingers curled into fists. He didn't look back. He never did. Looking only made it worse.
Above the plaza, seated on a raised platform reserved for honored guests, sat his family.
And his father.
Marcus Cross stood out even among Ascenders.
He had super broad shoulders and incredibly straight spine. He was the kind of man who looked carved instead of born. His presence was oppressive in a way Leonard had never been able to explain like gravity bent a little stronger around him.
People noticed Marcus Cross without trying.
Leonard was noticed because people couldn't believe the contrast.
"That's his son?"
"Did they mix him up at birth?"
"No way that kid shares blood with him."
Leonard's eyes drooped.
Next to Marcus sat Leonard's mother, elegant as ever with a carefully composed expression.
On the other side were his two older brothers who were both tall, muscular and wearing their uniforms like they were born in them. Their physiques were lean, honed by training and awakened power.
And his little sister.
She stood near them, glowing with excitement and a proud posture. She'd awakened last year. She was one of the few ascenders who underwent natural awakening. She didn't need to touch the diamond.
Leonard remembered how she was praised by everyone around her as a prodigy.
He remembered how his mother cried.
He remembered how his father nodded once, satisfied.
Leonard swallowed.
At the center of the plaza hovered the diamond.
A rough translucent crystal fragment from The Beyond, suspended above a smooth pedestal. Light throbbed faintly within it, reacting to latent Ascender potential.
This was the moment.
Students stepped forward one by one.
A girl touched the diamond it lit up with a crimson glow.
"Physical Classification!"
Cheers erupted.
Another student—violet light.
"Mental Classification!"
The air buzzed with excitement. Cameras zoomed in. Drones recorded every triumphant expression.
Leonard shifted his weight again as his heart pounded and his breath turned uneven. Sweat dampened the collar of his shirt.
He already knew.
He'd always known.
But knowing didn't make standing here any easier.
"Leonard Cross."
The name echoed across the plaza.
The was an immediate pause and then murmurs followed.
Heads turned.
Phones lifted.
Leonard felt like every ounce of his weight doubled as he stepped out of line. The walk toward the pedestal felt endless. His steps were slower than everyone else's... not because he wanted them to be, but because his body was slower.
His chest rose and fell visibly.
Someone laughed again.
"Take your time, big guy."
Leonard stopped in front of the pedestal.
Up close, the diamond felt… distant. Uninterested. Like it already knew the answer.
The officiator looked at him briefly with his eyes flicking down before quickly returning to neutral.
"Place your hand on the diamond."
Leonard raised his arm.
It shook slightly.
His palm pressed against the crystal.
The seconds ticked by but there was no reaction.
The diamond didn't glow.
Silence fell like a hammer.
Leonard's stomach dropped.
The officiator frowned, tapping his console once.
Then again.
"…Remove your hand."
Leonard did.
The diamond remained dormant.
"No reaction," the officiator announced.
That was it.
The words detonated the crowd.
Laughter burst out openly this time. Not even restrained. Some people shook their heads. Others smirked, already bored.
"Of course."
"Knew it."
"How embarrassing."
"Imagine being that fat and powerless."
Leonard's ears rang.
He turned away quickly with his face burning and his vision blurring. His chest felt tight, like something was sitting on it. Each step back toward the line felt heavier than the last.
He didn't look at his family.
He couldn't.
By the time he reached the back, the ceremony had already moved on. He no longer existed to them.
Leonard stood there, breathing hard, staring at the ground.
Games flashed through his mind.
Boss patterns. Safe zones. Perfect clears.
Games were fair.
They didn't laugh.
They didn't care what you looked like.
They only cared if you survived.
His vision darkened.
For a moment, he thought he was going to collapse.
And then—
Everything disappeared.
Leonard stood in darkness.
No crowd. No laughter.
A grid of faint blue light stretched beneath his feet, endless in every direction.
A translucent interface appeared in front of him.
[Candidate Detected.]
[Criteria Met: Extreme Game Familiarity.]
[Ascender Status: Irrelevant.]
Leonard's breath hitched.
"What…?" he whispered.
The text continued.
[Gamebreaker Protocol Initialized.]
[Current Level: 1.]
[Failure Condition: Death.]
Leonard heart hammered as he stared in confusion.
A final line appeared.
[Prepare for Incursion.]
The grid shattered and Leonard Cross fell.
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