The hall felt too big for comfort.
It wasn't just the size—it was the pressure. The kind that sat on your chest and made it hard to breathe if you thought about it too much.
Sixteen.
That was all it took. Sixteen years of living, and today decided the rest.
Malik stood near the back, leaning against a cold pillar, hands in his pockets. From there, he could see everything—the stage, the crowd, the glowing black monolith at the center.
People kept whispering.
Some were excited. Some were scared.
Most were pretending not to be either.
He understood that.
"Arden Cole."
A boy walked up, shoulders stiff, trying to look confident. Malik had seen him around before. Loud. Popular.
Arden placed his hand on the monolith.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then light spilled out, soft at first, then bright enough to make people shield their eyes.
A screen appeared in front of him.
«[Skill Acquired: Flame Manipulation – Rank C]»
Cheers broke out almost instantly.
Arden laughed, relief all over his face, like he'd just been handed his future and it wasn't disappointing.
Malik watched quietly.
C-rank. Not amazing. Not bad.
Enough to matter.
More names were called.
"Iris Vale."
«[Skill Acquired: Wind Step – Rank B]»
Louder cheers this time.
"Darius Kain."
The moment his result appeared—
«[Skill Acquired: Iron Body – Rank A]»
The whole room reacted.
Even the officials looked impressed.
Malik let out a slow breath.
Of course.
There were always people like that. The ones who didn't just pass—they stood out.
For a second, he wondered what that felt like.
To step forward and know something good was waiting.
"Malik Draven."
His name pulled him back.
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then he pushed off the pillar and walked forward.
Each step felt… heavier than it should have.
Not because of fear exactly.
Just… uncertainty.
He climbed the platform and stopped in front of the monolith.
Up close, it didn't feel like a machine.
It felt… quiet.
Like it was waiting.
Malik swallowed and placed his hand on it.
The hall went still.
He waited.
Nothing.
He frowned slightly.
Usually it was quick. Almost immediate.
A flicker. A glow. Something.
But now—
Just silence.
A few people shifted in their seats.
"Why's it taking so long?"
"Did it glitch?"
Malik pressed his hand down a little harder, like that would help.
"Come on…" he muttered.
Then—
Something.
A faint flicker of light.
Relief hit him before he could stop it.
The screen began to form in front of him, but it wasn't like the others.
It was dim.
Unsteady.
Like it couldn't quite decide what it wanted to be.
The text appeared slowly.
«[Skill Acquired: ———]
[Rank: —]»
Malik blinked.
The words… didn't look right.
They wavered, like a bad signal.
Then they changed.
Just like that.
«[Skill: None]»
He stared at it.
Waiting for it to fix itself.
To update.
To do something.
It didn't.
Behind him, the silence broke.
A quiet laugh.
Then another.
"…No way."
"Is that even real?"
"No skill?"
Malik pulled his hand back.
The screen vanished immediately.
Like it had never been there.
"…What?" he said, more to himself than anyone else.
No one answered.
The official cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.
"…Next."
That was it.
No explanation. No second check.
Just move on.
Malik stepped down from the platform.
The walk back felt longer than before.
People weren't even trying to hide it now.
"Useless…"
"Didn't even get F-rank…"
"Why was he even here?"
He kept his face blank.
Didn't look at anyone.
Didn't react.
But each word stuck.
Not loud enough to be called out.
Just quiet enough to sink in.
Up in the stands, he spotted his parents.
His mother looked confused. Like she was waiting for someone to say it was a mistake.
His father didn't meet his eyes.
Malik looked away first.
---
The walk home was quiet.
Too quiet.
Usually there'd be people talking about their results, celebrating, arguing.
Today, no one walked beside him.
No one even slowed down near him.
It was like there was space around him now.
Unspoken.
Intentional.
By the time he reached home, the sky had already started to darken.
He stepped inside.
His mother was in the kitchen, wiping the same spot on the counter over and over.
His father sat at the table, staring at nothing.
"…I'm home," Malik said.
His voice felt smaller than usual.
His mother glanced at him, forcing a soft smile.
"That's… good."
She didn't ask how it went.
She already knew.
Malik nodded and started toward his room.
"Malik."
He stopped.
Turned.
His father didn't look angry.
Just… tired.
"Sit."
Malik sat across from him.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
"…What happened?" his father asked.
Malik shrugged slightly.
"I didn't get anything."
Saying it out loud felt worse.
More real.
His father frowned.
"That's not possible."
"I know."
Another pause.
His father rubbed his face, like he was trying to figure something out that didn't make sense.
"…We'll think of something," he said eventually.
It sounded forced.
Like he didn't believe it.
Malik nodded anyway.
"Yeah."
He stood up.
"I'm going out."
Neither of them stopped him.
---
The air outside was cooler now.
Easier to breathe.
Malik walked without thinking, hands in his pockets, head down.
He didn't really have a destination.
He just didn't want to stay inside.
Didn't want to sit in that silence.
His thoughts kept circling back to the same thing.
Nothing.
Not weak.
Not low rank.
Just… nothing.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
At first, he ignored them.
Then they got closer.
"Hey."
Malik stopped.
Turned slowly.
Three guys stood a few feet away.
He recognized them.
Same hall. Same ceremony.
Different results.
"Well, look who it is," one of them said, smirking. "The guy with no future."
Malik didn't respond.
Didn't move.
Another one stepped forward.
"Didn't expect to see you out here. Thought you'd be hiding or something."
A shove.
Malik stumbled back slightly but stayed on his feet.
"Not even an F-rank," the third one laughed. "That's actually impressive."
Another shove.
Harder this time.
He fell.
Pain shot through his side as he hit the ground.
Hands grabbed his shirt, pulling him up just enough to hit him again.
A punch to the stomach knocked the air out of him.
He doubled over, coughing.
They laughed.
"Do something," one of them said.
Malik didn't.
Couldn't.
What was he supposed to do?
Another hit.
His vision blurred for a second.
The sounds around him started to feel… distant.
Like they were coming from far away.
His hands pressed weakly against the ground.
Cold pavement.
Rough.
Real.
And then—
Something felt off.
Not around him.
Inside him.
A faint sensation.
Hard to describe.
Like something shifting.
Waking up.
It wasn't warm.
Wasn't comforting.
It felt… empty.
But not in the way he had felt earlier.
This was different.
This was… hungry.
Malik's fingers twitched.
His breathing slowed.
The voices around him faded further.
For a brief moment—
Everything went quiet.
Too quiet.
And somewhere deep inside—
Something opened its eyes.
---
To be continued…