As Azztheo stepped out of the medical center, the mid-morning sun had already climbed higher, casting long shadows across the neatly tiled paths of the academy. The slip of paper the nurse had handed him still felt warm in his pocket, as if it carried weight beyond its size.
He made his way back toward the dorms with a brisk pace, mind buzzing. The image of the nurse's calm expression and her words echoed in his head—mental scan, bloodwork, synchronization. For some reason, it all felt more real now.
By the time he reached his room, Jake was already there, sitting cross-legged on his bed, half-napping with a textbook open across his stomach. He looked up lazily when Azztheo entered.
"So?" Jake asked, brushing hair from his face. "All set?"
"Kind of," Azztheo replied, placing the appointment slip gently on his desk. "They've accepted my form, but the actual screening starts the day after tomorrow. They need final approval from the academy board since I'm right on the borderline of awakening readiness. Apparently, I'm... 48."
Jake whistled softly. "Two points away. That's damn close. Most people stall around the thirties for months."
"Yeah, but they said I should prepare. Starting today."
Jake sat up straighter. "Prep? Like how?"
Azztheo picked up a printed sheet the nurse had slipped into his folder. "Light meals, no meat, no greasy food. Lots of water. Moderate exercise, but no intense training until after the screening. And at least eight hours of sleep each night."
Jake gave a snort. "Sounds like a monk's life."
Azztheo laughed quietly, but his fingers tightened slightly on the page. "I guess they want to make sure my body's stable. If the gene injection goes wrong, it could mess me up."
"Yeah, I've heard stories," Jake said more seriously. "One guy from last year—he went in with a fractured spirit threshold and couldn't handle the strain. It's rare, but... you know."
There was a beat of silence between them.
Then Jake clapped his hands once, breaking the tension. "Alright. Monk-mode it is. I'll remind you if you try to sneak chips tonight."
Azztheo rolled his eyes. "I don't even like chips."
"Lies and slander," Jake grinned. "Anyway, let's get to lunch. I'll help you pick out something... leafy."
"Thanks, mom." Azztheo replied joking.
As they left the dorm room, the mood had lightened. But deep down, Azztheo knew that the next forty-eight hours were more than just preparation—they were the threshold between who he was now... and who he might become.
Just as they were walking, when a soft chime echoed through the hallway speaker above the training ground. Azztheo, who had just finished a round of controlled stretching exercises, paused as an automated voice followed:
"Student Azztheo Blackthorn. Please report to the Principal's Office. Repeat, Azztheo Blackthorn—report to the Principal's Office immediately."
Jake, mid-lunge nearby, blinked. "Whoa. That's… not normal. What'd you do?"
"Nothing," Azztheo said, wiping sweat from his brow. "At least… I think I didn't?"
"Well, either you're in trouble, or you're special," Jake smirked. "Could be both."
Azztheo grabbed his towel, took a quick gulp from his water bottle, and made his way across campus. The Principal's Office was located in the northern spire of the main administration building—an imposing gray tower draped in vines and etched with the academy's emblem: a silver flame rising from a shield.
As he climbed the winding staircase, each step echoed faintly. The air grew cooler, quieter.
He knocked once on the tall oak door marked Headmaster's Office. A second later, a deep, controlled voice responded.
"Enter."
Azztheo opened the door.
Inside, the room was spacious, with tall windows casting beams of light across polished stone floors. At the center sat a large obsidian desk, and behind it—Principal Caelan Virell, a man with steel-gray hair, a chiseled jaw, and eyes sharp enough to cut through silence. His presence alone was enough to demand obedience, though he barely moved.
To his left, a strange device pulsed gently—a circular crystal screen with layered scans of spirit flow and power readings. It was displaying Azztheo's name.
The Principal gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit."
Azztheo was visibly nervous and sat down obediently.
For a few moments, Caelan said nothing—he simply studied the file open in front of him. Then, he spoke.
"You've caused quite a ripple, Mr. Blackthorn."
Azztheo nervously blinked. "I… didn't mean to, sir."
"That's the interesting part," the Principal continued, voice like a calm blade. "You didn't mean to. But you did. You scored 48 on the power meter with no formal training. You've been admitted as a near-awakened despite never stepping foot in a training hall before last week. And,"—he tapped the screen—"being a son of two powerful superhuman has its perks."
Azztheo's heartbeat slowed. "Is it bad thing?"
The Principal didnt answer but tilted his head. "Your father. Garreth Blackthorn."
Azztheo expression visibly froze not knowing what is it about.
Caelan's voice softened, slightly. "He was one of the academy's most promising graduates—until the incident in the demon world. You bear his name. And your potential… it's uncanny."
Azztheo couldn't meet his eyes. He stared down at his clenched fists.
"I didn't know he was famous," he muttered.
"Your parents both were famous," the Principal replied. "They were respected, thats why you got such a offer and being given easy admission through backdoor. As they ultimately sacrificed themself for humans."
Silence.
Then, Caelan leaned forward. "Listen closely. You will proceed with the screening the day after tomorrow. But you must understand—once you awaken, you'll be visible. Certain... eyes… will turn toward you. Not all of them friendly."
Azztheo looked up. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because if you are anything like Garreth, then you will be humanities hope too." Caelan's expression darkened, but his tone remained even. "I want to increase the percentage for the victory of human side even small efforts counts."
Azztheo swallowed. The shard in his pocket seemed to grow heavier.
"I will live up to your expectations," he said quietly.
The Principal studied him a moment longer.
Then he stood and walked to the window, arms clasped behind his back. "Good. Dismissed. And Azztheo… train well."
Azztheo rose, nodded, and turned to leave. As he closed the door behind him, he felt the weight of the meeting settle in his chest.
He was no longer just a newcomer at Aetherfall Academy.
He was the son of Garreth Blackthorn and Claire Blackthron the powerful dou.
And now… he had to live up to that expectations.