The Awakening of Eden

Eden was brought to a different room, one separate from the large examination hall where the other candidates had gathered. At first, he had been confused—why wasn't he allowed to take the test with everyone else? But after a moment's thought, the reason became obvious.

He was blind.

A written exam would be pointless if he couldn't read the questions.

The academy had quickly devised a solution: the questions would be read aloud, and Eden would provide his answers verbally. The requirement for the exam was a score of 75% or higher, if he could get that he would pass the exam and be admitted.

The room he was led into was small, quiet, and clinical. The faint hum of mana-powered machines filled the air, likely monitoring the environment or the exam process. The wooden desk before him was smooth and polished, the chair firm yet not uncomfortable. No shuffling of papers, no scratching of pens—just his own steady breathing and the presence of the proctor sitting across from him.

"Are you ready?" The instructor's voice was calm and professional. There was no hint of sympathy in it, only neutrality. It seemed the academy had no interest in coddling him, and he wouldn't rather have it any other way. If he was going to pass it needed to be because he deserved it. This was just as much a test for Eden by the instructors as it was a test for Eden upon himself.

Eden nodded. "I am."

"Then we'll begin."

At first, the questions were simple, foundational—things every child was taught from an early age.

"What is mana?"

"Mana is the fundamental energy that flows through all things. It exists naturally in the world and within living beings, serving as the source of power for Awakened individuals. While ambient mana exists freely in the air, Awakened can refine and internalize it, allowing them to strengthen their bodies and utilize martial arts."

The proctor made a note. "Next question: What happens when a mana gate breaks?"

"When a mana gate breaks, the spatial barrier separating our world from the other side collapses, allowing monsters to flood through unchecked. The severity of the breach depends on the gate's tier, with higher-tier gates releasing more powerful and numerous threats.

Another note. "How many attributes exist?"

Eden took a moment before answering. "Eight primary attributes exist: Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Lightning, Ice, Light, and Shadow.

"Correct. Now, for a more advanced question. What are the four original attributes that preceded all others?"

Eden hesitated. He had never learned this answer, and there was no way to rely on memory. He had to trust his instincts.

" Light, Shadow, Lightning, and… Fire."

Silence. Then the proctor simply moved on.

Eden exhaled slowly. He wasn't sure if he was right, but something about his answer felt natural. Fire was destruction and renewal, Lightning was raw energy, and Light and Shadow had always existed as opposing forces. If any elements formed the foundation of the world, it had to be these.

A small part of him nagged at his choices, as if some distant truth eluded his grasp. But there was no time to dwell on it now—the exam continued, and he had to stay focused.

Eden answered each question with confidence. He knew these concepts well, as they were common knowledge for anyone aiming to become an Awakened. But as the test progressed, the difficulty increased. The questions became more intricate, requiring deeper understanding and analytical thinking.

"What factors influence the evolution of a mana beast?"

Eden took a moment to think. He had read about mana beasts before, but much of their nature was still a mystery. Still, he knew enough to form an answer.

"The evolution of a mana beast is influenced by several factors," he began. "First, the density and quality of mana in their environment—beasts that dwell in areas rich in mana evolve faster and develop stronger abilities. Second, battle experience—beasts that survive constant conflict often undergo forced evolution, adapting to threats in order to survive. Third, their core stability—if a beast's mana core is too unstable or weak, it won't be able to withstand the evolution process and will die instead of evolving."

He paused before adding one last thought.

"Some rare cases also suggest that external influences, such as consuming the cores of stronger creatures or exposure to unique mana anomalies, can trigger evolution. But those cases are less understood."

The proctor simply nodded, moving on to the next question.

"What are three methods to stabilize an unstable mana gate?"

"One, reinforcement arrays to slow its collapse. Two, draining surrounding mana to balance pressure. Three, clearing the dungeon core before it breaks open."

"What is the difference between attribute affinity and attribute mastery? How can someone compensate for a lack of affinity?"

"Affinity is natural talent; mastery is skill and control. Someone with low affinity can compensate through relentless training, external aids, or focusing on precision techniques over raw power."

Eden took his time with each response. Some answers he knew from prior study, others he pieced together through logic and instinct. He felt confident—at least, confident enough to believe he was passing so far.

Time slipped away as he focused, and before he knew it, an hour had passed. Then came the final question.

"This last question is worth up to 10 points," the proctor stated. "Answer carefully."

Eden straightened.

"If you had the power to shut down all mana gates permanently, stopping the threat forever but also preventing all future Awakened from gaining power, would you do it? Explain your reasoning."

Eden stilled. This was no ordinary test question—it was a challenge of ideology. There was no clear right or wrong answer, only perspective. He considered his options, three possible answers forming in his mind.

One: Closing the gates would mean peace. No more monsters, no more wars. But without mana, humanity would be vulnerable to anything beyond their world.

Two: Leaving the gates open meant continued conflict, but also progress. Power. Evolution. Without the struggle, would they even survive in the long run?

Three: A middle path—was there a way to control the gates rather than close them? Could humanity tame the storm rather than run from it?

Eden took a deep breath, weighing the gravity of the question. His thoughts were swift but deliberate, like the shifting currents of mana that flowed through his being. He knew the answer had to be more than just a strategic choice—it was a reflection of his core beliefs.

"The power to shut down the gates permanently would be a tempting one," he began, his voice calm but unwavering. "It would bring an end to the immediate threat, stop the wars, and give humanity a chance to rebuild in peace. But to remove the mana, to cut off that source of power, would be to condemn humanity to stagnation. We would be safe, yes, but we would also be weak. And I do not believe that we are meant to live in stasis. The gates, as dangerous as they are, represent not only conflict but growth—the opportunity to adapt, to evolve."

He paused for a moment, looking at the proctor with steady eyes, as if weighing each word carefully.

"But leaving the gates open without consideration is reckless. The power that comes with them is dangerous, and we cannot simply allow it to ravage us without responsibility. We must learn to control the gates, to master the power they bring rather than succumb to it. If we do not, we risk the very future we fight to protect."

Eden's voice softened, but his resolve remained clear. "Closing the gates is not the answer. Nor is blindly allowing them to ravage our world. The middle path, the one that seeks balance—control rather than destruction—that is the only way forward. Humanity must learn to live with the gates, not be ruled by them, and in doing so, we may yet shape our future."

He met the proctor's gaze, unflinching. "That is what I believe."

The proctor was silent for a moment, as though considering the weight of Eden's words. Then, with a subtle nod, he stood and waved his hand. "That concludes the exam."

Eden exhaled slowly.

"The results will be announced within the week," the proctor continued. "You may leave."

Eden stood, allowing the instructor to guide him to the door. The moment it opened, he immediately sensed the familiar presence waiting for him.

His father.

Eden didn't need to see him to know he had been there the entire time. The faint scent of his cologne, the way his mana presence felt—steady but tightly controlled, as though he had been suppressing his nerves for the past hour.

Eden leaned back against the chair, the weight of the exam still settling in his mind. His father's gaze lingered on him, a subtle concern in his eyes. "How was it?" His father's voice was even, but Eden caught the slight tension in it, a reminder of how deeply his father cared, even if he tried not to show it.

Eden offered a faint smile. "I think I did well."

His father let out a breath that almost sounded like relief. "Good." The words were simple, but Eden could feel the quiet pride behind them, the unspoken weight of all the sacrifices.

For a moment, Eden's mind wandered back to his early days. He was thankful for the years his mother and father had spent preparing him. Their wisdom and the world they had introduced him to as Awakened had shaped him in ways that went beyond the mere technicalities of mana. His mother had always made sure he had the best possible education, despite the struggles of their small family. After her death, it was the government that ensured he didn't fall behind, covering the costs of his schooling. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been immersed in studies that went beyond the basics of survival, instilling in him a thirst for knowledge and critical thinking.

"I'm grateful for everything mother did," he muttered, his voice quieter now, the memory of her presence settling in his chest.

His father's expression softened, but there was something distant in his eyes. "She would be proud of you, Eden. You've come so far."

Eden nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for the education and opportunities that had shaped him into who he was today. "I won't let it go to waste," he promised.

Together, they walked out of the academy, the weight of the day settling behind them. As they made their way home, Eden replayed the test in his mind, his thoughts lingering on that final question.

If he had the power to close all mana gates… would he?

The answer he had given felt right. But for some reason, a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than just a hypothetical. 

For now, all he could do was wait.

And prepare for what was to come.

... 

A week passed in the blink of an eye, and the day of the announcement was finally upon him. In that short span of time, Eden had pushed himself further than ever before. His training had become more intense, more focused. What had started as seven hours of daily practice had now stretched to ten, and every moment was spent in pursuit of mastering his awakened ability and harnessing the elusive Aether. He could feel it—just on the edge of his consciousness, like a shimmering thread waiting to be pulled into his control. Every day, it felt like he was one step away from breaking through, but that final step always seemed to elude him, slipping further as he reached for it.

He followed his daily routine with the same unwavering discipline, unwilling to waste a single moment. The letter, the one that would reveal the results of his exam, had yet to arrive. But he didn't let it consume him. There was no point in waiting idly for it to come. His father, though, would surely be just as anxious as he was. Eden was certain that when the letter arrived, his father would be the first to call him down.

Sure enough, just as he was finishing his last set of breathing exercises, the familiar voice of his father echoed from downstairs. "Eden! Come down here, now!" There was a rare note of excitement in his voice, something Eden hadn't heard in a long while. It made his heart skip, anticipation building within him.

He quickly descended the stairs, his thoughts racing, a thousand possibilities flooding his mind. As he entered the living room, his father stood near the door, holding a sealed envelope with a gold insignia stamped across the front. Eden's breath caught in his throat, it was without a doubt the letter from the academy.

Eden's father handed him the sealed envelope with an unspoken urgency in his voice. "Here it is," he said, his tone both excited and anxious. "The results."

Eden took the letter from his father, unable to read it himself. His hands lingered on the smooth surface, but he didn't need to see it to know what it meant. The weight of the moment hung in the air, thick with anticipation. He handed it back to his father and his father began to read the letter aloud, his voice steady, but there was an edge of disbelief, like he was still processing the weight of what he was about to say.

"Congratulations, Eden de Sylvain. You have been accepted into the Awakened Academy…"

Eden's heart pounded, but the rest of the words became a blur. He didn't hear much of what his father said next—except for one line that cut through everything. It was as though the words had been written just for him, as if they had been waiting for this very moment.

"Instead of trying to force control upon our destinies, we must learn to mold them, work with them in order to reach our dreams."

The phrase echoed in his mind, and everything around him seemed to fall away. The noise in the room, his father's voice, even the beating of his own heart—all of it faded into the background. Something inside his brain clicked. The disjointed pieces that had been tumbling in his mind for months suddenly aligned.

Aether. He had been trying so hard to control it, to force it to obey him. But that wasn't the way it worked. Aether wasn't like the other elements. He had been thinking of it like an enemy to conquer, something to dominate. But what if, instead of trying to control it, he needed to work with it? To understand it, to find harmony.

Eden's breath caught in his chest. It was so simple, so obvious, yet it had eluded him all this time. He didn't need to force Aether into submission. He needed to reach out to it, to extend himself and find a way to become its equal, to work alongside it.

His hands trembled as he stretched out his will. This time, he didn't try to dominate it. Instead, he simply reached out, extending his mind into the currents of Aether, seeking connection.

His father's voice was a distant murmur, filled with concern. "Eden? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

But Eden couldn't hear him anymore. The only thing that mattered now was the connection he was forging. His focus was absolute. Aether was there, swirling just beyond his reach, waiting for him to let go of the old, rigid way of thinking. He stopped trying to bend it to his will, and instead, he simply became still. He let Aether come to him, let it move with him, not against him.

And then, for the first time, Aether responded.

It moved toward him and began entering his body making its way toward his mana pool.

A surge of power, like a current of electricity, coursed through him. It wasn't the chaotic, untamable force he had struggled with before—it was different now. It was a fluid, harmonious energy that moved in time with his thoughts. It was as if he and Aether had finally become one.

The world around him brightened, and Eden, lost in the moment, allowed himself to be swept away by the connection. The energy in the air thrummed with life, as though Aether itself had accepted him.

His father's voice pierced the trance, but Eden didn't answer. He couldn't. His mind was completely focused, no longer trying to control Aether but to work with it. He wasn't simply reaching out now—he was merging with it, letting it flow through him. In that moment, something in his body shifted. The energy he had once tried to manipulate now moved with him, as if it had always been a part of him.

But it wasn't just Aether. As he focused, he felt another current beneath it—familiar, lightning-fast, sparking with raw power. The two energies—Aether and Lightning—began to move together, circulating through him in an intricate dance, intertwining and flowing as though they had always been meant to coexist.

His body began to adapt, attuning itself to the two elements. It was like something had clicked into place, and for the first time, Eden felt a powerful synergy. His breathing became steady, almost instinctual, as he allowed the energies to circulate through him, each current feeding into the other. Aether, Lightning—they weren't separate anymore. They were part of him, shaping him.

But the intensity of it all, the sheer magnitude of the power coursing through him—was too much to contain. Without meaning to, he unleashed a burst of energy. A shockwave of raw force erupted from his body, knocking his father backward, sending him sprawling across the room. The papers on the table flew in all directions, scattering like leaves in a storm. The air vibrated with a strange hum, and the floor cracked beneath Eden's feet, a small fissure forming from the sudden explosion of power.

Eden stood there, breathless, his body still humming with the aftermath of the release. His mind felt sharp, more alive than ever, and yet he couldn't tear his focus away from the crack in the floor, the storm of energy still crackling in the air around him.

His father was on the ground, looking stunned, but Eden couldn't see him. The sound of papers scattering and the crack in the floor was all he could sense in the aftermath. His heart raced as he realized what had just happened—he had lost control, and the explosion of power had sent his father flying. Panic gripped him, and for a moment, everything else faded.

"Father!" Eden shouted, his voice sharp with worry and fear. His pulse hammered in his ears, and he took a step forward, instinctively reaching out to find his father. His mind raced—was he okay? What had he done?

Eden could feel the lingering power in the air, the stillness around him as his body hummed with newfound energy. This was no small moment. It was a shift, a turning point. The magnitude of what had just happened was starting to sink in. But none of that mattered now. His father was on the ground, and Eden needed to make sure he was all right.