Adam stumbled out of the portal, boots skidding against stone. Fyren’s grip loosened before he could make sense of where they’d landed.
“We are here,” the Aviskin said. “Take care.”
Adam spun around—but the guard was gone. The portal too.
He exhaled a quiet laugh. This place just keeps getting weirder.
“Are you the new student?” a sharp voice called out.
He turned. A woman with a greenish-purple mohawk stood a few paces behind, hands clasped behind her back. Her black uniform gleamed under the moonlight, every button perfectly aligned.
“Are you deaf?” she snapped. “Stop staring and answer me.”
“Yeah,” Adam said, brows furrowed. “I’m new. Where do I find the registration hall?”
Her eyes narrowed, studying him as though trying to decide whether he was mocking her.
“Follow me,” she finally said and strode ahead.
Adam watched her go, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Please don’t be another cliché hard-ass.
He sighed and followed, his boots crunching against the cobblestone path.
The silence between them was thick. She gave no sign she’d entertain questions, so Adam kept his thoughts to himself, eyes roaming across his surroundings. Three enormous buildings loomed over them, their shadows swallowing most of the courtyard. Yet, not a single person crossed their path.
Where did she even come from? She hadn’t been there when he’d arrived.
He brushed the thought aside as they passed a grand fountain—nine serpentine heads twisting skyward, each one spouting arcs of light-tinted water. The air shimmered with mist, cool and fragrant. Between the buildings lay fields of luminous flowers, benches half-hidden in their glow. Floating orbs drifted above, competing with the moonlight for dominance.
“Can you walk faster?” she called back without turning. “I won’t be held responsible if you get lost.”
Adam chuckled under his breath. Charming.
A few minutes later, they stopped before a sign carved in stone: Registration Hall.
The woman leaned against it, arms folded. “Go in and get tested. I’ll take you to your dorm after.”
“What kind of test?” he asked.
She didn’t answer—her attention fixed lazily on the building ahead.
Adam sighed and moved toward it.
The structure towered over him, draped in vines and blooming flowers that climbed its outer walls. It looked more alive than built, petals breathing under the night air. He scanned the fa?ade for an entrance and frowned. No doors. Just a wall of flowers so thick it seemed impossible to pass through.
Is this even a door?
He approached, inhaling a swirl of rich fragrances. The blossoms shifted subtly in the wind, almost as if watching him. When he glanced back for help, the mohawked woman wasn’t even looking his way.
Perfect. Lead me here, then pretend I don’t exist.
“New student or active student?” a flat voice asked from nowhere.
Adam froze. “New student.”
The pink flowers suddenly flared to life, radiating an intense glow. A sweet, heady mist poured out, twisting the air until space itself seemed to fold. Adam instinctively stepped back, but the ground rippled, and a portal opened where the flowers had been.
“Proceed to the first floor,” the same voice instructed.
He took a breath, then walked through.
Light fractured and reformed around him. When his vision cleared, he stood in a spotless white chamber tiled from floor to ceiling. The air was still, almost sterile.
Where is this?
A disembodied voice echoed: “Welcome to the testing ground for Year One recruits. You will undergo a series of trials to evaluate the level of your Blessing.”
The tiles flushed red.
Adam shifted his stance. Straight into it, huh.
A bone-chilling howl erupted from somewhere ahead. The wall in front of him split open, a line of darkness yawning wider.
[Danger!]
[Demonkin Detected]
[Establishing Connection to Omen…]
[Connection Successfully Established.]
Adam clenched his fists, a pulse of energy running through his arms. Mist poured from the opening, and through it, a monstrous outline began to form.
“You have ten minutes to eliminate the unranked Demonkin,” the voice continued. “Failure will result in termination of admission.”
A shrill alarm cut through the air. Adam’s heartbeat stayed steady, his eyes fixed on the shape emerging from the mist.
“State your weapon of choice,” the voice said. “It will manifest before you.”
He whispered, and a scatter of weapons appeared across the floor: blades, axes, halberds, daggers, each gleaming faintly under the red light.
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A thunderous roar shook the chamber. The mist burst apart, revealing a hulking creature with sores glowing crimson across its flesh. Thick yellow fluid oozed from the wounds, hissing when it hit the ground. Its elephantine trunk coiled like a snake, eyes black and bottomless.
Adam smirked. “Finally.”
“You may begin,” the voice announced.
The creature’s body pulsed, its sores flaring from crimson to a venomous purple. A sickening shriek tore through the room. It crouched low, trunk coiling tight—then shot forward like a spear. Viscous, foul-smelling fluid streamed from its tip, sizzling where it landed.
Adam exhaled softly, hand raised.
A snap rang out.
Every weapon on the floor shuddered, then lifted as if tugged by invisible strings. Another snap—and they flew.
Steel tore through flesh before the Demonkin even reached him. Spears burst through its skull; blades severed limbs mid-lunge. Daggers buried themselves deep into its torso until the air reeked of scorched rot. The body hit the ground in silence—already lifeless.
“Congratulations on clearing the first trial in thirty seconds. Please avoid approaching the corpse. The next trial will begin in nine minutes.”
[Congratulations! You have received 1 Omen Point!]
Adam’s eyes lingered on the carcass, black fluid pooling beneath it. The voice’s flat tone faded, replaced by the low grind of shifting stone. The wall opposite him groaned open again.
Didn’t they say nine minutes?
Mist spilled into the room, thick and cold. From within it came the faint rattle of chains. Adam stepped back, muscles tightening.
The sound grew louder—then the corpse jerked. Dozens of chains burst from the wall, hooking into the remains and dragging them into the haze. The noise of tearing flesh echoed for a heartbeat before the wall sealed shut.
The last weapon clattered to the ground, then dissolved. The tiles faded from blood-red to white once more.
“Student 009, your results have been updated. You are ranked twenty-first.”
Adam blinked. Twenty-first?
He’d crushed the thing in half a minute. That meant twenty other students had been faster—or stronger. The thought twisted into a grin. Maybe I should’ve gone all out from the start.
“Congratulations. You’ve earned a reward for placing within the top fifty. Choose between the Passage of Emria and the Works of Pyren. Your selection will be finalized after all trials.”
Adam’s brow furrowed. Vicar really screwed me over not letting me study. He didn’t even know what either option was. Probably something important. Probably something he’d regret choosing blindly.
He stretched his arms, pacing slowly, boots tapping against the tile. The air still smelled faintly of iron and ash.
Minutes bled by before the white tiles flushed red again.
“The next trial will determine whether you harbor ill intent toward Varidan Towers. It will also test for demonic influence.”
Adam remained indifferent. I might be fucked…
“In essence,” the voice added, “it will confirm whether you are Omen Awakened.”
Adam’s fingers curled loosely at his sides. The calm that had carried him through the first fight returned.
I can’t afford to give myself away at this juncture.
A piercing tone suddenly stabbed through Adam’s skull. He staggered forward, vision blurring, limbs refusing to obey.
What the hell—
The wall ahead split open, spilling pale light into the room. Two towering silhouettes stepped through.
“I don’t want to be here this late,” one grumbled, voice thick and rough. “I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”
“Then complain later,” the other snapped. “We finish this and leave.”
Adam forced his eyes open. The newcomers loomed above him—bodies human, but their heads grotesque and animal: one an elephant, the other a rhino.
What… are they?
“Sleep,” the elephant-headed one commanded.
The world tilted. Darkness rushed in like a tide, and Adam’s knees buckled.
He opened his eyes to shallow water shimmering under a star-choked sky. The air here smelled clean, too clean, and the horizon folded into infinity.
“Why this place again?” he muttered, pushing himself upright.
The reflection beneath him rippled—then a low, guttural laugh crawled through the silence.
“Have you forgotten you’re Omen Awakened?” the voice asked, heavy with disdain.
Adam smirked. “And what good would remembering that do? If I pass, I pass. If not, it’s Korgrath’s lucky day.”
“What nonsense!” the voice spat. “You think I want to die with you?”
The water quivered as though it had been struck. Stars flickered brighter in the reflection—then began to move.
“Time is running out,” the being growled. “Look—the stars are shifting. Someone is coming here.”
Adam tilted his head back. A vortex distorted the heavens, spiraling toward him. Something’s coming.
“Release me,” the demon hissed. “It’s the only way they won’t sense me.”
Adam’s lips curved. “You sound desperate.”
“You know what happens if they find me,” it snapped. “You’ll die before you can blink!”
He said nothing, gaze still fixed on the whirlpool sky. Vicar wouldn’t have sent me here if I could be exposed. He’s insane, not stupid… I think.
“Adam!” the demon roared.
He looked down at the hazy form swirling in the water. “You know what I want. Tell me, and I might consider it.”
The heavens split open with a thunderous crack. Ripples surged outward, throwing Adam off balance.
“They’re almost here! Release me!”
Adam ignored it. The crack widened; a haunting, almost celestial melody drifted through the air.
“Adam, please!” the voice pleaded now. “We can still survive. You can still have your revenge.”
He frowned. “I can’t even trust you.”
“What do you want, then? Say it!”
Adam’s eyes glinted. “Merge with me. If we’re one, they’ll never find you.”
“You think I don’t see your plan?” the voice snarled. “You want to cage me.”
“Then don’t,” Adam said, shrugging. “We’ll die together.”
The vortex screamed overhead, music swelling into violent crescendo. Light tore open the sky.
“Fine!” it howled. “I accept. Now, release me!”
Adam smiled. “Give me your power first.”
The shadow twisted, condensing into a black pebble that pulsed with sick light.
“Take me,” the voice growled. “My strength will be yours. But remember this—someday, you’ll beg me to take it back.”
Adam reached out without hesitation. The pebble burned through his palm like molten iron, boring into his flesh before dissolving into smoke.
Fire raced through his veins. Hunger followed—deep, gnawing, and endless.
He fell to his knees, choking back a scream as the sky above ruptured again. The melody vanished, replaced by a roar like crashing waves.
Adam lifted his head. The calm black sea he’d known was gone—mountainous waves surged in every direction, churning under a sky ripped apart by light. One crest rose higher than the rest, its shadow swallowing the stars before it lunged like a spear and shattered the vortex above. Another wave crashed before he could react. The impact buried him in roaring darkness.
He jolted awake, lungs burning. Coughs wracked his chest as he rolled onto his side, gasping for air. The tiled floor pressed cold against his skin. He was back in the trial room. The animal-headed figures were gone, as though they’d never existed.
“Congratulations,” the mechanical voice chimed. “You have successfully passed the second trial.”
Adam stayed down, dragging in ragged breaths. Feels like I just got hit by an eighteen-wheeler.
He tried to move, but his limbs trembled, heavy as stone.
[Congratulations! Three locked skills have been unlocked.]
[Omen Points: 12 (Insufficient Omen Points to induce a rank upgrade.)]
The glowing text lingered in his vision before fading into static beeps.
“Student 009,” the voice resumed, calm as ever. “Your results have been updated. Based on the trial data, your rank is now fortieth among Year One candidates. Detected Blessing level: E. Proceed to register your Blessing’s name at the Records Department.”
Adam blinked, disbelief cutting through his fatigue. Rank E?
He forced himself upright, every muscle protesting.
“Please proceed to Emria Hall or Pyren Valley to claim your reward,” the voice concluded.
The room dimmed again, leaving Adam alone with his thoughts—and a dull ache in his chest that refused to fade.
