The auditorium of Saint Helios High School was unusually lively that morning. Banners fluttered from the tall windows, colorful threads of red and gold dancing in the early sunlight. Students were packed inside, the soft hum of anticipation buzzing louder than the school's old sound system could ever dream of. Today wasn't just any day—it was Awakening Day. The ceremony that happened only once in every student's life. The moment when each individual would touch the Soul Globe and awaken their true nature.
Hundreds of students filled the seats, most dressed in the crisp ceremonial uniform—white coats with dark silver buttons for the boys, and long, flowing coats with navy trims for the girls. Though the clothes made everyone appear dignified and formal, there was nothing calm about the air inside. Whispers and gasps carried from every row. Laughter, nervous pacing, quiet prayers, and deep breathing exercises—all were signs of minds teetering between fear and excitement.
The Soul Globe sat in the center of the circular stage, elevated under a spotlight that made it shimmer with an otherworldly hue. It was said to be crafted from the crystalized tears of an ancient god, forged by soul priests who could walk between the material and ethereal worlds. A translucent orb the size of a man's head, pulsing slowly with colorless energy—empty, but waiting. The moment someone placed their hand on it, their soul would resonate with the crystal, and from that connection, their Soul Nature would be revealed.
The principal stood beside it, an old man dressed in layered robes, eyes hidden behind small circular glasses. His voice cracked with age, but the authority it carried silenced the crowd instantly. "Today, each of you shall face the truth of your soul. Be proud, no matter the result. Every soul nature holds potential. What you do with it—that is your story."
The students began forming a line. Some practically bounced on their heels, confident they'd awaken a powerful elemental soul, maybe even one with direct links to a god. Others kept their heads low, praying they wouldn't awaken something weak or shameful. But regardless of what they felt, no one doubted that they would awaken something. It had never happened otherwise.
In this world, the soul wasn't a philosophical concept or a religious belief—it was tangible, measurable, and powerful. Every person was born with a unique soul nature embedded within them. It could be an elemental affinity like Fire, Water, Lightning, or Wind. It could manifest as a connection to a creature—Panther Soul, Phoenix Soul, Serpent Soul. Others awakened more abstract or conceptual soul natures—things like "Judge," "Shadow Keeper," or even "Hunger."
Once their soul nature was awakened, they would begin the second phase: Soul Cultivation. Through meditation, training, battle, and trials, they would strengthen their soul, expanding its influence and evolving its capabilities. In time, they would connect with a spiritual weapon—an ethereal extension of their nature that became their primary tool in both battle and ceremony. Swords, scythes, staffs, bows—each weapon was unique, shaped by the essence of the user's awakened soul.
Then came the third stage: Divine Quests. If a god noticed their progress, they might receive a sacred quest—a divine mission to prove their worth. Completing the quest would forge a Pact, binding them in contract with that god. Once a pact was made, their growth would be amplified, and they would be granted divine blessings. Some individuals received multiple quests from multiple gods, while others only needed to show enough raw potential to attract divine attention without any formal challenge.
There were always exceptions, though. Individuals whose soul nature was so profound, so unprecedented, that gods bypassed all formality and offered a pact immediately. These souls, rare and feared, often reshaped history. They were the monarchs of the cultivation world, standing above mortals like blazing suns among stars.
To measure the strength of a soul nature, ranks were used. The standard classification ran from:
Low Rank – Simple and weak. These might include minor elemental fragments or small spirit types. Still useful if cultivated deeply.
Upper Rank – More refined and versatile, with broader application and stronger growth potential.
Lord Rank – Noble in form, granting abilities that could change the tide of small battles.
King Rank – The bearer becomes a central force in their generation, capable of forming lesser contracts with spirits or war constructs.
Sovereign Rank – Souls that command fear and respect. These are the types of individuals entire cities or armies are built around.
Emperor Rank – A nearly mythical level. These souls are said to have inherent control over entire domains, able to manipulate reality through their soul's will.
Void Rank – The rarest of all. No one knew what these souls truly were. Some said they were fragments of forgotten gods. Others whispered that Void-ranked souls weren't born, but sent into this world for a purpose beyond mortal understanding.
But in the end, regardless of rank or type, it all began with this moment—hand touching globe.
One by one, students stepped forward. Some erupted in brilliant flashes of fire or lightning, the globe projecting their soul's vision in the air for all to see. Murmurs filled the hall. "Upper Rank—Storm Caller!" "King Rank—Shadow Wolf!" "Lord Rank—Crystal Sage!"
Cheers erupted for the high ranks. Whispers followed the low ones. But no one mocked openly. Not here. Not yet.
Everyone waited for their turn.
Everyone believed in the promise: You will awaken. You are meant to awaken.
.
.
.
I am Arjun Das.
No… I was Yammato Kurose. That was my name in the previous world, a life I lived as a loser from start to end. A man forgotten by everyone, even himself. My memories from that world aren't completely gone, but they feel distant now—like a bad dream I'm still waking up from. I was someone who never stood out, someone who watched others live great lives while I stumbled through mediocrity. A failure. A background character in his own life.
But things are different now.
This world—this new place I've come to—has given me a second chance. I don't know why or how, but I woke up here three weeks ago, in the body of a teenager named Arjun Das. It was sudden, jarring, but… also exhilarating. For the first time in my life, I can change things. I can become someone.
Still, there's one problem.
I'm an extra.
That realization hit me harder than anything else. Because the world I woke up in isn't just any world—it's the world of a novel I once read. "Black Paradox." A dark, violent, and deeply psychological urban fantasy story where strength is earned through pain, evolution, and sacrifice. I remember reading five arcs of it before I dropped it. Not because it was bad, but because it felt too intense at the time. Now I regret not reading more, but at least I know enough to get by.
I remember the key arcs. I remember the system. That gives me hope.
Because in this world, anyone can become powerful.
Here, everything is based on one thing—your soul awakening. And once you awaken your soul's nature, you begin your journey. That's what the world revolves around. Effort matters here. The weak can rise. The strong can fall. And I—no, we—have that chance too. Even an extra like me can climb.
Right now, I'm sitting with the seven main characters of "Black Paradox." The real protagonists. The story calls them the "Seven Paradox Children." All orphans. All childhood friends. The story starts with their tragedy—their awakening. But the ironic twist? They don't awaken today. Everyone else will. All the regular students will touch the globe and see their souls shine. But these seven? Nothing happens for them. Not yet. Their true awakening comes with suffering, with a price only they pay.
But what's strange is that I'm here too.
I wasn't supposed to be.
I don't remember seeing a name like Arjun Das anywhere in the novel. Not in the early chapters. Not in the side stories. Not even in the fan wikis I glanced at long ago. My presence here doesn't fit. I shouldn't be sitting with them. I shouldn't be joking with them. I shouldn't even know them.
Yet here I am.
Why?
Why was I not with them in the first arc if I'm here now? Why was I never mentioned? What happened to me?
Did I die before the story began?
Was I erased?
Or maybe... maybe this world has changed. Maybe my arrival shifted something. A small ripple that's growing into a wave. I can't say for sure.
But I know this:
Even if I'm an extra—right now, I'm here.
And I don't intend to be forgotten again.