Senpur was never quiet.
By day, there was the dust, the din, the hurried steps of the people—
and by night, the scent of cheap ale, the conspiracies whispered low, and the half-finished brawls.
But on this night,
something was different.
The wind blew, yet the leaves hung still.
The sky was clear, yet the stars seemed dim.
And the air—
it felt like it was holding its breath, waiting.
Ehan sat in his room.
It was small.
Earthen walls, a splintered table, and a thin cot tucked in the corner.
This house was not his own—
just the place he was permitted to rest.
On the wooden table before him lay a stone.
The Trial-Stone.
Every seventeen-year-old in Senpur was bound to touch it today.
Today would decide—
who would ascend,
and who would remain bound to the dust.
Ehan looked at the stone.
Then at his own palm.
His fingers were etched with old scars.
Some from chopping wood,
others from the shoves and blows of rivals.
Today will be no different, he thought.
There was no fear left.
Only exhaustion.
Before dawn, Senpur's Square was packed.
A dense crowd,
low murmurs,
and the Inspectors standing high on the dais.
One by one, the youths stepped forward.
One would touch the stone—
and the stone would emit a faint pulse of light.
Average.
Decent enough.
Usable.
With every glow, a future was sealed.
Ehan stood at the very back.
No one called his name.
No one even glanced his way.
Finally, the Inspector's voice cut through the air—
"Ehan. Approach."
A few chuckles rippled through the crowd.
That one?
Ugh, what will he produce?
He's just a...
The words didn't need to be finished.
Ehan stepped forward.
Slowly.
Quietly.
He placed his hand on the Trial-Stone.
Nothing happened.
No light.
No warmth.
No reaction.
The stone was dead.
A moment of silence.
Then, laughter.
"Null," the Inspector said, without looking down.
Null.
The word was not new to Ehan.
He bowed his head
and stepped back.
That night, he was alone.
Outside Senpur,
near the old, forbidden ruins.
The place was strictly off-limits.
But Ehan didn't care.
He sat there—
head resting on his knees.
Null, he told himself.
And then—
pain.
Sudden.
Sharp.
Like a fist clenching tight inside his chest.
Ehan crumpled.
His breath fractured.
The world spun.
And in that moment—
the world shifted.
The air grew heavy.
The sky seemed to press down.
And in Ehan's ears,
a heartbeat throbbed.
Thump.
Thump.
It was not his own.
Something stirred in his veins.
Something woke up.
A whisper—
terribly close.
"Not yet."
Ehan's eyes widened.
"W-who?"
There was no answer.
Only a certainty—
that inside him,
something had been
sleeping.
And it was waking now.