The air in the gymnasium of Aetheria High was thick with more than just the humidity of a summer morning; it was heavy with the suffocating weight of desperation. It had been fifty years since the "Great Resonance," the day the Qi returned and shattered the laws of physics. Now, in 2076, your soul was your currency.
Arthur stood at the back of the line, his hands tucked neatly into his pockets. His face was a mask of bored indifference, but behind his dark eyes, a predator was calculating. He watched his classmates ahead of him. Some were trembling, others praying to gods that had long been replaced by Sect Leaders and Immortal Corporates.
"Next: Marcus Thorne," the evaluator barked.
A boy stumbled forward, placing his hand on the obsidian pillar. The crystal atop the pillar hummed, glowing a dull, muddy brown.
"Earth Root. Low Grade. Allocation: Manual Labor Force, Construction Sector," the evaluator droned, recording the result without looking up. Marcus collapsed. His life, for all intents and purposes, was over before it began.
Arthur inwardly sneered. Pathetic. To rely on the "mercy" of a crystal was the first mistake.
While the others saw this day as a judgment, Arthur saw it as a starting line. He didn't just want a "Heavenly Root"; he wanted the power to manipulate the very system that defined them. He had spent years studying the old texts, the forbidden lore of the early awakening, and the hidden mechanics of Qi flow. He knew that the pillar didn't just measure potential; it measured resonance. And resonance could be faked if one was clever enough.
"Arthur Pendragon," the voice rang out.
A few whispers broke out. Arthur was known for being the top of his class in theory, but theory meant nothing without the "gift."
He walked forward, every step measured. He reached the obsidian pillar. It felt cold, hungry. As he placed his palm against the smooth surface, he didn't just let his energy flow. He suppressed it, twisting the Qi in his meridians into a sharp, jagged spiral, mimicking the frequency of a "Mutated Lightning Root"—a rarity that would grant him immediate access to the elite academies and, more importantly, their restricted libraries.
The crystal began to vibrate. A flicker of blue sparks danced within the depths of the obsidian. The evaluator finally looked up, eyes widening.
"Wait... this frequency..."
Arthur watched the man's reaction with a hidden, malicious glee. The game had finally begun, and the world had no idea that its most dangerous "cultivator" was currently standing in a high school gym, smiling like a saint while thinking like a demon.