The Awakening of Eden

Eden made his way downstairs, his steps steady despite the darkness that now consumed his world. The more he cultivated his breathing technique, the more mana particles he could perceive. At first, they had been nothing more than faint specks drifting in the void, but over time, their presence became clearer, forming shifting patterns in his awareness.

Recently, a thought had taken root in his mind—a hypothesis. If he could perceive enough mana, perhaps he could guide himself through it, constructing a new form of sight. Everything contained mana, even objects and people, while the air held much less. If his perception grew sharp enough, he might one day distinguish the world around him through a dense cloud of mana points, shaping a mental image of his surroundings.

It was still nothing more than a fragile theory. His perception wasn't refined enough to put it to real use, and the scattered particles he sensed were far from forming anything coherent. But it was a start.

The familiar scent of coffee filled the air, blending with the faint hum of the morning news playing in the background. His father sat at the dining table, the faint rustling of papers indicating he was sifting through documents—perhaps still trying to convince himself there was another way.

For the past few months, they had deliberated over Eden's future. His father had presented countless alternatives, ways to strengthen himself without throwing his life into danger. But for Eden, there was never a choice to be made. His path was clear.

His father sighed, the weight of his emotions slipping through just for a moment. "Eden, I know we've talked about this many times. And you know I will always support you. That is why I am willing to take you to the academy. But you have to understand where I am coming from… Your flaw—it is just too much. You should know it. You are weak, weaker than most. The academy is dangerous. You will go through trials where many before you have failed. Those who died weren't blind, and their mana had attributes. I just think you should reconsider."

The words hung heavy in the air. Eden understood his father's fear. He had felt it too, in the beginning, when the darkness first settled in. But he had to hide that fear away, it wouldn't help him. He exhaled slowly, his voice steady.

"Father, I know you are worried about me… But this is the only way. Tell me, would you rather I be blind and helpless, always relying on you for the rest of my life? Or would you rather see me use anything and everything at my disposal to become stronger—strong enough that even blindness will not be my downfall? Because for me, that isn't even a question. I will go to the academy, and I will prove to you that my choice is correct."

Silence stretched between them. Then, a quiet chuckle. "Bah. Kid, I always knew you were too much like your mom. Get ready. Let's go."

The car ride to Lorraine Academy was short, the benefits of living in the capital making themselves known. Through the window, Eden could hear the city coming to life—the faint chatter of pedestrians, the rhythmic thrum of passing vehicles, the occasional distant siren. His father remained mostly silent, though every so often, Eden felt his gaze linger.

Eden's Father

Despite my worries for my son, I couldn't help but feel admiration for the academy. It was a marvel of architecture and technology, standing tall as a symbol of humanity's perseverance. Built during the early days of mana's descent, its purpose had always been clear: to train the Awakened, ensuring the survival of mankind against an ever-growing threat.

I had walked these very halls once, years ago. Back then, the academy was far less refined—less structured. It had been dangerous, a crucible where only the strongest or the luckiest made it through unscathed. I was neither.

I still remembered the day I nearly lost my life. A combat trial that spiraled out of control, an opponent who didn't know when to stop, and a moment of hesitation that almost cost me everything. If not for her, I wouldn't have been standing here today.

Eden's mother had saved me that day, stepping in when no one else would. She had been reckless, infuriatingly stubborn, and utterly fearless. Even now, I could recall the sharp gleam in her eyes as she faced down an opponent twice her size without the slightest hesitation. We both walked away from that fight bruised and battered, but from that moment on, our paths had been intertwined.

The academy had shaped me, nearly broken me, but it had also given me the greatest treasure of my life. And now, my son was about to take his first steps into that same world.

Even now, as I stood before its towering gates, I could see the legacy it had built. Nearly all of the most prestigious and influential figures in the world had once been students here. Leaders, generals, innovators—everywhere you looked, the academies had shaped the course of history.

Yet prestige came at a cost. I clenched my hands behind my back, forcing myself to maintain my composure. The academy represented opportunity, but it also meant danger. I had seen too many promising young Awakened break under the weight of their potential. Some lost themselves in the relentless pursuit of strength; others never lived long enough to see their limits.

Eden had always been different, his mind sharp and driven. But ever since his Awakening, a part of me couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at my mind. The loss of his sight should have broken him, yet he refused to falter. There was something in his eyes—something beyond sheer determination. It scared me to think if it was true or a facade he put on to ease me.

I exhaled, steadying my thoughts. No matter my concerns, this was his path to walk. I could only hope that the academy would temper him rather than consume him

…

The registration process was simple. Every Awakened was seen as a potential asset, so applications were accepted from all citizens of the Lorraine Empire. Of course, acceptance was another matter entirely. The academy was vast, but not vast enough to hold everyone. The selection process involved an interview and introduction exams. Only those who succeeded would be admitted.

Since Eden had yet to regain his ability to write, he and his father completed the application together.

The Application:

Name: Eden de Sylvain

Age: 16

Average Stats: E+

Awakened Ability Aspect: Utility

Martial Arts: Yes

Mana Attribute: No

If Yes, What Attribute: N/A

(Optional)Flaw: Blind

Parent/Guardian: Eric Reatherford

Parent/Guardian Age: 42

....

The application was straightforward, asking for identification details, residential information, and parentage. For the "Average Stats" section, applicants were required to calculate their overall stats by averaging their Strength, Agility, and Stamina. Eden had a D- in Strength, and E+ in both Agility and Stamina. The flaw section was optional, but Eden saw no reason to leave it blank. His blindness was impossible to hide—anyone would realize it at a glance. Most were advised to keep their flaws a secret, yet Eden felt no need. Concealing the obvious served no purpose.

The hardest question for Eden to answer was the classification of his Awakened Ability. How did one categorize the ability to see into the future? Was it a heightened sense, making it a physical boost? A mental ability, resonating from the brain? Or was it best classified as a Utility—an ability that did not directly enhance combat strength but instead served as a complement?

After much deliberation, Eden marked it as Utility. While he could only use it sparingly—at least for now—it would be an aid to his survival.

What he didn't realize was that in this world, Utility abilities were often looked down upon. Strength was paramount, and if an ability didn't enhance one's combat prowess, it was considered inferior. Combined with his blindness and lack of a mana attribute, his application was enough to make the examiner do a double take.

'Is this kid serious?' The examiner scrutinized the document, frowning. He looked up, taking in Eden's unremarkable frame. His clothing fit well, and his posture was straight, but there was no air of strength about him. And then he noticed the boy's eyes—dull and lifeless.

He hesitated before speaking. "Hey, kid, I don't mean to be rude, and I know we accept all applications, but are you sure you want to go through with this? If I'm being honest, just based on your application, it doesn't look like you have very good chances of making it. In fact, very few people ever have applications this bad. I think it would be a good idea to reconsider."

Eden's father began to speak, his protective instincts flaring, but Eden was faster.

His response was swift, cold, and unwavering. "Thank you for your concern, but I have considered this decision many times. The academy is the correct choice for me. And I also know you have no right to refuse me, so can we please proceed?"

Raella Saint Perspective

The woman sitting nearby glanced up from her clipboard, her sharp gaze settling on the unfolding exchange. In all her years overseeing the selection process, she had never seen an applicant so openly advised to reconsider. The academy had no shortage of brutal truths, but such direct discouragement? That was rare.

Her interest piqued, she studied the boy in question. He was young—perhaps no older than sixteen—with short black hair and striking violet eyes, a rare hue even among the Awakened. But something felt off. The way he stood, the way his gaze hovered just past them rather than locking onto their faces.

Then she saw it.

His eyes.

There was no focus, no response to movement, no flicker of awareness at the shifting light in the room. The realization settled in like a weight. He was blind.

A truly devastating condition in their world.

For most, losing their sight would mean losing everything—their potential, their future, their very chance at survival. A blind Awakened was unheard of. How could someone fight with an enemy that they couldn't even see?

Yet the boy… didn't waver.

His voice carried no doubt, no hesitation—only a calm, unwavering certainty. It wasn't arrogance, nor was it reckless bravado. It was something far more dangerous. Conviction.

Raella had seen her fair share of prodigies. Those with talent, those with skill, those with raw power that set them apart from their peers. But will? True, unshakable will? That was rare.

She leaned back slightly, her fingers drumming once against her clipboard. Would his confidence endure once he was thrown into battle? Once he faced challenges that required more than words?

Or… was he already prepared?

Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer. There was something about him—something she couldn't quite place.

She made a mental note. She would keep tabs on this one. Many students entered the academy with potential, but very few walked in already carrying the weight of resolve. She had seen countless hopefuls rise and fall, their spirits crushed under the academy's relentless trials.

She was curious to see which fate awaited this boy.