It was Year 118 of the Cataclysm Era, and the heat in the Base 6 Awakening Plaza was the kind of miserable that stuck your shirt to your back and made your head spin. Thousands of us—every eighteen-year-old in the sector—were packed in like sardines under a sun that felt like it was trying to cook us alive on the asphalt.
"Hey, Shane... you doing okay? You look like you're about to pass out."
I blinked, shaking off the heat haze, and looked over at Chloe West. She was wearing this bright red sundress that made her stand out like a firecracker against the dusty grey of the plaza. She'd outgrown that awkward kid phase fast; she had this energy about her, like she was already halfway to being a hero. But right now, her eyes were wide and her lower lip was doing that little tremble thing.
"I'm fine," I said, though my voice sounded like I'd been eating gravel. I swallowed hard, my Adam's apple bobbing. "Just a little keyed up, I guess."
Truth was, I was vibrating. This wasn't just some graduation ceremony; this was the moment that decided if I'd be spending my life in the trenches or living in a penthouse in the Central District. I went back to staring at the massive white screen at the front of the plaza. I didn't want to talk. If I talked, I might actually admit how terrified I was.
Chloe pouted a little—probably because I was being a brick wall—but she didn't push it. She turned her focus back to the stage, her own hands clenched into fists.
Time dragged. Every minute felt like an hour. Finally, right as the sun hit its peak at noon, a guy just... appeared. One second the air was empty, the next, the Commander of Base 6 was hovering thirty feet up in the air, looking down at us like a tired god. The crowd went absolutely ballistic.
Nobody thought it was weird that he was flying. We'd all grown up on stories of what the high-rankers could do. Seeing it in person, though? It made my heart do a frantic little dance against my ribs. I wanted that. I wanted to be the guy who didn't have to walk on the dirt.
The Commander didn't need a mic. His voice just kind of existed in everyone's head at once.
"Alright, kids. It's that time again," he started. His voice was gravelly, like he'd rather be anywhere else. "A hundred and eighteen years ago, the world went to hell. Earth expanded, Mana—or 'Original Energy'—blew up, and suddenly we weren't at the top of the food chain anymore. Monsters, 'Disasters,' whatever you want to call 'em—they wiped us out by the millions. Our ancestors only survived because they held the line with old-school rifles and grit until we figured out how to use the Star Origin."
He paused, his eyes sweeping over the sea of nervous teenagers.
"Now it's your turn. We need more boots on the ground. We need fighters. I'm hoping to see some real talent today, because the walls aren't getting any stronger on their own. One last thing: whatever happens behind that screen, don't just give up. The world's a mess, and it belongs to you now. Let's get to it."
The white screen suddenly bled into a violent, glowing red. It was hypnotic, like staring into a sunset that wanted to eat you.
"Central District, move out!" the monitors yelled.
I watched the kids from the rich part of town march forward. They looked different—cleaner, better fed, like they'd been eating mana-supplements since they were in diapers. We watched them go in first because, well, that's how the world works. Rank has its privileges.
Chloe and I were from the North District. The 'wrong side of the tracks' didn't even cover it. I looked at the red light and squeezed my eyes shut for a second. Please, let it be a combat class. Anything that can swing a sword.
I thought about my sister, Sierra, back at the apartment. Since our parents went missing eight years ago during a breach, it'd just been the two of us. I'd spent every day since I was ten years old training until my muscles screamed, all for this one minute. I needed to be a Warrior. I needed to be a Mage. I needed to be someone who could actually do something.
"District North, Section A! Move!"
The crowd surged. I didn't even get to walk; I was basically carried by the wave of sweating bodies. Before I could even take a breath, I was pushed through the red veil.
Inside, the world went silent. It felt like a seed was popping open in the back of my brain. It was warm, then tingly, then sharp. I remembered what my teachers said: Don't panic. Just feel it.
But then, before I could even get a handle on the sensation, the world shoved me back out. I stumbled out of the light so fast I almost face-planted on the concrete. My heart went cold. The school drills were clear about one thing: the faster you get kicked out of the Awakening, the lower your combat potential.
I was shaking as I looked down at my hand. A black card had appeared out of nowhere—my Star Origin ID. This was it. My whole life, summarized on a piece of plastic.
I pressed the card to my forehead to sync the info. A blue holographic window popped up in my vision, and my stomach dropped through the floor.
Name: Shane Miller
ID: 118120431-9527
Class: Farmer
Skill: Growth Boost (Spend Mana to speed up crops by 10%. Duration: 10 hrs. Cooldown: 24 hrs.)
Stats: Strength 10, Agility 10, Physique 10, Spirit 10 (Max Basic)
Talent: Summon Skeleton (Summon a skeleton with all attributes at 1. Cooldown: 24 hrs.)
I stared at the word Farmer until my eyes burned.
A Farmer? Are you kidding me? Even a Blacksmith can eventually craft a magic sword or build a tank. A Farmer just... grows corn. In a world where monsters are trying to bash down your front door, I was the guy with a watering can.
And the talent? A skeleton with a '1' in every stat? A toddler could probably take that thing out. I'd never even heard of a summoning talent for a Farmer, probably because it was completely useless.
The heat of the sun hit me again, but I felt like I was standing in a walk-in freezer. All those years of training, being the top of my class in every physical drill, and for what? To have the best-conditioned hamstrings in the cabbage patch?
I felt like I was moving in slow motion as I walked over to the registrar's desk. The guy behind the counter didn't even look up from his tablet.
"Class?" he asked, sounding bored out of his mind.
"Farmer," I muttered.
He paused for a fraction of a second, his eyes flicking up to see my maxed-out physical stats, then back down to the 'Farmer' label. He gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head. He didn't say it, but I saw it in his eyes: What a waste of good potential.
"Go wait in the Auxiliary pen," he said, gesturing toward a massive, depressed-looking crowd of kids.
I walked over there like a zombie. I didn't care about the noise, the heat, or the people. I just kept thinking about Sierra. How was I supposed to tell her I was a Farmer? How was I supposed to protect her with a skeleton that had the strength of a wet paper towel?
I lay on the bed that night, the apartment feeling smaller and quieter than usual. I placed the black card on my forehead and closed my eyes.
Alright, I thought. Let's see this 'Star Origin World' everyone talks about.
With a slight thought, my consciousness automatically entered the Star Origin World through the black card.