Chapter 1 Null
The sound of bones breaking isn't as loud as people think.
More like a dry twig crushed under a boot — short, sharp, then drowned in screaming. The girl — Mira, fourteen, thin like someone who'd long forgotten what it felt like to be full — was dragged two meters across the asphalt before the carriage stopped. The horses snorted in disgust, as if even animals knew who was allowed to be trampled in this city.
A man stepped down from the carriage. Dark blue robe, silver eagle crest on his chest-Awakener Grade-B. His eyes swept over Mira's body curled on the ground, stopping at her left wrist. A tattoo of zero. Null.
The man reached into his pocket and tossed a single silver coin near Mira's head.
"Compensation. Count yourself lucky."
The carriage moved on. People on the sidewalk stepped past Mira like she was a puddle to be avoided. Not a single one stopped.
Except for one hand.
"Take my hand. Don't look at your leg."
Ren Ashford, seventeen, lifted Mira's body with a gentleness that shouldn't belong to someone already used to seeing this. He carried her to the Null clinic - a cramped room that looked more like a storage shed than a place for treatment-and paid the full cost. This month's entire wage. Not a single coin left.
On his way out, Ren stared at the zero tattooed on his own wrist.
Tomorrow was his final Awakening Ceremony.
Last chance.
The small house at the edge of the Null District smelled of medicine and rotting wood. Ren pushed open a door with crooked hinges and found his grandfather, Gareth Ashford, sitting in a wheelchair by the window. On his lap was a cloth smeared with red.
"You've been coughing blood again, Gramps."
Gareth tucked the cloth under the blanket. "That's tomato sauce."
"We don't have tomato sauce, Gramps."
"...then it is blood."
Ren sighed, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. He pulled up a chair, sat beside Gareth, and started wiping the red stains off the floor without being asked. A ritual that had happened far too many times.
"Tomorrow, whatever happens, whatever that screen shows you-don't believe it." His voice was low, barely a whisper. "You are not what that machine says you are. You hear me?"
Ren didn't understand. But there was something in Gareth's voice that night — not the worry of an old grandfather. This was the fear of someone who knew something.
"I promise, Gramps."
Gareth smiled. A smile far too sad for the word 'relief.'
The Awakening Academy Hall could hold a thousand people, and today it was packed. Five hundred students lined up waiting for their turn. On the upper balconies, nobles watched like it was a show -because that's exactly what this was to them. Entertainment.
The Crystal Orb stood at the center of the stage, glowing a soft blue.
One by one, students stepped forward. Each time the Orb flared bright, the hall erupted in applause. Grade-A, Grade-B, the occasional Grade-S that drew roaring cheers.
Then Dorian Hart walked up.
The Crystal Orb exploded in golden light. The holographic screen blazed:
\[Grade: SS-Class: Sword Saint -Potential: 99.97%\]
The hall erupted. Nobles rose to their feet. Professors clapped. Somewhere in the crowd, Ren saw Sera--Sera Valen, the girl who for two years had always sat beside him, whose hand he'd once held in the rain — staring at Dorian with eyes she had never once given Ren. Eyes full of awe.
"Next candidate — Ren Ashford."
Ren's steps felt heavy. His hand touched the Crystal Orb. The thing glowed dim — barely visible — then went dark. Completely dead. As if the Orb itself refused to acknowledge his existence.
The holographic screen flickered:
\[Grade: NULL — Class: NONE — Potential: 0.00%\]
Silence.
One second. Two seconds. Then someone in the back row laughed. The laughter spread like a plague — quiet, then loud, then deafening. Five hundred students. A thousand spectators. All of them laughing at one person.
Professor Aldric cleared his throat at the podium. "Ren Ashford, with this result, you are officially expelled from the Awakener Academy program. Please leave the stage."
Ren stepped down. His legs moved but his mind was dead. In the sea of mocking faces, he searched for one — just one — that might still see him as human.
Sera turned away.
He found her in the back corridor.
Sera wasn't alone. Her back was pressed against the wall, Dorian Hart's lips still on hers when Ren turned the corner. They didn't stop. Sera only opened her eyes — looked at Ren over Dorian's shoulder — and slowly pushed the man back.
No surprise on her face. No guilt.
"Ren, don't look at me like that." Her voice was flat, like reading off a report. "I've been with Dorian for three months now. I was just waiting for today to make sure."
"Make sure of what?"
"That you really are worthless."
Dorian wrapped his arm around Sera's waist, grinning. "Don't blame her, Null. She just chose a future."
The house was dark.
Ren knew something was wrong before he opened the door. The hinges that always creaked silent. The door was unlocked. Gareth never left the door unlocked.
Inside, his grandfather's wheelchair was overturned. Bloodstains — red streaks dragged across the floor toward the back door that hung open into darkness. On the table, a letter. Gareth's handwriting — shaking, rushed, some words unreadable:
"Ren, forgive me. Someone came looking for something I've been hiding for years. Don't look for me. Don't trust the Sentinel Corps. And Ren — your power is not zero. You are—"
The letter was torn. The bottom half had been ripped away by force, leaving a jagged wound in the paper. On the floor, right beside the pool of blood, someone had carved a symbol with a knife's edge — a perfect black circle with emptiness at its center.
The Void symbol.
Ren dropped to his knees. They touched his grandfather's blood. His chest tightened — not from tears, but from something inside him that moved. Like something that had been sleeping for a very long time had finally opened its eyes.
Then the voice came. Not from outside. From within.
\[Finally. You're alone. Good. Now we can begin.\]
Ren's left eye flickered. His iris for a split second turned deep purple, like a night sky stripped of stars.
Then it went back to normal.
But nothing was normal anymore after tonight.