The air in the Sector 7 Awakening Hall was thick with the hum of high-frequency data and the faint, ozone scent of the nearby containment fields. Above the rows of nervous sixteen-year-olds, a massive holographic clock flickered in the smoggy air.
2053.05.12 | 09:00:00
A chime, melodic yet cold, echoed through the hall. This was the moment of the Great Synchronization. For Robin, a kid who had spent seven years in a government-subsidized orphanage eating synthetic protein mash, this was the only way out.
"Pods active," the A.I.S. broadcast voice announced. "Please initiate neural link."
Robin stepped into his pod. The glass hissed shut, sealing him in a tomb of silence. A slender mechanical needle emerged from the headrest, hovering at the base of his skull where his childhood ID chip sat.
Please, Robin thought, his heart thudding against his ribs. Just give me something I can build on. A C-Rank, maybe a D-Rank... just enough to get a scholarship.
The needle moved. A sharp, electric sting shot through his spine as the A.I.S. surged into his brain.
[A.I.S. INITIALIZING...]
[BIOMETRIC AUTHENTICATION: SUCCESSFUL]
[USER: ROBIN (ORPHAN ID: S7-402)]
[STATUS: AWAKENING IN PROGRESS...]
His vision exploded into a kaleidoscope of data. He felt his mind being partitioned, mapped, and measured by the global network. Deep in his consciousness, a golden letter began to form, pulsing with a frequency that made his very teeth ache.
It was an [S].
Robin's breath hitched. S-Rank? The highest tier of human evolution. The kind of rank that led to mansions in the High-Sectors and a life of luxury. But as quickly as the gold appeared, it began to bleed into a deep, obsidian black. The A.I.S. chime glitched, a harsh static noise grating against his ears.
[WARNING: UNRECOGNIZED ENERGY SIGNATURE]
[ANALYZING APTITUDE...]
[ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
The golden [S] remained, but beneath it, a single word crystallized in a jagged, hollow font: [VOID].
The pod hissed open, releasing a cloud of cooling vapor.
Robin stumbled out, his head spinning. The hall was already in chaos. Students were shouting, fire sparking from fingers, skin turning to chrome, eyes glowing with psychic light. But a sudden silence rippled through the room as the massive leaderboard at the front of the hall refreshed.
At the top of the list, in a position that usually signaled the birth of a new national hero, Robin's name appeared in flickering white light.
1. ROBIN (SECTOR 7) — RANK: S — APTITUDE: VOID (UNUTILIZABLE)
A ripple of laughter started in the front rows and surged backward.
"A Void S-Rank?"
"Is that a joke? He's a walking vacuum."
"The highest rank in the world, and he can't even light a candle. It's a dead-end."
Robin lowered his head, his face burning. In the world of 2053, a Void aptitude was a known "glitch." It meant the person had a massive mana capacity, but no way to channel it. It was like having a massive fuel tank but no engine to burn it.
Silas Sterling, dressed in a suit that cost more than Robin's entire neighborhood, stepped toward him. Silas's eyes were glowing with the soft, blue light of an [A-Rank Photonic] user.
"Robin," Silas whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Stay calm. There has to be a way to utilize it. My father knows people—specialists in the High-Sectors. We can fix this."
"You can't fix a hole, Silas," Robin said, his voice tight. "The System says it's empty. That means it's empty."
He turned and walked toward the exit, his shadow stretching long across the sterile floor. He didn't tell Silas that his private HUD wasn't just showing a hole. It was showing a prompt the government's sensors hadn't picked up.
[A.I.S. PRIVATE LOG]
Current Status: Unbound.
Notice: Standard Skill Books are incompatible with the Void.
Notice: Manual Conceptualization Required.
[Robin's Initial Status]
Attribute Value A.I.S. Diagnostic
Level 1 (S-Rank: +15 SPPL)
Rank S Permanent
Aptitude VOID (Unknown Variable)
Strength 10 Baseline Human
Speed 10 Baseline Human
Intelligence 15 Above Average
Mana 0/0 ERROR: VACUUM DETECTED
UNALLOCATED STAT POINTS: 15]
Robin walked out into the acid-neon rain of the city. He looked at his hands. He didn't feel "empty." He felt a cold, sharp clarity—a sense that the world around him wasn't a solid place, but a fabric. And for the first time in his life, he felt like he was holding the scissors.
The System called him a "Void."
Fine, Robin thought, his eyes narrowing as he watched a hover-car zip through the spatial coordinate he was already mapping in his mind. If they want a Void, I'll give them one.