A dull knocking echoes through the shabby room. The weak rays of morning sunlight break through the tattered curtains, sweep across dusty furniture, and finally settle on a young man half-buried under his blanket.
His raven-black hair contrasts starkly with his golden, glowing eyes, which are currently hidden behind closed lids.
His bed creaks in protest as he shifts, burrowing his head deeper into the pillow and attempting to ignore the now louder knocking.
"Lumen Eldareth!" The shrill voice of his elderly landlady pierces through the thin walls, as irritable as ever.
"Open up! The Heroes of Nowhere are here!"
Lumen exhales deeply, his shoulders rising and falling lazily. He pulls the blanket over his head, muttering, "Can't the old hag just drop dead and let me sleep?"
The knocking grows more insistent, heavier. A deeper voice replaces that of the landlady.
"Alright, I'm coming" Lumen grumbles.
With a mix of annoyance and resignation, he swings his legs out of bed. His golden eyes glow faintly in the dim light as he trudges toward the door, his steps slow and almost dragging.
He cracks the door open, just enough to avoid the sight of his landlady's wrinkled face and instead comes face to face with a tall, broad man in a military uniform. The sight freezes Lumen in place.
He instantly realizes what his landlady meant.
"Lumen Eldareth?" The officer's curt tone pairs with a disdainful glance that sweeps over Lumen's messy hair and worn clothing, which is far from impressive.
"Depends on who's asking" Lumen replies lazily, leaning against the doorframe.
"Congratulations, recruit. You are hereby conscripted. Report to the barracks in four hours."
"Thanks, but I have to refuse." Lumen tries to shut the door, but the officer blocks it with his foot. His eyes narrow as he leans in slightly.
"Resisting the military is punishable by execution. Report in four hours." With a final sharp look, the officer turns and marches away.
Lumen stays frozen, staring at the door as though the words have only just sunk in. His thoughts whirl, but he shakes his head before turning away.
"You still owe rent this month!" his landlady shouts from the hallway, her tone sharp and unyielding.
"She's lucky I haven't pushed her down the stairs yet" Lumen mutters, collapsing back onto the bed.
~~~
The atmosphere on the streets is heavy, conversations are mostly quit. The shadow of the military and sudden conscriptions looms large. Families embrace, mothers wiping tears while fathers attempt to mask their unease with stoic expressions.
A nearby restaurant screen flickers, the speakers crackling before the newscaster speaks: "Reports indicate another Essence Storm in the Old Town. All citizens within a two-kilometer radius are strongly advised to evacuate immediately."
Lumen pauses, staring at the screen. The thought of being sent into such a storm sends a shiver through him.
He shakes his head, his eyes briefly glowing as he moves on. The military has begun recruiting awakened individuals registered in their database, along with unawakened civilians, to fight the monsters of the Abyss.
Unawakened civilians, with no powers, are often thrown into Essence Storms in the hope that they'll awaken and become Sparkbearers.
Lumen remembers the awakening process, which is quite different for everyone but always occurs for the same reason.
Too much Essence from the Abyss sometimes converges at a single point, forming an Essence Storm.
If a person nearby can absorb this Essence, they undergo the Voidfire, a brutal trial that changes everything.
Lumen knows how dangerous it is. If one survives the Voidfire, they awaken with special powers. But if an Essence Storm is left unchecked, monsters sense the Abyssal energy, anchor to it, and create dimensional rifts, connection both worlds.
"And the military expects teenagers like me to stop that, or happily die trying" Lumen mutters with a quiet snort.
He is on his way towards the military academy.
~~~
The barracks look outdated compared to the modern buildings nearby. It's also less a traditional barrack and more a large hall.
Outside the heavily guarded gate, Lumen spots a group of young men and women, all around his age. The same stern officer from earlier stands beside them, still grim.
Most of the recruits appear nervous and uncertain, except for one striking girl with white blond hair, wearing a military uniform and a blue coat. Her icy blue eyes are sharp and focused, projecting the aura of someone born for combat.
Next to her stands a boy with brown hair and unsettling red eyes, who keeps casting assessing glances at Lumen, as though trying to figure him out.
"Alright, I'll explain the process and what your lives will look like for the next four years assuming you survive that long" the officer, who introduces himself as Kael, declares with a booming laugh.
"You're about 20 people and will soon be divided into two groups: Useful or Useless. In other words, awakend or ordinary humans."
"As you should know, awakened individuals are ranked by their strength. The first rank, Sparkbearers, can sense and store small amounts of Essence. They can use basic abilities, also called Stigma, and their bodies are as strong as top athletes."
Compared to ordinary humans, they're superhuman. But Sparkbearers shouldn't overestimate themselves, they can be snuffed out just as easily."
Kael asks who among them is already awakened. The silver-haired girl immediately raises her hand, saluting with military precision that seems to please Kael.
Eight others, including Lumen, raise their hands, albeit less enthusiastically. Kael fixes his gaze on Lumen, scrutinizing him. His unruly, jet-black hair nearly covers his eyes, and his oversized, tattered clothing gives him the appearance of a sluggish, lifeless homeless person.
"The second rank, Ignited, is what all Sparkbearers aim to reach. Once awakened to this rank, you'll manifest your Arkana, the ultimate weapon of every awakend, capable of obliterating a large building. Never use it recklessly."
Kael extends his right arm, and gray sparks begin to form in the air above the recruits. The sparks dance like wild, tiny lights, filling the atmosphere with an eerie energy.
The air grows heavier, like the oppressive chill of a mountaintop. Some recruits shift uneasily, staring in disbelief.
Kael closes his fingers into a fist, and the gray sparks turn golden and brilliant. Their glow captivates the recruits, evoking a mix of awe and fear. The very air seems to shimmer under an unbearable pressure.
Without warning, the golden sparks explode with a deafening force. The shockwave knocks some recruits off their feet, and a dazzling light engulfs the area.
As the smoke clears, fine soot stains some of the recruits' faces. A heavy silence settles, broken only by the coughs of those inhaling the dusty air. Kael watches the scene with a faint smile before laughing dryly.
"That's my Stigma, Aschebrand."