The Obsidian Spire loomed ahead like a dagger stabbed into the bleeding sky.
Every step closer made the world heavier. The air thickened, buzzing faintly against my skin like static building before a storm. Mana veins pulsed along the Spire's black surface, breathing in and out with a rhythm that felt disturbingly alive.
I pulled my hood tighter and shoved my hands into my cloak pockets, trying to look less like a kid sneaking out after curfew and more like someone who belonged here.
Spoiler: I didn't.
[ Echo Sense: Active ]
Faint vibrations brushed against my mind—dozens of subtle mana signatures flickering at the edges of perception. Watching. Waiting.
The Spire's door stood tall and closed. A seamless slab of blackstone, no handles, no hinges.
As I stepped onto the threshold, the door shuddered—then hissed open on its own.
Inside, only darkness.
Because of course it was.
I swallowed once. Twice.
Then walked in.
The moment I crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind me with a finality that echoed like a tomb sealing.
No light.
No sound.
Nothing except the pounding of my own heartbeat.
Until... whispers.
Faint. Everywhere. Nowhere.
A soft glow blossomed under my boots—glyphs spiraling outward, illuminating the chamber in dim silver-blue light.
I found myself standing in a vast circular room. Blackstone walls stretched upward into infinity, etched with runes older than the Academy itself. Strange figures in cloaks ringed the edges, standing utterly still.
There were nine of them.
All faceless.
All dangerous.
One stepped forward. A silver mask hid their features—etched with a spiral pattern that made my eyes hurt if I looked too long.
"You have come," the masked figure said. Their voice was male, but layered—like two people speaking slightly out of sync.
"Summoned, actually," I muttered, trying to sound cooler than I felt.
The figure chuckled softly. "Semantics."
He raised a hand.
The glyphs on the floor pulsed, and the room's oppressive air tightened further.
"You stand at a crossroads, Jihoon of Earth. A Resonant... unclaimed. Untethered."
I stiffened. "Resonant? You sure you got the right guy?"
"We are sure," another cloaked figure said. Female this time. Her voice dripped with amusement. "Your soul hums with the music of multiple realms. You are... anomaly and opportunity."
...Multiple realms?
I had questions.
Unfortunately, this felt like the kind of situation where asking too many got you ritual sacrificed or turned into a talking sword.
"Cool speech," I said lightly. "But, uh, not to be that guy... I'm not half-dragon or anything. No secret bloodline. No royal heritage. Just... human. Very stubborn. Mildly allergic to destiny."
The cloaked figures murmured among themselves.
"You misunderstand," the masked leader said. "Bloodlines are only one form of Resonance. You, Jihoon... are something different."
"The system," I muttered under my breath.
Of course. They had no idea what it was.
To them, my Adaptive Insight, my Resurrection cooldown, my growing powers—they must look like mutated dragon traits, or forbidden experiments.
I was a glitch in their grand design.
And glitches? They scare old systems more than monsters ever could.
"You feel like us," the leader said. "But you are not us. Not yet. That is why you must be tested."
Tested.
Yup. Should've seen that one coming.
"Let me guess," I said. "No written portion. No multiple choice. Just the traumatizing mind-bending trial?"
The leader's mask tilted slightly. "You are quick."
"Thanks. It's a coping mechanism."
Without further ceremony, the glyphs at my feet flared.
And the world shattered.
I fell.
Not physically—more like my mind dropped into a swirling abyss.
Fragments of memories—some mine, some not—flashed across my vision.
Seoul in ruins.
Blood on cracked asphalt.
Dragons roaring over burning cities.
A little girl crying by a broken wall.
A hand reaching.
Falling stars.
A black obelisk splitting the Earth.
The visions twisted, folding over each other like a kaleidoscope of nightmares.
Then—
I stood in a battlefield of bones.
Sky torn open, rain falling sideways, ash choking the air.
Ahead, two figures clashed in a hurricane of power.
One of them wore scales. Black and gold. Wings like a thunderstorm unfurling.
The other... wore my face.
Older. Hardened. Eyes burning with a wild, desperate fire.
"Kaneki had it bad, but at least he got cool white hair out of his existential crisis. What do I get? Nightmares and a hoodie that smells like despair."
As I watched, the scaled version of me roared—an inhuman, guttural sound—and smashed my human self into the ground.
The vision rippled.
I stood again—but now at a crossroads.
One path led to the scaled version—immense power, but monstrous, devouring everything human left inside me.
The other led to my broken, stubborn human self—weak, vulnerable, clinging to something the world had long since abandoned.
Choice.
I was being asked to choose.
Strength... or self.
I clenched my fists.
Memories—not visions, real ones—flashed behind my eyelids.
Dragging a crying child from rubble.
Pushing through endless training with no promise of reward.
Laughing at cheap manga panels alone in my crappy apartment.
I wasn't strong because of bloodlines.
I wasn't weak because of humanity.
I was me.
And that was enough.
I turned away from the scaled path without hesitation.
The dream cracked apart.
I gasped, snapping back into my body.
The cloaked Resonants watched silently as I staggered forward, breath heaving.
The masked leader nodded once. Approval? Maybe.
"You chose well," he said. "Not many do."
Another figure stepped forward, holding something wrapped in velvet.
A silver fragment glinted as they unwrapped it—a shard of a dragon's scale, etched with runes so old they seemed more suggestion than writing.
The shard pulsed faintly as it neared me.
"This is your birthright now," the leader said. "A key. A beacon. A burden."
I took it, feeling a jolt of something electric skitter through my veins.
The shard felt heavy—like it remembered wars older than Earth itself.
"You must decide when to use it," the leader continued. "When to awaken it."
"Awaken what?"
He tilted his head.
"The world inside you."
Not ominous at all. Nope. Totally fine.
I tucked the shard into my cloak, feeling its hum against my ribs.
The leader's voice dropped lower.
"Beware the Council. They fear what they do not control. And beware the deeper slumber still."
My chest tightened.
"The Slumbering One," I whispered.
Several Resonants flinched visibly.
The leader simply nodded.
"The seals weaken. Old hungers stir. And you... you may stand between feast and famine."
No pressure.
He gestured toward the now-glowing doorway.
"Go. For now, you walk between worlds unseen. But not forever."
I turned, feeling their stares burn into my back.
As I crossed the threshold back into the city night, the Spire whispered around me:
"Not chosen... but forged."
Outside, the blood-red sky had darkened into a bruised violet. The floating islands drifted like sleeping titans overhead. Mana-lanterns guttered weakly in the thickening air.
I slipped through the empty streets, the scale shard tucked against my heart.
Every step away from the Spire, I felt something different inside me.
Not power.
Not corruption.
A rhythm.
A pulse.
Like I was no longer walking alone.
The city loomed ahead, lights flickering uncertainly.
Tomorrow, the trials would continue. The politics. The threats.
Kael Dravion would smirk.
Seris Vellune would stare.
Lira Noctharis would watch, quiet and calculating.
The Council would whisper.
The factions would maneuver.
And me?
I wasn't the strongest.
I wasn't the most skilled.
I wasn't even supposed to be here.
But I was still standing.
And sometimes, survival was the most dangerous anomaly of all.
Chapter 11 –Sparks Before the Storm
📝 Author's Note — Congratulations, You're Still Alive (Somehow):
And that's the end of Chapter 9!
Jihoon survived the Spire, unlocked weird powers, and is officially too spicy for normal dragon politics now.
⚡ Poll Time — Jihoon just unlocked forbidden Resonance powers. What's his next logical move?
A) Immediately fake a legendary bloodline and demand free lunch privileges.
B) Pretend the Gathering was just an intense group therapy session.
C) Speedrun the "Expelled from Dragon School" any% route.
D) Open a mana-powered pancake shop and challenge Kael to a cook-off instead of a duel.
⬇️ Drop your cursed survival plans below!
Because if Jihoon's gonna crash and burn, he's doing it with flair.
Chapter 11 is where the real social disasters begin:
Awkward stares in the Academy hallways? ✅
Secret bets on Jihoon's survival? ✅
Accidentally flexing new powers at breakfast? Probably ✅
✨ Pro tip: If your aura starts glowing in public, just scream "It's allergies!" and sprint away. 100% effective. (Probably.)
See you in the next chapter, chaos legends! 🐉💀