The Grand Auditorium of the Neo-Lagos Awakener Academy was a marvel of 2053 engineering. Thousands of seats spiraled upward toward a vaulted ceiling that projected a real-time feed of the local sector's mana density. Today, the feed was a chaotic swirl of deep blues and purples—the signature of the "C-Rank Cluster" portals currently active in the city's outskirts.
Robin sat in the very last row, his hood pulled low. Down on the stage, the elite students were being called up one by one to receive their Standard-Issue Level 1 Skill Books.
"Leo Thorne," the instructor called out.
The crowd roared. Leo walked up with a confidence that only an A-Rank could possess. He touched a sleek, metallic tablet, and a beam of light shot into his forehead.
[A.I.S. NOTIFICATION]
New Skill Registered: [Arc Lightning - Rank 1]
Manufacturer: Gov-Tech Defense
"Next," the instructor droned. "Silas Sterling."
Silas walked up, glancing back toward the shadows where Robin sat. He received [Photon Flash]. As he walked back to his seat, he looked at the tablet in his hand—an extra one he'd managed to procure. He gave Robin a subtle nod, but Robin simply stared at his own lap.
"Finally," the instructor's voice took on a sharper, colder edge. "The scholarship student. Robin. Sector 7."
The whispers started immediately. A 'Void' student was a curiosity, like a car with no wheels. Robin walked down the long aisle, the eyes of a thousand students boring into his back. When he reached the stage, the instructor didn't even look at him. He just pushed a basic, scratched tablet forward.
"The government only provides the [Basic Meditation] book for Void-types," the instructor said, his voice flat. "It might help you stabilize your... absence. Not that it matters."
Robin touched the tablet.
[A.I.S. SCANNING...]
[COMPATIBILITY CHECK: 0%]
[NOTICE: SKILL 'BASIC MEDITATION' REJECTED BY THE VOID]
Robin pulled his hand back as if burned. He didn't say a word. He just turned and walked back, the tablet's rejection appearing as a red flickering error in his private HUD.
"Hey, Void King!"
A large student stepped into the aisle, blocking Robin's path. It was Marcus, a D-Rank Physical-type who had spent the entire morning bragging about his new [Ember Fist] skill. His hands were already smoking, a faint orange glow emanating from his knuckles.
"Instructor said we should test our new skills," Marcus grinned, his eyes glowing with the HUD's combat-assist. "How about you show us how that 'Void' of yours handles a little heat?"
The instructor on stage didn't intervene. In 2053, "spontaneous combat evaluation" was encouraged. It was the only way to gather data for the A.I.S.
"I don't have a skill to show," Robin said quietly.
"Then just be a punching bag," Marcus laughed. He lunged forward.
[A.I.S. COMBAT ALERT]
Enemy Target: Marcus (Level 1)
Detected Skill: [Ember Fist]
Trajectory: 78% Probability of Right Hook
Robin's 25 Intelligence didn't just show him a percentage. It showed him the air moving. He saw the mana swirling around Marcus's fist like a clumsy, unoptimized cloud. Because Marcus relied on the System to aim, his movements were rigid—telegraphed by the very AI that was supposed to help him.
Don't show the 15 Speed, Robin told himself. Keep it at 10. Just enough.
Marcus swung. The fist roared with fire.
Robin didn't dodge. He shifted his weight by a mere three inches—a basic Movement Art footwork he had practiced for hours in the orphanage. The flaming fist grazed his ear, the heat singeing a few strands of hair.
"Missed?" Marcus snarled. He swung again, a frantic left jab.
Robin stepped back, his eyes fixed on the "Space" between them. He felt that cold, sharp pull in his chest again. He wanted to reach out and "Delete" the fire on Marcus's hand. He wanted to fold the space between Marcus's jaw and the floor.
But he couldn't. Not here.
"Stop playing!" Marcus roared. He activated [Ember Fist: Overdrive]. His arm turned a bright, searing red. He charged, a full-body tackle intended to slam Robin into the auditorium wall.
Robin breathed out. He lowered his center of gravity. Instead of running, he used the [Sub-Space Anchor] concept he had been visualizing. He didn't have enough mana to hold it, but he had enough Intelligence to imagine the feeling of being unmovable.
Anchor.
Marcus hit Robin like a truck hitting a mountain.
A loud crack echoed through the hall. It wasn't Robin's bones. It was Marcus's shoulder. The D-Ranker recoiled, screaming in pain, his "Overdrive" fire sputtering out as his mana-flow was disrupted by the sheer physical impact of hitting something that refused to budge.
Robin stood perfectly still. To the audience, it looked like Marcus had just tripped or miscalculated his own strength.
[A.I.S. NOTIFICATION]
Manual Concept [Anchor] momentarily successful.
Mana Consumed: 0 (Manual Override)
Internal Damage: 5% (Strain from lack of mana support)
"What... what did you do?" Marcus gasped, clutching his shoulder.
"I just stood there," Robin said, his voice cold. "Maybe your Skill Book is a knock-off."
Robin walked past the groaning bully. The hall was silent now, the laughter replaced by a confused, uneasy murmuring. They hadn't seen a skill. They hadn't seen mana. They had just seen an S-Rank "Null" break a D-Ranker's arm by doing nothing.
As Robin reached the exit, his HUD pinged with a new, unauthorized message. It wasn't from Silas. It wasn't from the school.
[SENDER: UNKNOWN]
[MESSAGE: Nice footwork, Kid. The System didn't teach you that. Want to see what else the System is hiding from you?]
Robin's heart skipped a beat. He looked around the crowded hall, but everyone was staring at Marcus.
Someone was watching. Someone who knew the difference between a System Skill and a Human Art.
[Robin's Post-Sparring Status]
Attribute Value Status
Level 1 15% to Level 2
Intelligence 25 --
Speed 15 (Masked as 10)
Strength 10 --
Mana 0/0 VOID