The sun was too damn bright for a Saturday, but Ronin didn't mind. The sky was blue, the air crisp, and his legs were pumping like well-oiled pistons as he jogged through the park trail. Birds chirped, kids laughed in the distance, and for once, life didn't feel like it was trying to punch him in the dick.
He smirked, sweat beading on his forehead. His worn-down tracksuit clung to his back like a needy ex, but he didn't care. Life was good. His lungs were burning in a good way. The kind of burn that made you feel alive.
"Ronin! Wait up, you asshole!" came a breathless voice behind him.
He glanced back and grinned. There she was, the love of his life, trailing behind like a half-dead puppy. Lyra—short dark hair matted with sweat, hoodie tied around her waist, cheeks redder than a tomato with stage fright. Still stunning though. Always.
"C'mon, Ly, one more lap!" he called out, slowing down just a little.
She flipped him off between gasps. "You said that two laps ago!"
Ronin laughed. "And you believed me. That's on you, babe."
She finally caught up beside him, jogging like she was dragging a corpse tied to each leg. "You're cheating. You've got that damn E-rank physique."
He raised a brow. "Wow. E-rank slander. In my presence?"
She gave him a glare that was more cute than intimidating. "I'm dying and you're making jokes. Typical."
Internally, Ronin shrugged. Yeah, he was E-rank. Not exactly the peak of human evolution, but still technically enhanced. Physical awakeners didn't get cool-ass spells or flashy shit. They got speed, strength, endurance—basically the bootleg Captain America starter pack. His rank meant he wasn't lifting cars or leaping buildings, but he could still bench press a dumbass who talked shit.
"Hey," he said, flashing her a grin, "I might be E-rank, but that still makes me stronger than your average accountant."
Lyra snorted. "Yeah, well, I'm E-rank magical. If the world runs out of lighters, I'll be very useful."
He laughed, almost tripping over a root. "Damn, you right. We're a power couple. Like... bottom-tier Avengers."
She smiled through her wheezing. "I'll catch up in power once we get our second awakenings. Then I'll be the strong one and you'll be my pretty little househusband."
"Oof. Bold of you to assume I can cook."
"You can boil water."
"Barely."
He chuckled again, and a silence passed between them—not uncomfortable, just comfortable enough to hear the wind rustling through the trees. This was the kind of shit people didn't appreciate until it was gone.
Ronin glanced sideways at her, that faint smile still playing on her lips even as she tried not to die from jogging. Goddamn, he loved this woman.
His mind wandered for a moment, crude thoughts giving way to a little exposition dump even he didn't mind.
Most people Awakened around eighteen. Not everyone did—some stayed regular ol' humans. But for the lucky ones? Boom—System hit you with a power-up and said "figure it out, dipshit." You either became a physical awakener like him—body enhancements, nothing fancy—or a magical awakener like Lyra, getting flashy crap like fireballs, ice spears, or weird stuff like telekinesis.
Then, a few years after the first Awakening, came the second one. Everyone who Awakened was guaranteed a second shot, and it always gave you what you didn't get the first time. No repeats. If you started physical, your second would be magical. If you started magical, you got physical next.
It was the great equalizer, supposedly.
Ronin didn't buy the hype. Sure, the second awakening balanced things out, but it didn't erase the rank you already had. You could be an S-rank magical and still get stuck with an E-rank physical on your second round—and vice versa. It was a coin toss inside a mystery box wrapped in government red tape.
He didn't care too much, though. His first awakening hadn't made him a hero, but it gave him a hell of a fitness boost and a few inches on his confidence. Good enough.
They reached the park exit, Lyra practically folding over like a lawn chair.
"I hate jogging," she groaned, hands on knees.
"Liar. You love being tortured by me."
She shot him a look. "You're lucky I like your face."
He grinned. "Wanna swing by the Awakening Centre today?"
"Right now?" she whined.
"Why not? We're already sweaty and gross. Might as well look like real degenerates when we walk in."
She groaned again but nodded. "Fine. But you're buying me lunch after."
"Deal. As long as it's not sushi again."
"Then don't suggest ramen again and we'll call it even."
--------
Downtown was a clusterfuck, as always. Noise, honking, vendors yelling about deep-fried soy-wrapped abominations. The city was alive, teeming with too many people and not enough patience.
The Awakening Centre stood smack in the middle of it all—a sleek, modern building with glowing panels, a huge digital sign overhead, and more security than a bank during a robbery. People bustled in and out of it, some excited, others terrified, most just confused.
Ronin and Lyra squeezed through the front entrance and were immediately swallowed by the crowd.
"Jesus," he muttered. "Did every jackass in the city decide to awaken today?"
They flagged down a staff member, a frazzled guy with a clipboard and way too many pens. He pointed them toward the evaluation line.
The line wrapped around a corner and straight into hell. Ronin sighed.
"Well, we're gonna die of old age before we find out what useless bullshit we're getting next."
Lyra bumped him with her hip. "Be positive."
"I'm positively pissed this line exists."
Still, they stood in it together, her leaning on his arm, him occasionally making dumb jokes about what kind of power he'd get.
"Maybe I'll finally get Fire Farts. Think about it. I could rocket-boost my way across the street."
Lyra shook her head. "You're an idiot."
"You love this idiot."
"Unfortunately."
They stood in silence again, the kind of quiet that only two people who'd been together long enough could enjoy.
Ronin looked down at her, then around at the buzzing facility—the hopefuls, the desperate, the braggarts, the cynics.
Didn't matter what came next.
He squeezed her hand.
"Whatever we get," he said, voice quieter now, more serious, "we're not doing that adventurer bullshit. We already decided. No risking our asses for coin and clout. We get ranked, then go back to our boring-ass lives and live happily ever after."
She smiled up at him. "Even if you awaken as, like, a nuclear death wizard?"
He smirked. "Then I'll heat our leftovers faster. Still not risking my spine for dungeon scraps."
She leaned on his shoulder, tired but content.
And for that one fleeting moment, standing in line under fluorescent lights, surrounded by the chaos of ambition and desperation—
Everything was perfect.