Coming from a family of high nobility, he had received the strictest education from an early age. To acquire the necessary skills to become a great man in the future, he put in tremendous effort and time, so much so that he developed a complete aversion to those who complained without making the slightest effort—people who believed social status alone was enough to succeed in life.
Those lacking talent were not spared either, as he considered them individuals who would never contribute anything meaningful to the world. For him, one absolutely had to possess something unique, something that made them special.
That said, his disdain for the majority of the nobility earned him much criticism, to the point where his family took a drastic measure and sent him somewhere he could vent his hatred without tarnishing their name.
Thus, Walter, the third son of the Black family, unwillingly joined the Sanctuary. Yet, he refused to let it get to him. His arrival caused some commotion, but it didn't bother him. After all, he wasn't just a noble—he was special.
He was thrilled to find a place where only hard work mattered, and thanks to his skills, he was quickly promoted to lieutenant.
He thought he had found happiness but was assigned to the same team as a youngster lacking any drive or ambition.
Disappointed in the Sanctuary, thinking it accepted people through nepotism, he decided to teach this slacker—who dared hold the same rank as him—a lesson. The useless ones would follow.
Walter challenged him to a duel, but to his great surprise, the so-called incompetent teammate proved to be quite skilled, giving him a hard time. The match had to be stopped as neither could continue fighting.
After this tie, Walter came to appreciate his teammate's talents, even though his nonchalant attitude continued to infuriate him.
They completed missions together, rose in rank together, but Walter never stopped working and perfecting his craft, aiming to become one of the greatest figures in the history of the Sanctuary.
————//———//———//———//————
His grandmother's words struck Nick like a dagger to the heart. He hadn't just lost a twin sister he didn't know about; he also felt utterly foolish for having lashed out at her.
She had only tried to shield him from an unbearable truth. His body crumpled before her, his legs giving way under the weight of the revelation.
In a broken whisper, he begged for her forgiveness, his voice trembling with emotion.
His grandmother offered a gentle, almost soothing smile before helping him up with unexpected tenderness.
"There's nothing to forgive, my boy. It's already forgotten," she said in a voice imbued with warmth, like a glimmer of hope in the darkness.
He stood, ashamed, shoulders slumped, and returned to his seat, naively hoping the evening's revelations were over.
But it was only the beginning. No sooner had he sat down than she continued:
"This isn't over yet, my boy. I suppose you'd like to know more about this strange ability, wouldn't you?"
It was clearly a rhetorical question, as she pressed on immediately. "Well, no one, not even I, can tell you much about it."
She said this with obvious excitement. Nick received the news with dismay. If she, of all people, couldn't help, who could? Anticipating the question forming on his lips, she continued:
"However, what I *can* tell you is that this ability grants the awakened a unique aptitude. That's precisely why I can't help you with it. You'll have to discover it on your own. Moreover, the awakened also receive a significant increase in their Ora flow, as well as better control over it. The awakening of this ability releases the latent Ora flow within the individual."
Nick interrupted her by jumping to his feet again, this time with surprise and confusion etched on his face. He murmured, "If awakening is supposed to increase Ora flow, and against all odds I've awakened, why is my flow so weak?"
His grandmother seemed not to hear him, as she didn't respond.
"Well," she said, "I suppose I should spare you more revelations tonight. We'll talk no more of this. The last thing I must tell you—and this is truly important—is to prepare yourself for training."
Lost in thought, Nick didn't immediately grasp what she said. He nodded slowly, then suddenly turned and asked, bewildered:
"Training? Training for what?"
His grandmother, wearing her mischievous smile, replied:
"Normally, awakening occurs in adulthood, when the body is strong enough to withstand the consequences—and believe me, I know what I'm talking about—and the mind is mature enough not to succumb to madness and insanity. You've awakened far too early, which explains the ailments troubling you now. I can't tell you exactly where the hallucinations you described come from, but I can assure you they're directly linked to your awakening," she explained after a brief pause.
She fell silent and looked into Nick's eyes, as if probing his thoughts to gauge the impact of her words on him.
"Your mind, not yet ready to contain the power of your ability, naturally plays tricks on you. This can become dangerous, as with your hallucinations. Physical preparation is, of course, necessary to forge a body perfectly aligned with your aptitude."
Nick's face displayed both understanding and complete bewilderment. Anticipating yet another question burning on his lips, she continued:
"Normally, this process occurs after knowing your aptitude, as some don't require an impenetrable mind or a sculpted body. Do you see where I'm going?"
He nodded.
"Perfect," she said. "You should be ready. We have no time to waste; your training will begin as soon as possible."
"Can I at least know how, where, and with whom this will happen?"
"You'll find out soon enough, my boy."
With those words, his grandmother rose and, with her slow yet assured pace, headed to her ground-floor bedroom. Nick, recalling a subject he wanted to know more about, called out one last time:
"I'd like to know more about what happened to you, Grandmother."
There was a seriousness mixed with unshakable calm in his voice that stopped her in her tracks. Without turning around, she replied:
"There are things that should only be known in due time. All the answers to your questions will soon become clear. Good night, my boy, and good luck for what's to come."
---
Back in his room, he turned the situation over and over in his mind without arriving at any reasonable explanation.
This story of awakening, special aptitude, and training seemed completely insane. Under normal circumstances, he would have thought her mad if she had announced this to him out of the blue.
But considering his situation and state, he could only understand and assume there was some truth to it. "But still!!" he repeated to himself.
Setting aside his grandmother's past, he decided to focus on his own problems. Still brooding over what she had told him, he soon fell asleep.
He woke up the next morning calmer than ever. He had slept surprisingly well. He decided it was time to return to school.
His sister ignored him entirely when they crossed paths in the hallway. He suddenly remembered it had been a long time—three or four days—since he had seen either Dante or Maddie.
Ah, Maddie!! At the thought of her exquisite figure, her slender silhouette, and her elegant beauty, his face turned red.
He hadn't noticed it before, but it was truly unbearable not being able to talk to her for so long. That gave him even more reason to head to school.
Without explaining why, he felt the incomplete explanations given by his grandmother had significantly relieved him.
It was as if a weight had been lifted. Finishing his preparations, he left the house and cheerfully made his way to school.
He could very well take the limousine every day, but he hated that rich stereotype. Instead, he preferred to walk the three kilometers to school. In Dante's company, the journey always felt shorter.
Near the school, he easily spotted him in the crowd of students rushing to the entrance. With his red hair and the fact that he towered over everyone else by at least a head, he was impossible to miss.
When he was within shouting distance, he called out:
"Dante!!!"
Dante turned sharply, searching for the source of the call. As soon as he saw Nick, his face lit up, and he shouted back:
"Nick!!!"
After the usual greetings, Dante remarked that it had been a while since Nick had attended classes. To which Nick replied:
"Oh, that! I had a few issues."
"And are you okay? Do you need help?" his friend quickly inquired.
"No, it's fine. But I do need to talk to you."
"About what?"
"The other night."
At those words, Dante's jovial expression faded, replaced by doubt and fear.
"I thought I had nothing to worry about," he said reproachfully.
"You misunderstood me. It's not about you; it's about me."
Once again puzzled, he looked at his friend with a confused expression. He clearly hadn't expected this.
Then, thinking it over, he seemed to have a revelation. To confirm his suspicions, he asked:
"About your arms?"
Nick nodded. He understood better now but then asked:
"Have you learned anything about what happened that night? It was so crazy and unreal that I still can't believe it."
"Yes, in a way. I'll tell you everything later."
"Alright."
After a moment of walking in silence to the classroom, the cheerful and happy atmosphere that reigned in the corridors caught his attention. He turned to Dante:
"What's going on?"
"Oh, you forgot? It's the school festival week that takes place the day after tomorrow. Since Monday, everyone has been working hard to make the festival a success. Maybe you should participate."
And Nick gave him a very disapproving look. Dante laughed and raised his arms in resignation:
"Of course, I understand."
He then calmed down and continued:
"You're still going to attend?"
Nick remained silent for a moment. His life was changing recently, so much so that he even forgot some crucial matters.
As a member of the school's 'Big Three', it was his duty to attend such events, supposedly to represent the school and set an example, according to the headmaster.
Although he didn't particularly like the role, he had nevertheless decided to stick with it for as long as necessary.
Suddenly, he came to his senses and finally answered the question asked:
"Yeah, of course. I don't know if I'm going to hang around there, but I said I'd come, and I will."
"Sir keeps his promises, I see!" his friend remarked mockingly.
They arrived in a room that one would never have guessed was a classroom, if it weren't for the presence of desks piled up in a corner, and uniforms worn by the students.
The atmosphere was cheerful and, despite the early hour, they were already all working in the centre of the room in a deafening din.