The days following Rui's awakening passed in a blur of examination, silence, and quiet intensity. The once sterile recovery chamber had transformed into a sprawling network of crystalline devices, floating monitors, and hovering arrays. Golden runes danced across the walls as mana conduits pulsed with a steady hum, their faint light casting Rui's pale skin in an ethereal glow.
He sat cross-legged in the center of the chamber, wearing a simple white tunic and loose pants. His silver hair cascaded over his shoulders, faintly illuminated by the gentle glow of his rune-etched irises. His breathing was slow and rhythmic, his chest rising and falling like ocean waves meeting a tranquil shore.
At the far end of the room, Kovar moved with the focus of a surgeon dissecting a miracle. His oversized brain dome glimmered with cascading data streams as rows of floating monitors displayed Rui's vitals, mana flow, neural conductivity, and hundreds of incomprehensible metrics. His gloved hands hovered over intricate crystalline controls, occasionally tapping symbols etched into floating glyphs that hovered above his console.
Fenrir stood nearby, arms crossed, his silhouette imposing against the soft golden glow of the conduits. His predatory gaze was trained on Rui, sharp and unwavering, though he said little. He had become something of a silent guardian in recent days, observing Rui's every reaction and every flicker of power.
"Rui," Kovar's sharp voice cut through the hum of machinery. "Focus. I want you to isolate the mana thread in your palm again. Slowly, deliberately this time."
Rui's gaze flickered toward Kovar. Without speaking, he raised his hand, palm facing upward. A faint silvery thread of mana unraveled from his core, rising through his chest and flowing into his outstretched hand. The thread floated above his palm, shimmering faintly as though alive.
Kovar's eyes twitched behind the flickering lights of his glass dome. His voice lowered, softer now.
"Good… Now, hold it. Keep it still. Do not let it respond to external stimuli."
The thread quivered slightly, flickering like a candle flame caught in a breeze, before stabilizing once more. Rui's brow furrowed slightly, his glowing irises narrowing in concentration.
"Perfect," Kovar muttered, his fingers dancing across the floating control glyphs. "Your mana is no longer behaving like a storm—it's calm, fluid. But it's not natural. This level of precision shouldn't exist without decades of refinement."
Fenrir's gravelly voice carried across the room.
"He's learning faster than you can measure, Kovar. Stop pretending your numbers can explain it."
Kovar scowled but said nothing. Rui let the thread of mana fade away, dissipating into a faint mist. His hand dropped back to his lap, and he let out a slow breath.
"It feels… different," Rui said softly. His voice carried a faint echo, like the distant chime of a bell in an empty hall. "It doesn't fight me anymore. It doesn't resist."
Kovar tilted his head, observing Rui carefully. "That isn't normal, Rui. Mana always resists—it's wild, chaotic, and barely understood. For it to… listen to you so naturally is unprecedented."
Rui's silver eyes lifted, meeting Kovar's pale gaze.
"It's not listening. It's… communicating."
A chill passed through the room at those words.
Over the next few days, Kovar subjected Rui to a series of meticulous and exhaustive tests.
In one experiment, Rui was asked to direct mana to specific parts of his body—his fingertips, his spine, his ocular pathways. Each time, the mana obeyed with almost supernatural ease, flowing like liquid silver precisely where he directed it.
In another test, Rui was instructed to observe a complex rune matrix constructed from hovering crystalline glyphs. Kovar had designed it specifically to confuse and overload a mage's perception, but Rui dismantled its structure in seconds, his glowing eyes tracing the flaws in the sequence as if reading from an open book.
Kovar's fascination grew into something almost manic as he observed Rui's raw potential. The crystalline displays above his control console flickered with unprecedented data:
Kovar finally stepped back from the control panel, his hands trembling slightly.
"I… don't know how else to quantify this. Every metric, every scale, every theory I've ever relied on—Rui exceeds them. This isn't refinement. It's transcendence."
Fenrir, leaning against the far wall, let out a slow breath. "Then rank him. Make it official."
Kovar hesitated. His sharp eyes flicked between Rui and the screens above him.
"There's no rank for this. But… if we're to use the council's framework…"
The holographic displays shifted, and a glowing symbol appeared mid-air above the central console:
[ SS ]
The chamber fell silent.
Rui's silver eyes flickered slightly as he stared at the symbol. He spoke softly, almost to himself.
"SS…"
Fenrir pushed off the wall, his boots thudding against the stone floor as he approached the console.
"There have only been three before him. And none of them are on the council now."
Kovar turned to Rui, his voice trembling slightly despite his best efforts.
"You are the fourth person in recorded history to be ranked SS. Rui, do you understand what this means?"
Rui nodded slowly, his expression calm, his glowing eyes steady.
"It means… I'm seen as dangerous."
Kovar hesitated, then nodded once. "Dangerous, yes. But also valuable—beyond anything this world has ever seen."
Fenrir's sharp voice cut through the moment.
"The council won't see this as just value. They'll see risk. They'll see something they can't control."
Rui's gaze turned to Fenrir, and for a brief moment, the predator's sharp eyes softened as they met Rui's piercing stare.
Later that evening, the chamber was quiet again. Kovar had left to compile his findings, leaving Fenrir and Rui alone. The golden light from earlier had faded entirely, replaced by the faint silvery glow of moonlight filtering through the window.
Fenrir stood near the window, arms crossed, his sharp silhouette outlined against the night sky. Rui sat at the edge of the platform, his feet dangling slightly above the cold stone floor.
After a long silence, Fenrir spoke.
"You've stepped into a world you weren't prepared for, boy. That SS rank… it's both a shield and a target."
Rui nodded faintly. "I know."
"No," Fenrir said firmly, turning to face him. "You think you know. But you don't. The council doesn't see you as a person anymore—they see you as an asset. As something that must either be wielded… or neutralized."
Rui's glowing eyes met Fenrir's gaze. His voice was steady.
"I won't be either."
Fenrir's lips twitched slightly, almost into a smirk. "Good. Hold onto that resolve, boy. You're going to need it."
The two remained silent for a while, the faint hum of mana conduits filling the still air.
The next morning, a faint chime echoed through the recovery chamber. A crystalline panel near the door flickered to life, projecting a holographic sigil into the air—the mark of the Sovereign Council.
Rui stood at the center of the room, his posture straight, his silver eyes calm. Fenrir stood beside him, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
"The council has summoned you," Fenrir said simply.
Rui closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, the runes in his irises glowed faintly.
"I'm ready."