The awakening ceremony finally concluded.
The proctor approached Adrian slowly. "Mr. Blackwood, if you would accompany me."
Beside Adrian, Leo started forward instinctively, as he tried to follow his friend. However, the proctor’s raised hand stopped Leo mid-stride.
"You will be processed with the other awakened students," the proctor announced, "This is a separate matter entirely."
Adrian turned and offered a slow, knowing nod to Leo. The impossible SSS-Rank reading had already carved an invisible wall between them, one that Adrian knew would only widen exponentially with the passage of time. The paths of an ordinary elite and a cosmic anomaly simply could not run parallel.
Without another word, the proctor’s hand gestured toward a darkened corridor that Adrian had never noticed before, despite his keen eye for architectural detail. Its entrance was masterfully hidden in plain sight, marked only by subtle, almost imperceptible differences in the marble's flowing grain.
As they walked, the corridor stretched on far longer than the building's exterior dimensions should have logically permitted, a clear sign that space was actively bending around the architecture.
An elevator waited patiently at the corridor's end. The proctor’s palm pressed flat against a scanner embedded in the wall, which immediately hummed to life with rapid frequencies and the elevator doors opened.
"After you," she said, gesturing for him to enter the metallic carriage.
The elevator doors sealed seamlessly, and the carriage began to ascend. Adrian closed his eyes, sensing the mana as they passed each floor. He could vividly feel the ambient mana growing significantly denser with altitude.
With a soft chime, the doors opened onto a sprawling command chamber. The room was vast, lined with tactical holographic displays mapping out the monster-infested Wastelands beyond the city walls.
Adrian's parents stood near the room's center. Thomas Blackwood's large, scarred hand rested gently on his wife's shoulder, a silent gesture to calm her anxiety.
Beside them was a man whose very presence seemed to physically compress the chamber's atmosphere. This was General Ironwood.
Adrian's senses violently recoiled from the suffocating mana pressure radiating from the General. Where his parents' formidable power felt like intensely controlled, localized fire, Ironwood's presence was overwhelmingly heavy.
For the very first time in his life, Adrian encountered an A-Rank Defender whose strength noticeably exceeded his own parents.
"Thomas, Elara," the General's voice boomed, "Your son has created quite the stir today."
"An SSS-Rank user," Ironwood's piercing gaze fixed directly on Adrian, analyzing him, "The archives suggest that his specific affinity died out centuries ago during the first war."
Behind the imposing General, a massive display flickered continuously, looping Adrian's chaotic awakening data in streams of red and gold.
"The energy readings we recorded were... entirely unprecedented," the proctor interjected, her voice trembling slightly at the memory of the event. "The crystal nearly shattered under the strain of his manifestation."
Through the exchange, Adrian remained silent.
Elara Blackwood's gaze never left her son's face, searching for any sign of physical or mental strain. "Adrian, how do you feel? Are you experiencing any disorientation, pain, or unusual sensations in your mana channels?"
"I feel perfectly fine, Mother," his voice carried the exact same unshakable calm that had defined his personality since early childhood. He offered a reassuring smile. "Better than fine, actually."
General Ironwood's gaze remained cold as he sized Adrian up, measuring the boy's poise against the impossible readings on the screen.
"Adrian Blackwood," the General began, crossing his arms over his chest. "An SSS-Rank awakening is an event of staggering global significance. It is the very first recorded instance in all of human history."
"Ordinarily, you would go through standard placement and enroll in the regular curriculum. But you are not an ordinary case."
The General took a step forward. "You have been explicitly selected for the Global Defense Academy's 'Vanguard Program', a highly classified, specialized track reserved exclusively for the top one percent of humanity's prodigies."
Adrian's eyes narrowed as he remembered the rumors he had heard about the Vanguard Program.
The Vanguard Program was not merely a prestigious placement. It was a different type of training entirely. Usually, children entering the Academy were trained, shielded, and honed in safe simulators for years before being allowed anywhere near true battle. They learned theory, practiced formation discipline, studied monster behavior, developed their skills in carefully controlled environments, and only after proving sufficient stability were they gradually exposed to the harsher realities beyond the walls.
But the Vanguard Program followed what the Organization called the Primal Method. Those selected for it were sent directly into missions without years of prior training. The missions themselves became the training.
Of course, the public only knew a little about this program, and there was far more depth to it than the frightening rumors suggested. The missions were not deliberately suicidal, and guardians always accompanied the students to prevent the worst outcomes. Still, there were real chances of death in this program, since monsters did not always behave within expected parameters.
Overall, The Primal Method sounded, on the surface, like a braindead plan that threw children into true danger before they were ready. Yet the Defenders who graduated from the program had historically become significantly stronger than their peers. The Primal Method cut away hesitation, weakness, and illusion, leaving behind only those who could adapt fast enough to live.
It forced talent to mature under pressure, and in a world where monsters could shatter entire defensive lines, pressure was often the only teacher that truly mattered.
Adrian didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second. He met the General's imposing stare, "It would be my absolute honor, General. I swear I will not disappoint the Organization."
While General Ironwood looked visibly pleased by the boy's unflinching will, Elara immediately stepped forward, her maternal instincts temporarily fracturing her Defender's discipline. "General, please, the Vanguard Program... the risks involved are high. Is this truly wise, given the completely unknown, volatile nature of his Echo affinity?"
Her voice carried deep concern, because she knew the risks of the Vanguard Program better than almost anyone alive. She had been thrust into it when she was just a young teenager herself.
That blood-soaked crucible was exactly where she had first met Thomas, and both of them had nearly died countless times even while guardians actively protected them. The monsters beyond the walls were completely unpredictable, and anything could go wrong in a single unexpected moment. A guardian could be delayed, a beast could mutate, a mission classified as safe could turn into a slaughter before anyone understood what had changed.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Thomas’s hand settled firmly on her shoulder, "Elara, look at him. He is a Blackwood. We survived it against all odds, and he is our son; he can absolutely do it. This is his destined path."
His words carried the accumulated weight of their proud bloodline's eternal service, generations of agonizing sacrifice compressed into one simple, undeniable truth. "We are A-Rank Defenders today only because of the fires of this program, and he is our son," Thomas declared, "He was born for this."
…
Hours later, Adrian returned to the sprawling Blackwood estate with his parents. Without bothering to change out of their formal ceremony attire, Thomas and Elara led Adrian directly through the corridors to the family's massive private training hall.
The family training hall occupied the very heart of the estate, serving as a solemn cathedral of combat where generations of Blackwoods had bled, sweated, and forged their skills.
"You have exactly one week before you report to the Academy," Thomas stated, his voice echoing in the cavernous space.
“We are going to use every single moment of that time. From childhood, we have trained you for combat and mana control, so let's strip those basics away for now and focus on what matters. We need to find out what this SSS-Rank Echo affinity is truly capable of in practical application,” Thomas commanded, pacing slowly before his son.
"The EUO's data explicitly states that an Echo user must first fully comprehend a skill's fundamental theory to use it, or visually witness it being perfectly executed to mimic it. It also clearly states that any mimicked skill will inevitably be significantly weaker and vastly more inefficient than the original caster's version."
"We will bypass the theories and directly start with a skill," Thomas said, reaching into a secure vault set into the wall. He produced a strange, glowing sheet of material that defied easy categorization; it felt like part cold metal, part ancient parchment.
As Thomas handed it over, the skill book felt distinctly warm against Adrian's palm, its exotic surface alive with a thrumming energy that made his sensitive fingertips tingle with anticipation. Intricate, glowing runes writhed and shifted fluidly across its surface.
"This is the strongest F-Rank skill book I currently have with me in the estate," Thomas explained, "The complex runes upon it contain the codified, intrinsic knowledge of a specific skill."
"You must carefully channel your raw mana directly into it, and the encoded knowledge will be transferred directly to your mind," Thomas instructed. "But be warned, if your mind cannot logically comprehend the principles behind it, the knowledge will rapidly fade away like a forgotten dream."
Adrian respectfully accepted the F-Rank Fireball manual and sat cross-legged. To his observant parents, he appeared a deeply focused young prodigy facing his very first real, daunting test of power.
"Close your eyes, Adrian," Elara’s voice drifted over, carrying the soothing gentleness of a loving mother guiding her child's very first steps in the world. "Breathe slowly. Feel the mana flowing through your body first."
Adrian closed his eyes, his consciousness effortlessly sliding into his body and sensing his mana.
Then his fingertips made firm contact with the skill book's strange surface, and instantly, the dormant runes erupted into incandescent, blinding life. Raw knowledge violently surged into his waiting consciousness. It wasn't mere words; he was flooded with geometric blueprints of mana circulation that explicitly detailed the essential mechanics of atmospheric ignition, alongside complex thermodynamic principles that perfectly explained the violent union of pure energy and physical form.
For any normal, newly awakened teenager, this aggressive data stream would have been incredibly overwhelming, a mental assault that required hours of agonizing deciphering. But for Adrian, the foreign knowledge snapped into perfect place instantly within his mind.
For some reason, Adrian didn't feel like learning; it felt as if he was merely being reminded of a truth he had always known.
"Is this the source's doing?" Adrian thought, but didn't show any reaction outside.
To maintain his careful facade, he sat completely still, letting exactly ten minutes pass in silence while his parents watched him.
When the time was up, Adrian finally opened his eyes, meeting his parents' tense, expectant gaze. "I'm ready. I completely understand it."
Thomas and Elara immediately exchanged a wide-eyed look.
"Ten minutes?" Elara's voice visibly cracked, her overwhelming maternal pride fiercely wrestling with her deeply ingrained professional skepticism. "Adrian, that's simply impossible."
Her hands trembled almost imperceptibly at her sides, the only outward physical sign of the massive emotional earthquake currently reshaping her entire understanding of her son's terrifying capabilities. "Even the most gifted, once-in-a-generation prodigies take at least a full hour to barely comprehend an F-Rank skill on their very first attempt. Usually, Many fail."
"Then prove it. Show us," Thomas commanded, "Cast it."
Adrian smoothly extended his right hand, holding his palm facing toward the dummy target.
His mana responded with obedience, flowing rapidly through his internal pathways exactly as the runes dictated. There was no waste or struggle to force incompatible, stubborn energies into alien, unnatural patterns, because all energy was inherently his to command.
To any outside observer, he appeared to be strictly following the ancient manual's instructions with textbook precision, but his internal, hidden [Source] actively fixed the spell's broken structure.
Suddenly, a sphere of fire ignited brilliantly above his open palm, its roaring flames dancing in complex, mesmerizing patterns that seemed almost violently alive.
Without warning, Adrian thrust his hand forward. The compressed fireball streaked across the long training hall like a miniature comet.
The resulting impact violently resonated through the entire reinforced chamber. Intense, roaring flames exploded outward from the target dummy, instantly consuming the durable practice construct.
A suffocating silence stretched endlessly between the three of them. Thomas and Elara stood perfectly frozen in place, their composure entirely shattered by the impossible destructive force they had just witnessed from a supposed F-Rank skill.
"The diagnostics..." Thomas whispered hoarsely, his deep voice barely audible above the hungry flames that were still actively consuming the molten remains of the target dummy.
Elara practically sprinted to the nearby analytical console, her trembling fingers dancing frantically across the holographic interface displays that materialized at her rapid touch. Live energy readings cascaded down across multiple glowing screens in rapid streams of data.
Her face completely drained of all color as the chaotic numbers finally stabilized and solidified into undeniable truth.
"Thomas..." She turned slowly to look at her husband, "That wasn't an F-Rank skill. The power signature recorded is cleanly sitting near the E-Rank spectrum. It's... it's significantly stronger."
Hearing this, even Adrian was stunned. The practical test had vastly exceeded even his own lofty expectations.
It seemed the [Source] allowed him to cast a spell at a highly perfected level. Now, he had to explain this somehow... his mind churning rapidly, thinking of an explanation.
Soon, his explanation emerged with a masterfully crafted tone of uncertainty, each specific word meticulously thought of to plant deep seeds of a plausible truth while perfectly maintaining his necessary facade. "I... I'm really not sure what happened. When I comprehended the flow from the skill book, it just felt... incomplete."
He looked at his hands, feigning confusion. "The historical data says my Echo affinity is a 'blank slate,' a 'perfect mirror,' right? But what if it's actually more than just a simple mirror?"
Thomas leaned forward, his analytical mind eagerly seizing upon Adrian's words.
"When I learned the mechanics of the Fireball, it wasn't like just blindly memorizing a rigid script," Adrian continued, "It was exactly like looking at an architect's blueprint."
"The standard F-Rank blueprint they gave us felt... incredibly inefficient. I could clearly see wasted pathways in the prescribed mana flow, tiny but constant leaks of energy in the spell's core structure." Adrian gestured openly toward the still-smoking, ruined target dummy at the end of the hall. "It looked like it was deliberately designed to be simple, diluted, and highly stable so that literally anyone could safely use it without blowing themselves up."
"But when I cast the skill, my affinity... it didn't just passively copy that flawed blueprint. It automatically streamlined it." Adrian's explanation built rapid momentum, a beautiful lie of truth disguised as naive speculation. "It's like my mana intuitively saw the glaring flaws in the spell and instantly corrected them on the fly."
He spread his hands wide in a practiced gesture of innocent, wide-eyed bewilderment. "By trimming away all the wasted, bleeding energy and forcibly focusing all of it directly into the core of the spell... what came out wasn't a degraded, weaker copy at all, but a... a vastly refined version."
Thomas's stern expression shifted rapidly from deep confusion to something closely approaching true awe, his tactical mind rapidly processing military implications that stretched infinitely far beyond the scope of a single enhanced fireball.
"Maybe... maybe that's the real, hidden reason the Echo affinity historically has such a notoriously high mana cost, according to the old data," Adrian continued, his voice carrying the rising excitement of genuine discovery. "It's not because the act of copying is terribly inefficient like they thought."
"It's because this automatic, internal refinement process itself is incredibly power-intensive."
Thomas stood completely motionless, his mind violently wrestling with massive contradictions. The data clearly stated that Echo skills would always be drastically weaker than their originals, yet the smoking, ruined evidence directly before him painted a violently different picture entirely.
"It could be as you said..." Thomas said finally.
