The morning sun bled through the cracks in the wooden shutters, casting thin golden lines over the dusty floor of a cramped, one-bedroom house. The walls, once white, had faded into a dull gray, peeling at the corners where time had gnawed away at them. The furniture was sparse—a small wooden table with a single chair, a creaky bed barely wide enough for a grown boy, and an old cabinet filled with a few neatly folded clothes.

Ron sat cross-legged on the bed, his dark eyes locked onto the ceiling as he listened to the faint sounds of the city waking up beyond his window. The distant chatter of shopkeepers opening their stores, the hum of hover-trams gliding along magnetic tracks, and the rhythmic marching of academy students heading to Titan Awakener Academy.

He exhaled slowly. Another day in a world that didn't care for the weak.

A Harsh Reality

Ron stood up, stretching his lean frame. He wasn't particularly tall yet, but his body was already starting to grow into the signs of a warrior—his muscles were compact and firm from years of self-discipline, though his clothes hung a little loose on his frame.

He walked to the small mirror hanging on the wall, inspecting himself. His dark hair was slightly unkempt, his face sharper than most his age, with piercing black eyes that seemed too mature for a sixteen-year-old.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten properly in a day. He walked over to the cabinet and pulled out the last piece of stale bread from a cloth-wrapped bundle.

"I need to make this last," he thought, taking slow bites as he grabbed his academy bag.

His finances were a delicate balance. The small inheritance left by his parents, carefully managed, ensured he didn't starve, but luxuries like fresh food or new clothes were out of the question. Every coin spent was another step closer to nothing.

He refused to let that happen.

With one last glance at his home—a place that barely deserved the name—he stepped outside.

The Academy of Titans

Titan Awakener Academy loomed over the city like a fortress. Its towering walls of white stone glowed under the morning sun, engraved with ancient symbols of power. The entrance was guarded by enormous holographic banners, flickering with bold golden words:

"Embrace Your Awakening. Become Humanity's Shield."

Ron scoffed under his breath. A place for the elite.

Students in pristine academy uniforms walked in groups, laughing, talking, exuding confidence. They were awakeners—people blessed by the alien crystals, chosen by fate to receive supernatural abilities. Every one of them had a system guiding their growth, ensuring they would become stronger with time.

Ron had no such luxury.

The moment he stepped through the academy gates, the usual whispers began.

"Look, it's the scholarship orphan."

"He still hasn't awakened? What's the point of him even coming here?"

"Pathetic."

Ron ignored them, keeping his gaze forward. He had no intention of arguing with fools.

As he walked down the hallway, a familiar voice called out, laced with mockery.

"Still pretending like you belong, orphan?"

Ron stopped, glancing toward the speaker.

Bryce Harrington.

Golden-haired, sharp-featured, and clad in an immaculate academy uniform, Bryce was the epitome of privilege. His A-rank Lightning attribute made him one of the strongest first-years, and he never let anyone forget it.

A few other students gathered around, entertained by the impending humiliation.

Ron met Bryce's gaze with an expression of pure indifference.

"You talk a lot," Ron said flatly.

Bryce's smirk twitched. "Maybe I should remind you of your place."

Sparks of golden electricity crackled around Bryce's hand. The crowd edged closer, eager for a show.

Ron's fingers twitched, his instincts screaming at him to move. If Bryce attacked, would he dodge? Fight back? Take the hit?

Before he could decide, a sharp voice cut through the tension.

"That's enough."

A tall girl with silver hair stepped forward, her piercing blue eyes locking onto Bryce. Eleanor Vael. She was from one of the great families—high-ranking, powerful, and unlike most others, she had never openly mocked Ron.

Bryce clicked his tongue. "Tch. Whatever. Not worth my time."

He turned and walked away, his entourage following with laughter.

Ron exhaled quietly. One day.

One day, he wouldn't need anyone to intervene for him.

Eleanor glanced at him, her voice neutral. "You should stop provoking him."

"I don't provoke anyone," Ron said. "They just don't like that I exist."

She didn't reply, only studying him for a moment before walking away.

Ron watched her leave before heading to his classroom.

A World Built on Power

In this world, strength determined everything.

Awakeners leveled up by killing aliens and monsters, gaining new skills every ten levels.

Ordinary humans were stuck with mundane lives, barely more than spectators.

Cultivators? They were a thing of the past. A dead practice. A myth.

Ron, however, wasn't convinced.

He had spent nights buried in old texts, searching for any mention of an alternative path. And he had found whispers—fragments of knowledge speaking of a power beyond systems.

"True power does not come from external blessings, but from the will to surpass all limits."

Those words had stayed with him.

They felt… right.

The Library's Secrets

After classes ended, Ron made his way to the academy library. Unlike the training grounds filled with cocky awakeners flaunting their skills, the library was quiet.

He traced his fingers over the spines of old books, searching. His heart pounded when he found a title that caught his eye:

"The Path of Cultivation: A Forgotten Art."

The book was old, its pages yellowed, the ink faded.

He flipped through the first few pages, absorbing the words hungrily.

"Cultivation is the refinement of body, mind, and soul. It is a path walked by those who seek true mastery, unshackled by fate."

Ron clenched his fists. This was it.

The academy saw him as a failure. The world had already decided his worth.

But they had no idea.

He might be an orphan. He might be alone.

But he wasn't weak.

Not forever.

And soon, the world would see that systems weren't the only path to strength.