The last sliver of sun bled out over the shattered skyline of Old Hong Kong, painting the broken teeth of skyscrapers in hues of rust and dried blood. Inside the precarious fortress of the top-floor apartment, the air was thick with the smell of unwashed bodies, boiled lentils, and a desperate, clinging hope. Today was an Awakening Day.
Fang Qiong sat apart, as she always did, on a splintered wooden chair by the room's only window—a spiderweb of cracks held together by grimy tape. Her knees were drawn to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. At eighteen, she was a study in quiet contrasts. The lean lines of her body, honed by years of scarcity and constant vigilance, held a tensile strength that her delicate features belied. Through the grime caking her face, her eyes were a startling, clear gold, watching the world with the wariness of a creature that had learned visibility meant danger. Her hair, a tangled curtain, showed flashes of its original platinum white beneath the dust and ash of the fallen city.
She was an archive of loss. Her parents' laughter, her older brother's protective scowls, her sister's secret whispers—all were ghosts swallowed by the first, chaotic wave of the Apocalypse four years ago. The silence they left behind had filled her, making her words few and her presence slight. She was a shadow among the other orphaned girls in their communal room, a listener, a watcher. The world outside the trembling walls of their building was a graveyard symphony. Distant, guttural roars of mutated beasts echoed through the canyons of rubble. The nights, which now stretched for sixteen agonizing hours, belonged to the dead and the monstrous things that crawled from the fissures in the earth.
Safety was a fleeting concept, found only in the legendary mobile convoys—armored cities on tank treads, massive hover-platforms in the sky. But the sky convoys were for the powerful, the land convoys were halved and harried, and the sea convoys were myths, long since dragged into the abyss. For those left behind, like Qiong and her makeshift family, survival was a daily, grinding calculus of boarded windows and rationed water.
Her gaze was fixed on the dying light. The sun's brief, eight-hour visit was almost over. As the final amber glow faded from a jagged piece of glass on a far-off ruin, a cold, electric jolt shot up her spine. A translucent blue screen, shimmering with an otherworldly light, materialized before her eyes. Her breath hitched. The Awakening System. It came only once, on your eighteenth birthday, and it decided everything: whether you became a superhuman asset to humanity's last stands, or remained… ordinary. A burden.
[Awakening has Begun...]
The words hung in her vision. A nervous tremor started in her hands. Around her, the other girls fell silent, feeling the shift in the air, the static charge of potential. She did not move, but her eyes widen slightly.
[Calculating soul strength...]
The seconds stretched into eternity. Would she be gifted? Or would she be like so many, deemed unworthy of an Awakening, condemned to the fragility of an un-augmented life in this brutal world? Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum against the quiet.
[Congratulations, Fang Qiong!]
A surge of pure, unadulterated relief washed over her, so potent it made her dizzy. She had gotten something. She was not left empty-handed.
[You have Awakened, F-Tier Trait: Dual Heart - Allows you to have one extra Skill, Talent or Trait bound to you]
The relief curdled, freezing into a hard, heavy lump in her stomach. F-Tier. The lowest possible designation. A utility trait, not a power. It was like being given a second, empty cup when you were dying of thirst. It was a cruel joke. Dual Heart. It sounded poetic, but it meant she was a vessel with room for one real gift… that she did not possess. A bitter taste filled her mouth. She was broken, a dud awakened in a world that demanded warriors and builders. She saw the poorly concealed pity in the glances of the girls who peeked at her strained expression. She wanted to fold in on herself, to disappear into the worn fabric of her chair.
Then, the screen flickered. New text scrolled across the blue field, the letters burning with a deeper, more vibrant gold.
[You have Awakened, S-Tier Talent: Core Heart - Gain the ability to upgrade anything up to S-Rank level]
For a moment, her mind simply refused to parse the words. S-Tier. The mythic rank. The stories spoke of S-Tier Awakened who could command elements, reshape matter, whose very presence could turn the tide of a horde battle. They were the kings and queens of the sky convoys.
And then, the connection ignited in her mind with the force of a lightning strike. Dual Heart. The F-Tier trait. It had allowed for one extra… and the System had delivered two. The worthless cup was already full.
The S-Tier Talent wasn't about raw destructive power. It was about potential. Upgrade anything. A rusted knife. A crumbling wall. Herself. The scope of it was terrifying, universe-altering. She could take the dregs of this broken world and forge them into something magnificent. She could, in time, become magnificent.
A fierce, secret warmth bloomed in her chest, so intense it threatened to crack her carefully maintained placid expression. She quickly schooled her features back into a mask of subdued disappointment, letting her shoulders slump slightly for the benefit of the onlookers. Inside, a brilliant, intricate plan began to crystallize.
Her S-Tier Talent was a secret that could get her killed, coveted, or enslaved. It was a treasure she must bury deep. She would let the world see only the F-Tier. She would fabricate a lesser, plausible version of her power—a pathetic, one-time upgrade ability, limited to useless relics of the old world. A broken music box, a dulled scissors, a faded book. Let them think her talent was as small and fragile as she appeared.
Fang Qiong, the quiet orphan with the dirty white hair and golden eyes, looked out at the encroaching darkness. For the first time in four years, the night did not feel like a suffocating blanket. It felt like a cloak. And within its shadows, cradled in her dual hearts—one seemingly feeble, one impossibly potent—she held the silent, burgeoning seed of a revolution. The game had changed. She just had to make sure no one else knew the rules.
Just as she was about to make her future plans of making her own convoy, an idea struck her like a ton of bricks.
"Upgrade anything up to S-Tier" Did that mean she could upgrade her F-Tier Trait. She was overwhelmed with the idea, and so she decided to try it, she closed her eyes, and thought to use her S-Tier: Core Heart on her F-Tier: Dual Heart. She felt the system return and tell her the news.
[User of S-Tier Talent: Core Heart wishes to upgrade F-Tier Trait: Dual Heart…]
The words hung in her vision, immutable and cold. A chill that had nothing to do with the encroaching night swept through her.
[Calculating Upgrade…]
A moment of eternity passed, measured in the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat.
[Upgrade Complete, F-Tier Trait: Dual Heart has been Upgraded to E-Tier Trait: Triple Heart!]
The message pulsed with a sterile light.
[You have Awakened, B-Tier Skill: Protective Light - Allows you to shield 25 beings from being detected by Enemies.]
She had awaken a third time just after upgrading her weak trait to E-tier, this was a game changer! She had gained not only a third trait, but also a powerful skill that could help her and others survive in this dangerous world. The possibilities raced through her mind. She could use Protective Light to scavenge for resources without being detected by the mutated beasts or the enhanced dead. She could shield the other orphans, giving them a chance to rest and recover. She could even use it to infiltrate enemy territory and gather intelligence.
The implications of her new skill were staggering, but Fang Qiong knew she couldn't afford to get carried away. She still had to maintain her facade of weakness. If anyone found out about her true potential, she would become a target. She needed to be careful, strategic, and patient.
With a newfound determination, Fang Qiong closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. She allowed the exhaustion of the day to wash over her, calming her mind and centering her thoughts. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was clear and focused. She knew what she had to do. She had to learn how to control her powers, hone her skills, and prepare for the challenges that lay ahead. The road to revolution wouldn't be easy, but with her S-Tier Talent, Fang Qiong was ready to fight for a better future.
She glanced at the other orphans, their faces etched with worry and fatigue. They were her responsibility now. She would protect them, no matter the cost. And as she looked out at the encroaching darkness, she knew that the night was no longer a cloak, but a canvas. A canvas on which she would paint her own destiny.