The heavy door of the principal's office clicked shut behind Azztheo as he stepped into the corridor, the echoes of his footsteps following him like a second shadow.
He walked in silence, thoughts storming in his head. The weight of Garreth Blackthorn's legacy—the warnings, the possibilities, the danger—it all pressed down on him like invisible chains. The breeze outside had grown cooler, but it did little to lift the heaviness in his chest.
As he neared the southern courtyard, he spotted Jake leaning against a bench, sipping from a metal water flask and tossing a pebble in the air absentmindedly.
"Yo!" Jake waved casually. "Took you long enough. Thought they were gonna expel you or something."
Azztheo forced a small grin and walked over.
Jake didn't press further. He didn't ask why Azztheo had been called. And Azztheo was grateful. For now, he didn't want to speak of it—not the conversation, not the name Blackthorn, not the strange flicker of respect and fear in the Principal's eyes.
Instead, he let out a deep breath. "I want to train harder."
Jake raised an eyebrow. "You serious? We've been training all day. You still got more juice left, man you are tough guess i ant slack behind?"
"Lets go i want to check out the gravity training room," Azztheo said. "Push myself more."
Jake blinked, then his expression turned grim. "Yeah… about that. Some bad news."
Azztheo looked at him.
"You can't access it," Jake explained. "Gravitational chambers are only open to awakened students. Entry requires points—academy credits. And those points? You only earn them by completing missions, classes, or… winning duels."
"Duels," Azztheo repeated eager to try.
"Yup. Against awakened students," Jake broke his delusion and said. "So, its basically impossible for us right now. The second you step into the ring with someone who's awakened, you're toast so better scrape that idea if you are not asking to be beaten just for the sake of being beaten without rewards."
Azztheo clenched his jaw but didn't argue. He knew Jake was right.
Still… he couldn't let that stop him.
"Alright then," he said. "We'll do what we can."
And so, they trained.
In the empty grass fields behind the west wing, where the sun cast long shadows and the air smelled of dust and sweat, Azztheo dropped into push-ups—sets of thirty, over and over. Jake joined him, running footwork drills, sparring lightly, practicing strikes and counters.
There were no fancy machines or weighted chambers. Just hard work, muscle, and grit.
By sunset, their shirts clung to them like second skin. Their arms ached, their legs trembled. But neither of them stopped until exhaustion forced them down onto the grass, panting under the orange sky.
Later that night, back in the dorms, Azztheo lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His body ached, but his mind wouldn't quiet. The image of Lyra's lightning crackling through the air, the Principal's eyes, they all stirred something inside him. He wanted to be awakened superhuman like never before.
The next morning, Azztheo rose early. The sun had barely stretched across the horizon, casting pale gold light over the academy's tiled rooftops. After freshening up and throwing on his training clothes, he moved quietly through the dorm halls.
He knocked on Jake's door. "Wake up, sleepyhead."
A muffled groan followed. "It's not even sunrise…"
"Five minutes," Azztheo said, smirking. "I'll be outside."
They met just outside the dorm building and made their way off-campus, where the early-morning streets were still quiet. They grabbed a light breakfast from a small student-friendly diner—boiled eggs, toasted flatbread, and warm herbal tea.
By the time they returned, the morning physical class was already filling with half-awake students. Instructor Jonathan stood in his usual place, arms crossed, eyes sharp as ever.
The drills were merciless.
Laps around the field. Combat stances. Partner sparring. Azztheo pushed through it all with grit, sweat dripping into his eyes. Jake, surprisingly, kept up. By the time the session ended, both of them were breathless but optimism and fighting spirit in their eyes.
Noon bells rang. While others walked toward the cafeteria, Azztheo turned in the opposite direction—toward the medical center.
His appointment had been scheduled.
Today was the screening—one of the final steps before his gene activation could be approved.
He entered the white-walled medical facility, its halls cool and clean. The scent of antiseptic filled the air. Inside the reception, a staff member in uniform looked up from a clipboard.
"Name?"
"Azztheo Blackthorn. I'm here for my pre-awakening screening."
The staff nodded and gestured toward a door at the far end. "Room 3. Dr. Yela will be with you shortly."
Azztheo walked down the hall and entered the room, where a sleek bed, several scanning devices, and a console panel awaited. He sat, heart pounding, not from fear—but from anticipation.
This was it.
Just one step closer to unlocking the potential within him.
To stepping beyond the shadow of unawakened weakness.
And claiming the power that waited on the other side.
Azztheo sat on the examination bench in Room 3, trying not to fidget. The silence in the medical center was heavy—only the soft hum of machines filled the air. He stared at the bright white walls, his thoughts racing.
Will it hurt? What if I'm not ready?
The door opened with a soft hiss.
A tall woman in a crisp lab coat entered, holding a slim tablet in one hand. Her silvery-gray hair was tied into a neat bun, and she wore sleek medical gloves. Her presence was calm, professional.
"You must be Azztheo Blackthorn," she said, glancing at her tablet. "I'm Dr. Yela. I'll be conducting your pre-awakening screening today."
"Yes, ma'am." Azztheo replied with some nervousness and anticipation.
"No need to be nervous," she said with a small smile. "This is just a series of scans and assessments to check your readiness. We don't administer the serum until full approval comes in from the council physician and principal."
She gestured to a circular platform at the center of the room, ringed by softly glowing lights. "Please step onto the analyzer."
Azztheo obeyed, standing in the center of the platform. The moment his feet touched the metal floor, the lights brightened slightly.
"Stand still, arms slightly apart. You'll feel a light buzz—its totally harmless," she reminded.
The machine hummed to life.
Thin beams of blue light moved from head to toe, scanning his vitals. A soft chime echoed with every pass—one for muscle density, one for organ condition, one for skeletal structure, and another for neural response. On the wall behind Dr. Yela, data streamed rapidly across a large monitor.
"Your physique is strong for someone not yet awakened," Dr. Yela murmured, her eyes flicking across the data. "Muscle fibers compact and reactive. Core stamina above average."
The scanning finished with a soft beep.
"Good. Now we'll proceed to neural link response."
She walked over and handed him a thin, metallic band.
"Place this on your forehead. It reads how well your brain can handle the gene-serum's side effects—hallucinations, heat surges, elemental resonance, and mental instability."
Azztheo did as instructed. The moment the band touched his skin, a low pulse throbbed through his head.
Flashes of light.
Then stillness.
The monitor flared again with readings.
"Neural resilience… 86%," Dr. Yela said with a blink of surprise. "Remarkable. That's extremely high for someone unawakened. No signs of overload. You're mentally more stable than most."
Azztheo pulled off the band, rubbing his temple. "So… I passed?"
She tapped a few notes into her tablet and nodded. "Preliminary results say you're well within the safe range for awakening. Your physique score is 49, your organ strength is stable, and your neural resistance is excellent. If your stats holds and remain stable until serum day, you'll be cleared."
"What now?" he asked.
"Now," she said, "we submit your results to the Academy Gene Council. You'll be called in the morning after tomorrow to begin physical prep and receive the serum. Until then, rest well. Eat enough. No overtraining—you need your cells in peak condition."
He nodded. "Thank you."
As he stepped off the analyzer and reached the door, Dr. Yela added, "Azztheo…"
He paused.
She studied him for a moment. "Whatever your past is, don't let it weigh you down. Awakening reveals who you are—not just what you can do."
He gave a small, grateful nod.
And with that, he left the room.