The Grand Awakening Arena could hold fifty thousand people comfortably.
Today, it strained to contain ninety thousand.
Drunik Loz stood in the staging area beneath the arena floor, surrounded by nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine other nineteen-year-olds. The air buzzed with nervous energy—whispered prayers, excited speculation, the occasional person vomiting from stress into provided buckets.
Above them, the roar of the crowd filtered through the ceiling like distant thunder.
"Candidates!" A voice boomed through amplification crystals embedded in the walls. "You have five minutes until the ceremony begins. Prepare yourselves."
Drunik ran his hands through his dark black hair—currently cut short and practical—and tried to steady his breathing. His ceremonial white robe felt too tight across his shoulders, or maybe that was just the anxiety constricting his chest.
This is it, he thought, staring at his trembling hands. Everything I've worked for. Everything I've hoped for. It all comes down to the next few hours.
"Nervous?"
Drunik turned to find a blonde girl beside him—hair tied in a practical bun, sharp green eyes assessing him with the calm of someone who'd already decided they'd succeed.
"Who isn't?" Drunik managed a weak smile.
"Fair." She stretched her arms overhead, rolling her shoulders. "I'm hoping for something combat-class. Hunter work pays the best, and I've got student loans that won't pay themselves. You?"
"Same. Combat or support, I'm not picky." Liar, his mind whispered. He'd been dreaming of S-rank skills for months—something flashy, powerful, impressive. Something that would make his father finally look at him with pride instead of that perpetual disappointment. "Just something useful."
The girl nodded, but her attention had already drifted to the massive projection screens mounted throughout the staging area. They were showing highlights from previous awakening ceremonies—legendary moments when candidates had received Epic or Legendary skills.
Drunik watched a clip of a boy awakening "Dragon's Heart" three years ago—the entire arena had erupted in chaos as guild scouts literally fought each other for the right to sign him. The boy was now a famous A-rank hunter, his face on advertisements across Nexus City.
That could be me, Drunik thought desperately. Please let that be me.
"ONE MINUTE!" the voice announced.
The staging area fell silent except for breathing and the thunder of ten thousand heartbeats.
Then—
"CANDIDATES! PROCEED TO THE ARENA FLOOR!"
The transition from underground staging to the open arena was overwhelming.
Sunlight—filtered through the crystalline dome overhead—refracted into rainbow patterns that danced across white marble floors. Ninety thousand spectators packed the seats, creating a wall of sound that physically pressed against Drunik's chest. Massive projection screens floated in the air like small moons, currently displaying the official Guild Federation seal.
Ten thousand candidates filed onto the floor in ordered rows, forming a perfect grid pattern. Drunik found his assigned position—row 72, position 35—and stood at attention.
At the center of the arena, elevated on a raised platform, sat the Awakening Stone.
It was both smaller and larger than Drunik had imagined. The obsidian obelisk stood perhaps twelve feet tall, but its presence filled the entire space. Ancient runes carved into its surface glowed with pale blue light, pulsing in rhythm with something vast and unknowable. Just looking at it made Drunik's eyes water.
That stone had been there when the first dungeons appeared thirty years ago. It had awakened the first generation of hunters. It had given humanity the power to fight back against the monsters that poured from dimensional rifts.
And in a few hours, it would determine Drunik's entire future.
"CITIZENS OF NEXUS CITY!" A voice boomed—amplified but not artificial. This was raw power, the voice of someone who'd earned the right to speak without magical aid. "WELCOME TO THE 30TH ANNUAL AWAKENING CEREMONY!"
Guild Federation Chairman Gareth Stoneheart appeared on the central platform, and the crowd's roar intensified. The man was a legend—S-rank hunter, seven Abyssal-tier dungeon clears, the face of humanity's resistance against the dungeon threat.
He was also, Drunik noted with a sinking feeling, absolutely terrifying in person. Even from a hundred feet away, Stoneheart's aura of power was palpable—a pressure in the air that suggested barely-restrained violence.
"Thirty years ago," Stoneheart continued, his voice carrying to every corner of the massive arena, "humanity faced extinction. The dungeons opened. Monsters poured forth. We were helpless, dying by the millions."
The crowd had gone silent. Everyone knew this story, but hearing it from Stoneheart gave it weight.
"Then the Awakening Stones appeared. And with them—hope. Power. The ability to fight back." He gestured to the obelisk beside him. "This stone has awakened three hundred thousand hunters across the world. Each one a weapon against the dark. Each one a guardian of humanity's future."
Stoneheart's gaze swept across the ten thousand candidates, and Drunik felt it when those eyes passed over him—a moment of assessment so intense it felt physical.
"Today, ten thousand more join their ranks. Today, you become what humanity needs to survive."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"The ceremony will proceed in numerical order. When your number is called, approach the stone. Place both hands upon its surface. The stone will reach into your soul and draw forth the power that has always slept within you. This power will manifest as a Skill—a unique ability that defines your potential."
Stoneheart's expression hardened.
"Not all skills are equal. You will receive a grade: F, E, D, C, B, A, S, or in rare cases, SS or SSS. Your grade determines your starting rank as a hunter. Your skill determines your path."
A heavy pause.
"There is no shame in any grade. Every hunter serves humanity in their own way. But know this—the dungeons do not care about fairness. They will test you. Break you. Kill you if you are weak or foolish or unlucky."
The crowd was utterly silent now.
"So when your power awakens, embrace it. Master it. Use it to protect those who cannot protect themselves." Stoneheart's voice rose, filling the arena. "And never—never—forget that you are humanity's shield against the dark!"
The crowd erupted in cheers so loud they shook the dome.
Drunik's heart hammered in his chest. His palms were slick with sweat. Every nerve in his body screamed with anticipation.
This is it. This is really happening.
"BEGIN THE AWAKENING!" Stoneheart commanded.
The ceremony started exactly on time.
"CANDIDATE 0001: MARCUS VELL. APPROACH THE AWAKENING STONE."
A broad-shouldered boy with confident strides emerged from the front row. He walked to the platform like he owned it, climbed the steps without hesitation, and placed both massive hands on the stone's surface.
Nothing happened for three seconds.
Then—light.
Brilliant, golden light exploded from the point of contact, shooting upward in a column that briefly outshone the sun. The projection screens flickered to life, displaying Marcus's awakening for all to see:
---
[AWAKENING COMPLETE]
NAME: Marcus Vell
AGE: 19
SKILL: Titan's Strength (Rare)
GRADE: B
DESCRIPTION: Physical power increased by 300%. Can transform into Titan Form for 5 minutes (Cooldown: 1 hour). In Titan Form, strength increases to 800% of baseline.
CLASSIFICATION: Combat - Berserker Type
RECOMMENDED PATH: Front-line Hunter, Dungeon Vanguard
---
The arena exploded in cheers.
B-grade on first awakening was exceptional. Rare skills appeared in only 8% of awakenings. Guild scouts in the special seating section were already frantically typing on tablets, preparing contract offers.
Marcus flexed experimentally—his arms visibly swelled with muscle, veins bulging as power flooded through him. He grinned at the crowd, basking in their adoration, then descended the platform to thunderous applause.
Drunik watched with a mixture of hope and envy. B-grade. Rare. That's... that's what I need. Something like that.
"CANDIDATE 0002: YUNA PARK. APPROACH THE AWAKENING STONE."
A tiny girl—barely five feet tall, dark hair falling past her shoulders—walked to the platform on shaking legs. She looked terrified, nearly stumbling on the steps, but she made it to the stone.
Her hands touched the surface.
This time, the light was silver-white, almost blinding in its intensity.
---
[AWAKENING COMPLETE]
NAME: Yuna Park
AGE: 19
SKILL: Clairvoyance (Epic)
GRADE: A
DESCRIPTION: Perceive the future 5-10 seconds ahead. Can sense danger to self and designated allies within 100-meter radius. Perception extends to alternate probability branches (limited).
CLASSIFICATION: Support - Strategic Precognition
RECOMMENDED PATH: Scout, Raid Coordinator, High-Value Support
---
The crowd's roar was deafening.
Epic. A-grade. Yuna stood frozen in shock, tears streaming down her face as guild scouts practically trampled each other rushing toward the platform coordinator to file contract bids before she even left the stone.
Epic, Drunik thought, his mouth dry. She'll never have to worry about anything again. One skill and her entire life is guaranteed.
The ceremony continued.
Candidate after candidate approached the stone. Most received Common skills (the expected outcome for 70% of awakenings). These got polite applause—skills like "Enhanced Stamina" or "Basic Fireball" or "Minor Healing." Useful, certainly, but not special.
Then came the Uncommons (20% probability). Skills with interesting twists, unique applications. These received real cheers.
Rare skills (8% probability) caused excitement every time. B-grades and occasional A-grades.
And once every few hundred candidates—Epic.
"CANDIDATE 0847: ISOLDE VEX. APPROACH THE AWAKENING STONE."
Drunik's attention snapped to the platform.
A tall girl emerged from the crowd—pale skin, silver-blonde hair that fell like water down her back, sharp features that suggested aristocratic bloodline. She walked to the stone with the kind of confidence that came from expecting success.
She placed one hand on the obsidian surface almost casually.
The light that erupted was blue—the cold blue of deep winter, of frozen lakes, of temperatures that shouldn't exist.
---
[AWAKENING COMPLETE]
NAME: Isolde Vex
AGE: 19
SKILL: Absolute Zero (Epic)
GRADE: A
DESCRIPTION: Control ice and cold at molecular level. Can manipulate temperatures down to absolute zero (-273.15°C). Ice created is permanent unless dismissed. Immune to all cold-based damage.
CLASSIFICATION: Combat - Elemental Specialist
RECOMMENDED PATH: Area Control, Elite Hunter, Dungeon Specialist
---
The crowd went wild.
But Isolde didn't smile, didn't celebrate. She just nodded once—as if she'd expected nothing less—and descended the platform. Ice crystals formed in the air around her with each step, glittering in the sunlight.
Another Epic, Drunik thought, his hope warring with despair. Three already. The odds say most of us will get Commons. I just need... I just need something decent. Please.
The ceremony crawled forward.
Drunik's section wouldn't be called for at least another hour. He watched the awakenings, trying to distract himself from the gnawing anxiety in his gut.
Candidate 1,247 received "Shadow Step" (Uncommon, C-grade). Useful mobility skill.
Candidate 2,891 received "Plant Growth" (Common, D-grade). Agricultural support, probably.
Candidate 3,456 received "Berserker Rage" (Rare, B-grade). Another combat specialist.
The pattern held: mostly Commons, some Uncommons, occasional Rares, and very rare Epics.
Then—
"CANDIDATE 4,999: SERAPHINA LIGHT. APPROACH THE AWAKENING STONE."
A girl with warm brown skin and kind eyes approached the stone nervously. She was small, delicate-looking, the kind of person you'd want to protect rather than send into dungeons.
She touched the stone.
The light that exploded was golden—pure, warm, radiant. It filled the entire arena, and for a moment everyone felt it: a wave of comfort, of healing, of hope.
---
[AWAKENING COMPLETE]
NAME: Seraphina Light
AGE: 19
SKILL: Divine Restoration (Legendary)
GRADE: S
DESCRIPTION: Heal any wound, cure any disease, restore any damage short of death itself. Can resurrect recently deceased (within 30 seconds). Healing extends to mental trauma and spiritual damage. No cooldown. No mana cost.
CLASSIFICATION: Support - Miracle Healer
RECOMMENDED PATH: High-Priority Protection, Elite Raid Support, Hospital Service
---
The arena fell silent for three seconds.
Then erupted in absolute chaos.
Legendary. S-grade. A healing skill with no cooldown and no mana cost.
And she could resurrect the dead.
Guild scouts didn't even try to maintain decorum—they were screaming, physically fighting each other, throwing money at the platform coordinator. Federation officials had to form a protective barrier around Seraphina as she descended, overwhelmed and crying, while the crowd chanted her name.
Drunik watched it all with a hollow feeling in his chest.
Resurrect the recently deceased, he thought, the words burning into his mind. Within 30 seconds. She can bring people back from death.
He stared at the girl on the screen—Seraphina Light, now surrounded by a dozen Federation guards, being escorted to a private area reserved for high-value awakeners.
No don't worry, he told himself firmly. Focus. Your awakening is coming. Don't think about others. Think about what YOU'LL get.
Another hour passed.
The awakenings continued their predictable pattern. Drunik's section was finally called to move forward, closer to the platform. Now he could see the stone clearly—the way light pulsed beneath its surface, the ancient runes that seemed to shift and writhe when viewed from the corner of his eye.
His row was next.
Then his position.
"CANDIDATE 7,233: FINN LOCKE. APPROACH THE AWAKENING STONE."
Drunik watched as a boy from his row—someone he vaguely recognized from preparatory school—walked to the platform with shaking legs. Finn was small, bookish, the kind of kid who'd been bullied for being weak.
He touched the stone.
Soft green light.
---
[AWAKENING COMPLETE]
NAME: Finn Locke
AGE: 19
SKILL: Recovery Touch (Uncommon)
GRADE: C
DESCRIPTION: Heal minor wounds through physical contact. Can cure common diseases. Limited mana pool. 5-minute cooldown between uses.
CLASSIFICATION: Support - Medical
RECOMMENDED PATH: Field Medic, Guild Support Staff
---
Decent applause. Not amazing, but respectable. Finn looked relieved just to have something useful.
"CANDIDATE 7,234: CASSIAN WRIGHT. APPROACH THE AWAKENING STONE."
Another candidate Drunik didn't know. Strong build, confident stance.
Red light.
---
[AWAKENING COMPLETE]
NAME: Cassian Wright
AGE: 19
SKILL: Flame Blade (Uncommon)
GRADE: C
DESCRIPTION: Manifest weapon wreathed in fire. Fire damage increases with emotional intensity. Weapon can be any bladed form.
CLASSIFICATION: Combat - Weapon Specialist
RECOMMENDED PATH: Front-line Hunter, Solo Missions
---
Solid combat skill. More applause.
Then—
"CANDIDATE 7,235: DRUNIK LOZ. APPROACH THE AWAKENING STONE."
Drunik's legs moved before his brain caught up.
The walk to the platform felt like moving through water. Every step took enormous effort. The crowd's noise became a distant roar, blood pounding in his ears drowning out everything else.
This is it. This is the moment. Everything changes right now.
He climbed the steps.
The Awakening Stone loomed before him, twice his height, radiating something ancient and vast and incomprehensible. The runes carved into its surface glowed brighter as he approached, as if sensing him.
Drunik's hands were shaking.
He could feel ninety thousand eyes on him. The weight of expectation, hope, fear, desperation—all of it pressing down on his shoulders like a physical force.
Please, he prayed to whatever gods might listen. Please let it be good. Let it be useful. Let me matter.
He placed both palms flat against the obsidian surface.
For one heartbeat, nothing happened.
The stone was cold beneath his hands. Smooth. Almost unnaturally so, like touching liquid glass frozen in place.
Then—
Pain.
Not physical pain, but something deeper. Something that reached past his body, past his mind, straight into whatever made him him. The world inverted. Colors bled into each other, becoming something his eyes weren't designed to process. Sound stretched and compressed simultaneously.
And in that space between moments, in that fraction of a second that lasted forever—
Something looked at him.
Something vast and ancient and utterly inhuman turned its attention toward Drunik Loz and saw him. Saw every secret, every fear, every desperate hope. It examined him with the cold curiosity of a scientist studying an interesting specimen.
And then—
It laughed.
Not cruel laughter. Not mocking. Just... amused. The kind of laughter that suggested a joke only it understood.
The world snapped back into focus.
Light erupted from the stone—but not golden, not silver, not any color Drunik had seen today.
Black.
Absolute darkness that somehow glowed, light that absorbed rather than reflected, a void that burned his retinas to look at directly.
The projection screens flickered, glitched, then displayed his status:
---
[AWAKENING COMPLETE]
NAME: Drunik Loz
AGE: 19
SKILL: Death Armament (Unranked)
GRADE: ???
DESCRIPTION: Upon death, manifest the instrument, concept, or force of demise as a permanent weapon or ability.
CLASSIFICATION: [ERROR - UNABLE TO CLASSIFY]
RECOMMENDED PATH: [ERROR - SKILL OUTSIDE STANDARD PARAMETERS]
WARNING: This skill cannot be ranked using standard Federation metrics.
---
Silence.
Complete, absolute silence.
Ninety thousand people stared at the projection screens, reading the same impossible words over and over, trying to make sense of them.
Unranked.
Upon death.
Then someone in the upper seats laughed.
It started as a single, confused chuckle—the kind of sound someone makes when they don't understand a joke but think maybe they should.
But it spread.
Like wildfire through dry grass, laughter rippled through the crowd. Confused laughter became mocking laughter. Mocking laughter became cruel laughter.
Within thirty seconds, half the arena was laughing at him.
"He has to DIE to use his skill?!"
"What kind of useless garbage—"
"Unranked! Is that even a real grade?!"
"Probably worse than F!"
"The kid's cursed! Look at him!"
The laughter grew louder, meaner, more vicious. People were standing now, pointing, shouting. The projection screens helpfully zoomed in on Drunik's face—capturing his expression of shock, horror, dawning comprehension.
I have to die, his mind repeated numbly. My skill requires me to die. To get weapons. I have to DIE.
"Candidate Drunik Loz," the examiner's voice cut through the chaos, magically amplified to override the crowd. She was a stern-faced woman in formal Federation robes, and her expression showed exactly what she thought of his awakening. "Please step down from the platform."
Drunik's legs moved automatically.
He descended the steps in a daze, barely aware of the continued laughter, the jeering, the scattered cruel comments. The next candidate was already being called, the ceremony moving on, already forgetting him.
"—absolute waste—"
"—feel sorry for his parents—"
"—won't even make F-rank with that—"
Drunik walked through the crowd of successful awakeners, each glowing with pride and excitement. Conversations died as he passed. People stepped back, as if his failure might be contagious.
The blonde girl from earlier—she'd awakened "Wind Blade" (Uncommon, C-grade) and was glowing with satisfaction—looked at him with something between pity and disgust.
"I'm... sorry," she offered, but her tone suggested she wasn't sorry at all. More like she was performing expected social courtesy. "That's really unfortunate. I've never even heard of Unranked before."
"Yeah." Drunik's voice sounded hollow, distant, like someone else was speaking. "Unfortunate."
He kept walking, past her, past all of them, to an empty corner where he could watch the remainder of the ceremony on a smaller projection screen.
His status window floated in his peripheral vision, impossible to dismiss:
---
[STATUS]
NAME: Drunik Loz
AGE: 19
RANK: Unranked
SKILL: Death Armament (???)
DEATHS: 0
ARMAMENTS UNLOCKED: 0
Deaths: 0.
Armaments Unlocked: 0.
The words seemed to pulse, waiting. Expecting.
Drunik stared at them, his mind spinning.
I have to die. That's my power. Death.
Around him, the ceremony continued. More candidates received their skills, their grades, their futures. More Commons. More Uncommons. Another Epic (some kind of shield skill that made the crowd roar with approval).
And Drunik stood alone in his corner, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with a skill that required him to die.
The ceremony finally ended three hours later.
Chairman Stoneheart took the platform again for his closing speech, but Drunik barely heard it. Something about duty, about service, about humanity's future.
"—will receive your official rank assignments tomorrow—"
"—guild placement offers based on your grade—"
"—remember that every hunter matters, regardless of skill—"
Empty platitudes. Nice words that meant nothing for someone with an Unranked skill that literally everyone had laughed at.
The candidates were dismissed. The crowd began to file out, still buzzing with excitement, discussing the highlights—Seraphina's Legendary healing, Isolde's Epic ice, Marcus's Rare strength.
No one mentioned Drunik.
He was already forgotten.
The streets outside the Grand Awakening Arena were packed with families waiting to greet their newly-awakened children. Drunik pushed through the crowd, looking for the one thing he wasn't sure he wanted to find.
There—standing apart from the celebrating families, arms crossed, face like carved stone.
Voren Loz. His father.
Beside him, Drunik's mother Elena offered a tremulous smile, but her eyes were red-rimmed. She'd been crying.
Drunik approached slowly, each step feeling like walking to an execution.
His father didn't speak. Just stared at him for a long, horrible moment. Drunik could see the exact instant Voren's expression shifted from hope to disappointment to something worse—resignation. The look of a man who'd finally accepted his son would never be what he wanted.
Then Voren turned and walked away.
Just like that. No words. No explanation. He simply turned his back on Drunik and disappeared into the crowd.
Elena rushed forward, pulling Drunik into a tight hug. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
"Not your fault, Mom." Drunik's voice was flat, emotionless. He felt numb, like his body had decided to shut down rather than process everything.
"Your father just needs time to process—"
"To process that his son is useless?" The words came out harsher than Drunik intended. "That's what everyone thinks, Mom. You heard them. You saw the screens. Unranked. A skill that requires me to die."
Elena pulled back, gripping his shoulders. "Don't say that. You're not useless. Skills work in mysterious ways. Maybe there's more to this than—"
"Than what?" Drunik laughed bitterly. "Than what it says? 'Upon death, manifest weapons.' It's pretty clear, Mom. I have to die—probably multiple times—and somehow... what? Come back? Get power? It doesn't even say I CAN come back."
"Drunik—"
"I need to go home. I need to think."
He pulled away before she could respond, before he could see the pity in her eyes, and walked away into the thinning crowd.
Behind him, Elena stood alone, watching her son disappear, knowing there was nothing she could say that would help.
The Loz family apartment was on the fifth floor of a residential tower in Nexus City's middle district. Not wealthy enough for the upper levels, not poor enough for the lower. Just... middle. Average. Unremarkable.
Like Drunik himself.
He locked himself in his bedroom—a small space with a bed, desk, and window overlooking the city—and finally let himself feel everything.
Anger. Humiliation. Despair. Fear.
Death Armament.
He pulled up his status window again, forcing himself to read it carefully:
---
[STATUS]
NAME: Drunik Loz
AGE: 19
RANK: Unranked
SKILL: Death Armament (???)
DESCRIPTION: Upon death, manifest the instrument, concept, or force of demise as a permanent weapon or ability.
DEATHS: 0
ARMAMENTS UNLOCKED: 0
---
Upon death.
The words stared back at him, offering no comfort, no clarity, no hope.
"So I have to die," he muttered to himself. "Die, and then... what? Do I come back? Does the skill bring me back? Or do I just... die?"
The skill description said nothing about resurrection. Nothing about coming back. Just that he'd manifest weapons upon death.
Which could mean anything.
It could mean the weapon appears as he dies, useless to him.
It could mean his corpse becomes a weapon for someone else.
It could mean—
Stop, he told himself. Stop spiraling. Think.
But how could he think? How could he plan? His entire future had just imploded in front of ninety thousand people. His father had walked away without a word. His skill required him to die.
Drunik stood and walked to his window, staring down at the street five stories below. Families celebrating. Guild scouts meeting with candidates. Life continuing without him.
What do I even do now?
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Drunik?" His mother's voice, gentle and worried. "Can I come in?"
He opened the door. Elena stood there with a tray—dinner, his favorite soup, still steaming. She'd made it despite everything, despite the disaster, despite knowing he probably wouldn't want to eat.
"You need food," she said simply.
They sat together at his small desk in silence. Elena didn't try to make conversation, didn't offer platitudes. She just... stayed. Present. There.
Drunik picked at his soup, not really tasting it, while his mind continued to spin in useless circles.
Finally, after they'd both sat in silence for twenty minutes, Drunik spoke:
"What happens to Unranked awakeners?"
Elena set down her spoon carefully. "I... don't know. In thirty years of awakenings, I've never heard of an Unranked skill."
"So I'm the first."
"It seems so."
"Great." Drunik laughed bitterly. "I'm a pioneer. Historical footnote. 'Remember that kid with the death skill? Wonder what happened to him.'"
"Drunik—"
"Be honest, Mom." He looked at her directly. "What are my chances of becoming a real hunter? A successful one?"
Elena was quiet for a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice was steady but sad:
"I don't know. Truthfully, I don't know. The Federation has never ranked an Unranked skill. Guilds look at grades and classifications to determine hiring. You have neither."
She reached across and took his hand.
"But I know you, Drunik. You've never given up on anything in your life. Do you remember when you were eight and decided you wanted to climb Mount Keldran?"
Despite everything, Drunik felt a small smile tug at his lips. "Dad said it was impossible. That I'd never make it past the base camp."
"And you tried anyway. Broke your arm in three places, gave me a heart attack, and scared your father so badly he couldn't speak for an hour."
"Worth it for the view though."
"That's my point." Elena squeezed his hand. "You don't give up. You've never given up. So don't start now."
Drunik looked at their joined hands, then at his mother's face—lined with worry but fierce with love. The same face that had comforted him through skinned knees, failed tests, and now this.
"What if I can't figure it out?" he asked quietly. "What if this skill really is useless?"
"Then we'll find another path. Hunters aren't the only valuable people in the world. But Drunik—" She waited until he met her eyes. "—I don't think your skill is useless. I think it's something no one understands yet. Including you."
"A skill that requires death—"
"—might be exactly what the world needs. We don't know. But we won't know unless you try."
She stood, collecting the dishes.
"Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be hard enough without exhaustion making it worse."
She kissed his forehead and left, closing the door quietly behind her.
Drunik lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
The apartment's thin walls carried sounds from neighboring units—families celebrating successful awakenings, laughter, music, life continuing as normal.
His status window floated in the darkness:
---
[STATUS]
NAME: Drunik Loz
RANK: Unranked
SKILL: Death Armament (???)
DEATHS: 0
ARMAMENTS UNLOCKED: 0
Deaths: 0
The counter pulsed, waiting.
Upon death, manifest the instrument, concept, or force of demise as a permanent weapon or ability.
Drunik read the description for the hundredth time, trying to find some hidden meaning, some clue about how it actually worked.
Upon death.
Not "after death." Not "when you resurrect."
Just... upon death.
Which meant the skill activated when he died. But then what? Did he come back? Was there some automatic resurrection mechanic? Or did the weapon just appear and that was it—his corpse lying there with a new sword or whatever?
The skill doesn't say I'll resurrect, he realized with growing dread. It doesn't promise I'll come back. It just says I'll get a weapon "upon death." That could mean...
That could mean he'd die and stay dead, and the weapon would just exist somewhere, useless to him.
No, he thought desperately. That can't be right. What would be the point? An Awakening Stone wouldn't give someone a skill that just kills them permanently. That's not a skill, that's a death sentence.
Unless...
Unless the skill was meant for someone else to use. Someone who could die and be brought back.
And then it hit him.
Seraphina Light.
The girl with the Legendary healing skill. Divine Restoration. She could resurrect the recently deceased within 30 seconds.
Drunik sat up in bed, his heart suddenly pounding.
If I die... and she's there within 30 seconds... she could bring me back. And when I come back, would I have the weapon? Would the skill have activated?
It was insane. Completely insane.
He'd be betting his life on a theory. On the hope that his skill would give him something worth having, and that Seraphina could reach him in time, and that she'd even be willing to waste her power on someone like him.
But what other option did he have?
His skill required death to function. That was clear. And without some way to come back from death, the skill was literally useless.
Unless the skill itself resurrects me, he thought. But it doesn't say that. The description says nothing about resurrection.
So either:
The skill had a hidden resurrection mechanic it didn't mention He was supposed to die and stay dead (pointless) He was supposed to find a way to be resurrected by someone else
Option 3 was the only one that made sense.
And there was exactly one person in the entire world who could resurrect the dead: Seraphina Light.
I need to get close to her, Drunik realized. I need to befriend her, work with her, make sure she'd be willing to use her skill on me if I... if I die.
It was a long shot. More than a long shot
—it was desperate, bordering on suicidal.
Seraphina was S-rank. Legendary skill. She'd be swarmed by guild offers, protected by the Federation, probably assigned to elite teams within days. Getting close to her would be nearly impossible for an Unranked nobody.
But it was the only plan he had.
Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow I'll get my official ranking. See what guilds—if any—will even look at me. Then I'll figure out how to find Seraphina Light.
And somehow, I'll convince her to save me when I die.
Because I'm going to die. That's the only way this skill works.
The thought should have terrified him.
Instead, lying in the darkness with his status window glowing softly, Drunik felt something else:
Determination.
His skill required death? Fine. He'd die.
But he'd come back.
And when he did, the world that laughed at him would learn exactly what "Death Armament" meant.
---
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
SKILL: DEATH ARMAMENT
STATUS: Dormant
ACTIVATION REQUIREMENT: First Death
WARNING: Death must occur to initialize skill. Resurrection method: Unknown.