"Arin Vale! Wake up, or I swear I'll pour water down your pants."
The voice, sharp and half amused, pierced through the mental fog clinging to Arin's thoughts. He blinked rapidly, as if the very act might push back the twin delusions merging in his mind. His vision split, worlds colliding—flashes of broken cities, mana storms raging, and an ocean of screaming dying stars, all overlaid on the mundane, humming classroom around him.
He looked up.
Towering over his desk was Rei Thorne—his amber eyes, warm and restless, danced with mischief.
"You seriously spaced again?" Rei asked, tapping the desk with a mana-dipped pencil. "Don't tell me you were dreaming about history class. Or were you trying to escape Awakening Day by entering a coma?"
Next to him stood Kaela Myrin, ever the contrast. She was calm and poised, her uniform perfectly arranged, and her long green hair tied into a single, neat braid that fell between her shoulder blades. She was flipping through an old physical book—one of the few still in print—titled Guardian Tactics: Aegis-Class Protocols. Her eyes met Arin's with mild concern.
"You okay?" she asked. "You look like you dreamed an entire war."
"I… maybe I did," Arin mumbled, blinking again. He glanced around. Students buzzed with a nervous kind of anticipation. Desks clicked shut, murmurs of speculation filled the air, and every other person in the room looked as if they'd downed a shot of raw mana just to contain themselves.
It was Awakening Day.
Three years in the making, and now, at seventeen, Arin was about to discover whether he would be hailed as a prodigy—or tossed aside as one of the 'Useless.' The term referred to those whose mana signatures were so weak or unstable that no elemental affinity or specialised class awakened within them. It was a polite term. The actual word students used was 'trash.'
But Arin's thoughts were elsewhere.
He remembered a different Earth—an older one. Cities free of floating towers and crystal spires. Air untainted by mana storms. Forests that didn't whisper in ancient tongues. He knew military ranks from other timelines, ancient tactics for wars never fought, and even the name of a beast that hadn't existed in this world but which haunted his dreams: Aethronis, the Pulse-Eater.
Was this transmigration?
The realisation had settled in slowly over the last few days. Arin's body was not new. His family records matched. His childhood memories remained. But buried beneath all of it were sharp, crystalline fragments of another existence—one that guided him like a second mind.
"Don't worry," Rei said, clapping him on the back. "Even if you awaken as a Trash-Tier Farmer, we'll still let you carry our bags."
"Gee, thanks," Arin muttered.
The heavy doors at the front of the classroom hissed open. Master Helros entered, black robes swirling with every step. The old man's obsidian staff echoed with weight as he walked, its tip glowing faintly with ancient sigils. Half his face bore scars, one eye a glowing silver, the other long since closed.
"Attention," he barked. "Time to proceed to the Hall of Wills. Lineup. Silent formation. This is a sacred rite."
Students straightened, breath held tight.
They exited the lecture dome, descending down floating walkways surrounded by streaming banners of light. The city of Ark—short for Ark—stretched beneath them. A city born from hope and desperation, it was one of thirteen Ley Cities still holding against the chaos of the outer Wild Dominions.
The Hall of Wills came into view.
It was not built. It had grown—a massive lotus of will-crystal suspended in air, born from Earth's Will itself. Its petals shifted in hue with every moment, shimmering with auroras and the pulse of Earth's ancient consciousness. It floated directly over the Will Core, the city's spiritual and defensive heart.
Crowds had gathered outside, families, younger students, observers, reporters. A silent tension danced in the air. All waited for miracles—or tragedies.
As Arin's class approached the entrance, voices rose.
"Isn't that the Frost Family's heir?"
"Yeah, Sean Frost. Guaranteed S-Class at minimum."
Arin turned, already knowing.
Sean Frost was a vision of noble arrogance. Ice-white hair perfectly groomed, violet eyes glowing faintly with mana suppression, his uniform a custom variant stitched with House Frost's sigils. He moved with the confidence of someone who had never known fear.
He stopped directly in front of Arin, looking him up and down with a smirk.
"You," he said, loudly. "Still here? Thought the trash would've taken itself out by now."
Arin's silence was calm. Calculated.
Rei stepped between them. "Move along, junior popsicle."
Sean didn't blink. "Let's make it fun. If this useless embarrassment awakens anything above F-Rank, I'll eat my sword. Anyone want to bet?"
His entourage chuckled. A few onlookers laughed.
Kaela muttered, "Ignore him. He thrives on drama."
"Enough," Master Helros growled. "Inside. One by one."
Inside, the Hall glowed brighter than the sun. The Will Crystal stood in the centre, branching like veins toward smaller pedestals. Its presence hummed in their bones, vibrating with memory, with judgement.
Each student stepped forward. They placed their palm on the awakening pedestal. The Will reached into them, read their nature, their soul—and responded.
First was Mara Thesk. "E-Rank Wind Sprinter!" A burst of silver air around her.
Next, Juno Dalen. "D-Rank Flame Dancer!" A wreath of fire burst from her shoulders.
Then came Rei.
His body shone like sunlight trapped in crystal. Holy sigils danced on his skin.
"S-Rank Light Knight!"
Cheers rang. A glowing longsword formed in his hand, pure and noble.
Rei turned to Arin, grinning. "Beat that, useless."
Then came Kaela. She stepped up, eyes closed, one hand on her braid.
The Will Crystal dimmed.
Then exploded in golden brilliance.
"SS-Rank Guardian Shield!" The echo boomed through the hall.
A golden barrier taller than a man shimmered into form beside her. Her eyes opened, calm as ever.
Then came the one many had waited for—Lira Vael.
She was... different. Graceful. Reserved. Always alone.
Arin watched her step forward, her eyes distant. Her aura was too vast for a mere student. And though none knew it officially, whispers surrounded her.
She was the only known descendant of one of the original Thirteen Guardians.
She pressed her hand against the crystal.
The world went silent.
Then, black and violet mist swirled around her body. Her outline blurred, her presence flickered.
"SSS-Rank Void Assassin!" came the whisper, but the voice wasn't the hall's system.
It came from the Will Crystal itself.
She stepped back silently. No smile. No thanks. Just a quiet nod to the watching crowd.
Arin swallowed hard. He barely noticed the next few awakenings.
And then—
"Arin Vale."
His feet moved.
He stepped to the pedestal.
He placed his hand.
Nothing.
The crystal stayed dim.
The crowd started murmuring.
Then—
A quiet glow. Purple. Deep. Thoughtful.
[A-Rank Class: Master Encyclo ---Subtype: Mind Vault]
No burst of flame. No divine sword.
Just words.
Someone snorted. "What the hell is that? A walking book?"
"Trash-rank with a new name."
"Maybe he can memorise our test answers."
Even Sean scoffed. "Guess I keep my sword after all."
Arin stood silently.
And then—he smiled.
Because in his mind, a voice whispered:
Welcome, Host. Initiation successful.
System unlocked: Total Recall | Simulation Archive Access granted | Memory Thread Binding activated.
Rei and Kaela rushed to his side, confusion in their eyes.
"You good?" Rei asked.
Arin blinked. "Never better."
Behind him, the Will Crystal pulsed.
And somewhere in the deep Earth, something stirred.