Raon sat at the edge of the rickety wooden pier, his bare feet dangling over the water. The lake shimmered under the afternoon sun, but his focus was elsewhere. Tomorrow was the day. His eighteenth birthday. The day he would awaken his class at the guild hall, just like everyone else in the village when they came of age
But unlike most people in his hometown, Raon didn't feel excitement coursing through his veins. He felt dread.
The system was supposed to be fair, balanced even, yet somehow it always seemed to know. People like Kalin, the son of a knight, awakened with warrior classes. Mira, the baker's daughter, got an artisan class tailored to her skills. Raon, though? He wasn't anyone special. Just the quiet son of a fisherman who'd died years ago.
He glanced at his reflection in the water. Black hair framed sharp features, and his blue-gray eyes held a mixture of hope and fear. He was tall and wiry, strong from years of hauling nets and scaling fish. But that wouldn't matter tomorrow. The system didn't care about what you were—it cared about what you could be.
The sound of footsteps on the gravel path jolted him from his thoughts. It was Mira, her long auburn hair braided neatly over one shoulder. She waved as she approached, holding a small basket in her hands.
"Nervous?" she asked with a teasing smile.
Raon shrugged. "A little. You?"
She shook her head. "I was, but once I realized it was out of my control, I stopped worrying. The system knows best."
"Does it, though?" Raon muttered, looking away. He didn't need to say more. Mira knew what he meant. She'd seen the ones who awakened with cursed classes—the Unwanted, as the villagers called them. People who got undead, monster, or other unholy alignments. They were shunned, feared, sometimes even exiled.
Mira's voice softened. "Raon… it'll be fine. You're not like them."
He didn't answer.
The next morning, Raon stood outside the guild hall, the largest building in the village. Its stone walls loomed over him, etched with carvings of heroes and legends who had awakened here generations ago. A faint hum resonated from inside, the telltale sound of the system's activation.
Inside, the room was vast, with a glowing crystal floating at its center. The gathered villagers whispered in anticipation, though they wouldn't see or hear the results of each awakening. The system's readings were private—only the individual knew what class they had received. Of course there were ways for your status to be read by others.
Raon took his place in line, watching the others approach the crystal one by one. Some stepped back with bright, confident smiles. Others left pale, avoiding eye contact. No one said a word about what they'd gotten.
Finally, his name was called. The guildkeeper gestured him forward, and Raon swallowed hard, his palms clammy as he approached the crystal.
He placed his trembling hand on its smooth, glowing surface. A chill shot up his arm, spreading through his body. The world around him seemed to fade as the system's voice echoed in his mind.
[Scanning… Analyzing… Assigning Class.]
The pause felt like an eternity. Then it spoke again, cold and mechanical.
[Class Assigned: Undead Wendigo.]
[Unique Alignment: Monster.]
[Stat Modifier: Enhanced Strength, Hunger Curse.]
Raon's breath hitched. He stared at the crystal, its glow fading as it severed its connection. His hand dropped to his side, and he stepped back. The guildkeeper nodded at him, motioning for the next person in line, but Raon barely noticed.
Undead Wendigo. The words repeated in his mind like a curse. He didn't know much about the class, but the word "Undead" alone was enough to chill him to the bone.
He walked out of the guild hall, his face blank. The villagers waiting outside glanced at him, curious, but he didn't stop. No one asked, and Raon didn't offer.
By the time he reached the edge of the lake, his knees buckled. He dropped to the ground, staring at his trembling hands. They didn't look any different, but he could feel it—something dark and primal, stirring just beneath the surface.
"Why me?" he whispered to the empty air.
The system didn't answer. It never did.