"What the…?"
Sean stared in disbelief, his thoughts spinning as the announcement echoed endlessly in his mind. The words carried weight, each repetition sinking deeper into his chest.
A dungeon expedition. THEE DUNGEON EXPEDITION!
His thoughts were interrupted when the teacher, Mr. Ravon, resumed his announcement, his sharp voice slicing through the excited murmurs in the classroom.
"Since today is Tuesday, you have three days to prepare," he said, his stern gaze scanning the room. "We leave Saturday morning. Ensure you're ready for what's to come."
For a moment, the room was silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Then, like a floodgate bursting, roars of excitement erupted from the students.
Mr. Ravon raised his hand, demanding silence once more. "For those of you who are... less capable, I suggest you prepare even harder. This is a mandatory trip. Use this opportunity to gain experience and grow stronger—if you can."
His final words came softer, almost a whisper, as his eyes flicked to Sean, lingering just a moment too long. Sean clenched his fists under his desk as Mr. Ravon offered a small smile of encouragement—a smile laced with pity. It wasn't the smile that stung; it was the unspoken truth behind it.
"That's all for now," Mr. Ravon continued, turning to the board. "Now, as I was saying…"
But Sean wasn't listening anymore. The cheers and buzz around him faded into static as his thoughts spiraled.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur. The air buzzed with anticipation, students chattering excitedly about their strategies and preparations. For many, this dungeon expedition was an adventure, an opportunity to climb the ranks and prove their worth.
For Sean, it was a death sentence.
He slumped in his seat, staring blankly at the desk. His heart was heavy with dread, his mind replaying every horror story he'd ever heard about novice mages falling prey to dungeon monsters.
**E-rank dungeons are the weakest**, they said. **But even weak dungeons can kill.**
Sean wasn't just weak. He was weaker than weak—barely a novice, if that. The idea of stepping into a dungeon with nothing but his fragile body made his skin crawl.
"If only I had some magic," he muttered to himself, staring at his trembling hands. "Maybe I'd have a chance to survive…"
---
In Aeonara, magic wasn't just power—it was life itself. Mages were ranked based on their abilities, from Novice to the legendary Archon Sage.
**Novices** could barely light a flame or move water. **Apprentices** could enchant simple objects and create basic wards. By the time a mage reached the rank of **Adept**, they were skilled in combat magic, alchemy, and healing.
Sean was neither.
He had no rank, no magic, and no future. In a world that revered the strong, the weak were nothing but fodder—expendable and forgotten.
Sean's survival thus far had been nothing short of a miracle. Abandoned at birth, he'd grown up in an orphanage where the kind nannies had spared his life despite his lack of magic. But sometimes, he wished they hadn't.
---
The final bell rang, snapping him out of his thoughts. He packed his worn-out bag and headed toward the door, his mind clouded with dread for the coming days. Just as he reached the exit, a group of boys blocked his path.
Dean Scarlett stood at the center, his signature smirk plastered on his face.
"Well, well," Dean drawled, crossing his arms. "If it isn't Point Break."
Sean sighed, the nickname cutting deeper than usual. He stepped aside, but Dean's cronies weren't letting him off that easily.
"Move, prick!" one sneered, shoving Sean back a few steps.
"Beat it, magicless!" another jeered.
Sean's hands trembled, his anger boiling under the surface. He bit his tongue, suppressing the retort threatening to burst out. His glare was sharp as he stepped aside, letting them pass.
"Just you wait…" he muttered under his breath, though the fire in his words felt hollow.
---
On his way home, Sean's path took him through a park where children played. Sparks of fire and streams of water lit the air as they showed off their magic, laughing and cheering each other on.
These kids weren't even novice mages yet. They were simply preparing for the upcoming **Lunaria Talent Test**, which determined magical potential and assigned ranks.
Sean stopped for a moment, watching them. His chest tightened as jealousy clawed at his heart. They had everything—magic, talent, futures.
"What I'd give to have that kind of power…" he whispered, his voice lost in the wind.
---
The scene of the playing children faded as Sean continued his lonely walk home. The shadows of the towering buildings loomed over him, mirroring the weight of his despair.
For the first time in years, he allowed himself to dream. What if, somehow, something changed? What if he could break free from this endless cycle of weakness and pity?
But as the familiar sight of his small, crumbling apartment came into view, the dream shattered.
Sean was powerless.
And in three days, he would face a dungeon. His doom.
Whether he came out alive was a question no one cared to ask.