Rain lashed against the glass like claws trying to break through. In the dimly lit room, shadows danced as the storm outside raged. A single lamp flickered over a desk strewn with ancient books, diagrams of arcane symbols, and an odd metal cube etched with markings that pulsed faintly red. Raven sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the cube with a mixture of dread and fascination.
He hadn't slept. Not really. His dreams had been filled with whispers — voices that didn't speak in any language he recognized, yet he understood them perfectly. They called his name. Not Raven. The other name. The one that had burned itself into his mind when the cube had opened.
"Azael."
That word alone made his blood feel heavy.
He clenched his fists. "What the hell is happening to me?"
He'd gone back to the ruins after school the next day, but the stone altar was gone. Or at least, buried. The pit had collapsed as if it had never existed, leaving behind only scorched dirt and broken earth.
And the cube—this artifact that shouldn't exist—had followed him. No matter where he placed it, it returned to his room. He'd thrown it out the window last night in panic. It was back on his desk by morning, humming quietly, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
A knock startled him.
He shoved the cube under his bed and opened the door. His sister, Aria, stood there with arms crossed, her violet eyes narrowed.
"You've been acting weird again. Did you forget today's your evaluation?"
Raven blinked. "Evaluation?"
She sighed. "The aptitude assessment? They're checking for mental compatibility this year, not just grades. If you're found unstable, you're disqualified from the Arcane Entrance Program."
Right. That.
He nodded. "Yeah. Just… a rough night."
Her expression softened slightly. "Don't let your dreams get to you. You always overthink things."
He gave a tired smile. "I'll manage."
The academy was buzzing with activity. Students in black-and-grey uniforms shuffled between massive iron-clad buildings that looked more like fortresses than classrooms. The Arcane Aptitude Evaluation was the first step into the program that granted students access to restricted libraries, relic-handling training, and eventually, fieldwork in the ruins of the old world.
Raven entered the assessment chamber alone. A large circular room, white and sterile, with a crystal core floating at the center. It glowed faint blue, scanning him silently.
Then it flickered. Turned red.
The walls shook.
A siren blared—short, piercing. The color of the crystal deepened, cracks forming across its surface as if recoiling from something inside him.
The voice of the examiner echoed through the intercom, panicked:
"Terminate the scan! We're detecting a Class-S resonance! This isn't possible—he's not registered!"
Raven stumbled back. "Class-S…?"
A symbol suddenly burned on the back of his hand, forcing a cry from his throat. A dark mark, resembling a shattered eye, encased in thorns.
The cube had done something to him. This mark was proof.
And now the world was about to find out.