The Gathering of Shadows
Professor Orion's voice droned on, his words echoing off the cold, stone walls of the lecture hall. His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, seemed to bore into the souls of his students as he lectured. His silver hair was slicked back, revealing a prominent widow's peak, and his sharp jawline was accentuated by the dim lighting of the hall.
Ray barely heard him. His mind wandered, lost in the weight of his insignia—the single, empty band on his collar that marked him as a zero-star awakened. A reminder of his failure.
He was a rare anomaly, someone who had never appeared in the course of history, a newly path awakened born with no talented abilities. Around him, his classmates sat upright, their eyes sharp, absorbing every word. They weren't struggling. They weren't trapped in the same endless cycle of effort and disappointment, as he was.
He exhaled slowly, staring at his desk. What would it take? He had studied harder than anyone, memorized every technique, analyzed every theory. And yet, when he reached into the star realm, all he found was emptiness.
It did not make any sense, his parents were renowned five-star realm walkers from the summoning path, so what went wrong with him?
"Ray!" A sharp voice snapped him back to reality. He blinked. Mira had turned from her seat, eyes narrowed.
"Are you even listening?"
"Yeah," he lied, straightening.
She didn't look convinced. "You should pay attention. This is important."
He nodded, though he doubted any of it would help him.
Mira was Ray's only friend, a single star prodigy, talented in the rare path of mind compulsion and dream manipulation.
Although he didn't like to admit it, Ray was kind of jealous of Mira.
She was someone who although weak, was outstanding and better than him.
Amidst his thoughts, the professor's voice sounded, disrupting his useless thoughts
"As we have discussed, star gazing is the art of wandering—stepping through realities, manipulating the energy of the subconscious to shape and structure the world around us. However, not all awakened are equal, nor can they star gaze into the same realms. The number of stars and one's class define their potential."
A few students chuckled.
Ray sank lower in his seat.
"One-star awakened possess minimal control over the star realms and often struggle with sustained manifestations. Two-star walkers show increased ability, while three-star awakened have true command over their star realms. Beyond that, the four-star and five-star awakened are rare, powerful individuals capable of reshaping the very fabric of a star world."
A hand shot up in the middle of the lecture hall.
"Professor," called out a blonde haired boy, his voice carrying an unmistakable edge of amusement. "You forgot to elaborate on zero stars."
A ripple of laughter spread through the room.
Ray's entire body tensed.
Professor Orion, to his credit, didn't react to the mockery. His expression remained unreadable as he turned toward Ronan.
"There is nothing to elaborate on," he said flatly. "A zero-star is not an awakened at all."
Another round of chuckles echoed through the hall.
Ray gritted his teeth.
He should be used to it by now.
But somehow, it still burned.
Mira shot him a look—half sympathy, half frustration—but Ray kept his gaze fixed on the desk, willing the moment to pass.
Ronan smirked and leaned back in his chair, clearly satisfied.
The professor continued his lecture as if the question had never been asked, but Ray couldn't shake the weight pressing against his chest.
Ray clenched his jaw.
He already knew all of this.
He had read every book he could find, studied every theory. But knowledge alone wasn't enough.
He needed strength, and unfortunately for him he had no talent in possessing it.
As the lecture ended.The bell rang, and students shuffled to gather their things, and chatted excitedly about their next class.
The room buzzed with quiet conversation as Ray slipped his notebook into his bag. He had nearly made it to the door when a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Hey, Zero Star!"
Ray froze.
Ronan.
Slowly, he turned, already dreading what was coming.
The golden-haired student leaned lazily against the wall, flanked by his usual entourage. He stared at Ray with his usual smirk, which was both sharp and predatory.
Behind him, his usual entourage—Leoric, Dane, and Felix—stood watching, their expressions twisted in anticipation.
Unlike Ray, they weren't nobodies.
Leoric was a one-star walker, already skilled in the art of physical augmentation and combat mastery. Dane specialized in a unique path of weaving illusions, and his mastery of it was a talent, a few first-years could not even attempt. And Felix? He had been born into a prestigious family of dream scholars, practically raised on advanced techniques.
And Ronan?
He was a two-star walker, one of the best in their class.
Ray knew the routine. He had learned, through painful experience, that fighting back only made things worse.
"You looked lost back there," Ronan said, tilting his head. "Daydreaming again? Maybe hoping you'll magically become useful?"
Ronan's entourage as expected, laughed at the blonde-haired kid's pathetic jokes.
Ray swallowed hard and stared at the floor. Silence was safer.
Leoric smirked and reached out, flicking the dull emblem on Ray chest. "How'd you even get in here, Aldren? Some kind of mistake?"
Ray felt his throat tighten. He didn't respond—he knew better.
But Ronan wasn't done.
"You know, I admire your persistence," he continued, stepping forward. "It must be exhausting, failing *every single day.*"
Ray clenched his fists.
'Just walk away.', he telled himself.
He took a step to the side, but Ronan blocked him.
"What's the rush?" Ronan's smirk widened. "Oh, right—you've got nothing *important* to do."
Ray heart pounded. The hallway felt too small, the walls pressing in. He willed himself to stay calm.
Then, without warning, Ronan shoved him.
The force wasn't much, but Ray stumbled, his balance wavering. Laughter rippled through the hallway. Heat crept up his neck.
And then— A hand caught his arm, steadying him.
"Leave him."
The voice cut through the tension like a blade.
Elaine Sinclair.
She stood a few feet away, arms crossed, her auburn hair catching the light from the academy's entrance. A three-star walker, one of the top students of the second year. Ray barely knew her, but this wasn't the first time she had interfered when Ronan had taken things too far.
"Enough."
She stepped between them, her gaze sharp as steel. "You think this is funny?" she asked, voice low and cold. "Picking on someone who can't fight back?"
Ronan's smirk faltered, but only for a moment. He let out a scoff. "Relax, Sinclair. We're just having a little fun."
Elaine's expression darkened. "Fun for you, maybe. For him? It's pathetic."
Ronan's jaw tightened. A flicker of irritation passing through his golden eyes, but he only clicked his tongue and took a step back. "Whatever. This isn't over, Aldren."
He turned, his entourage following. The crowd dispersed.
Ray exhaled, shoulders slumping.
"You okay?" Elaine asked.
He nodded, though the tightness in his chest remained.
"You need to stand up for yourself," she said, softer this time. "You can't just let them walk over you."
Ray swallowed, looking away. *You think I don't know that?*
But words felt useless.
Instead, he just scowled and forced a "Thanks."
Elaine studied him for a moment, and released a sigh.
She could tell that the words were forced out but she let it slide.
As she walked away, Ray lingered for a breath before heading to his next class.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Ray went through the motions, attending his classes and taking notes, and eventually all his lectures ended.
As the sun began to set, he made his way back to his dormitory.
He drifted through the corridors, the weight of the day pressing on his shoulders like a phantom chain.
He couldn't stop thinking about Ronan's words, the way he had been treated like a zero.
As he moved towards the door of his room, his mind lost in thought and his eyes fixed on the ground, he heard a voice behind him.
"Hey, Ray."
He turned to see Mira walking towards him, a concerned look on her face.
"What's wrong?" she asked, falling into step beside him.
Ray shrugged. "Just Ronan being his usual self."
Mira's expression darkened. "I'm sorry, Ray. I know how much he gets to you."
Ray forced a smile. "It's fine. I'm used to it."
But Mira wasn't fooled. She knew Ray better than anyone, and she could see the pain in his eyes.
As they walked, the silence between them grew thicker. Ray couldn't shake the feeling that he was trapped, that he would never be able to escape the cycle of failure.
But Mira's presence was a reminder that he wasn't alone. She was his friend, his confidante, and she would always be there to support him.
As they reached the dormitory, Ray turned to Mira. "Thanks," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Mira smiled, her eyes shining with warmth. "Anytime, Ray. That's what friends are for.
After Mira left to her own room, Ray went towards his bed, and lied down facing the roof.
As Ray stared at the roof, a chill suddenly brushed against his skin, even though the room wasn't cold. He frowned, shaking the feeling off.
The feeling did not disappear, he still felt a chill run down his spine, an instinctual warning that something was amiss. He turned his head slightly, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. The room was dim, the fading light casting long shadows that danced across the walls, but this shadow was different. It was darker, more tangible, as if it were a living entity.
Unknown to him at the corner of the room, a figure draped in shadows and chains stood motionlessly staring at him.
The figure was wearing a cloak that seemed to be made from darkness, it was thin, and it moved as if alive.
A reapers scythe was on its back, and two red eyes shown from the darkness of its cloak, fixed directly at Ray.