The morning hit like a drunk mana buffalo.
I groaned, cracked one eye open, and immediately regretted existence.
The dorm ceiling loomed overhead, still cracked faintly from Ren's "totally intentional" mana rice cooker explosion last night. Good to know some things didn't change.
Except... something had changed.
[ Adaptive Resonance: Active ]
The notification barely flickered in my mind, but the weight of it sat in my bones.
My skin tingled. My mana buzzed like it was trying to jailbreak out of my ribs, impatient, restless, like it wanted to move before I did.
The shard hidden inside my cloak thrummed gently against my chest, like a second heartbeat I hadn't asked for.
I sat up slowly, muscles aching but somehow... charged.
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Ren called from across the room, wrestling a glowing frying pan that was currently spitting fireballs at him like an angry cat.
"Tell your sentient cookware it owes me rent," I croaked, flopping onto my side.
"Technically, it's freeloading," Ren said cheerfully, dodging another mini-explosion. "Also, pancakes in ten. Might be cursed. Might grant buffs. We roll the dice in this household."
Across the room, Evan sat cross-legged by the window, methodically polishing his blade.
He didn't even glance up — just flicked his silver eyes toward me once, sharp as a thrown dagger, then went back to his work.
He knew something was off.
Of course he did.
Evan could probably smell existential crises.
But he said nothing.
The silence said enough.
A loud BONG echoed across the campus, rattling the window frames.
Mana screens shimmered into existence midair, projecting the sharp, cold face of Instructor Vaerion.
A face carved from pure disappointment and murder.
"Attention, all initiates," Vaerion said, voice booming like a divine judgment.
"Survival Orientation begins tomorrow."
A pause.
No dramatic flair. No gentle warning.
Just reality dropping like a stone.
"Teams will be assigned randomly. Combat readiness is required.
Failure to perform will result in immediate reassignment..."
A beat. A glint in his eye.
"Or expulsion."
The screens flickered once—then vanished without ceremony, leaving the silence heavier than before.
Ren whistled low. "No pressure, huh?"
I exhaled slowly, feeling the shard hum harder against my ribs.
Like it was waiting.
Tomorrow, huh?
Cool. Awesome. I'm so dead.
Breakfast was chaos, as usual.
Students packed into the floating cafeteria platforms, mana lanterns bobbing overhead like confused balloons.
Mana smells everywhere — spiced meat, cursed pastries, questionable coffee.
The whispers started the second I entered.
"That's the Special Admission kid, right?"
"What bloodline is he hiding?"
Nobody said anything to my face, though.
Smart of them.
I still wasn't sure if my unstable mana would blow up if I sneezed too hard.
We found a table near the edge, overlooking the lava rivers snaking below.
Varn, a smug-looking storm mage, swaggered by with his entourage of Discount Disney Villains.
"Hope you brought more than a hoodie and bad luck," he sneered.
Mila, a shadow-user with bored violet eyes, just gave me a slow look.
Not angry. Not amused.
Just... evaluating.
Like she was deciding whether I was a bug to crush or a weapon to aim.
I gave them a polite nod.
Mentally? Flipped them off with both hands.
Ren shoveled cursed pancakes into his mouth like a man who had accepted death as a lifestyle choice.
"Ignore 'em," he said around a mouthful. "You're Special Admission. Mysterious. Sexy. Deadly. Probably doomed. Great branding, bro."
"Thanks, Ren. Really stabilizing my mental health here."
Evan just sipped mana tea silently, looking like he was already planning my funeral.
Mood.
After breakfast, I slipped away.
Needed to move. Needed to think. Needed to not implode in front of an entire cafeteria of witnesses.
The training grounds behind Dorm Sector Seven were empty—for now.
I focused.
Lightning Step activated — sparks dancing across my boots.
I zipped forward — only to immediately stumble as a violent mana backlash punched my ribs from the inside out.
Adaptive Resonance flickered inside me like a dying lightbulb.
"This feels like trying to unlock Ultra Instinct—except instead of Goku, I'm more like Krillin with a death wish."
"Too fast," I muttered, gritting my teeth, clutching my side.
Every time I tapped into Adaptive Resonance now, it reacted instantly — mutating, overclocking — before I could even control it.
It was like trying to ride a dragon while blindfolded during an earthquake inside a hurricane fueled by bad life choices.
I breathed deeply.
Focus. Balance.
Or I was gonna paint the arena walls with my internal organs.
A quiet cough broke my concentration.
I turned—and froze.
Lira Noctharis stood a few feet away, black cloak blending into the bloodred haze of the sky.
Her violet eyes shimmered faintly—not with judgment, like most students.
Not even amusement.
But something softer.
Curiosity.
Maybe... hope.
She said nothing at first.
Just watched me, silent as falling snow.
I braced for some cryptic insult. Some "You're not ready" speech.
Normal Drakensoul intimidation tactics.
Instead—
A small smile.
Tiny. Barely there.
But real.
Lira stepped closer, her voice low, almost shy.
"You're not weak," she said.
I blinked.
Pretty sure my brain blue-screened for a second.
"You're walking a path no one else understands yet."
Her words hit harder than any spell.
No pity.
No mockery.
Just — acknowledgment.
"Even the strongest dragons," she continued softly, "once stood alone.
Before the world remembered their names."
Something heavy lodged itself in my chest.
Not sadness. Not fear.
Hope.
Raw. Unfamiliar. Terrifying.
Lira tilted her head slightly, studying me with that same quiet, unshakable calm.
"Tomorrow..."
She paused, just for a breath.
"Survive."
A whisper.
A command.
A promise.
"I want to see what you become."
And then, like mist blown by a storm, she turned and melted into the haze, leaving nothing behind except the ghost of her words.
I stood there long after she had gone.
Maybe the world wasn't ready for me.
Maybe I wasn't ready for it.
But for the first time since getting yoinked out of Seoul...
I didn't feel completely alone.
Night fell fast.
The Academy shifted like a living beast preparing for war.
"The whole place buzzed like it was waiting for a Chunin Exam — except here, flunking meant actual death, not just emotional trauma."
Floating islands reoriented themselves into jagged combat zones.
Mana storms brewed overhead, swirling red and violet like bleeding galaxies.
Protective barriers shimmered across the campus, humming low and dangerous.
Ren stared out our dorm window, clutching a mana potion like it was holy water.
"We're gonna die," he said cheerfully.
"Nah," I said, strapping on my gear. "Just maimed. Maybe combusted."
Evan tossed a spare mana stabilization charm onto my bed with a thunk.
"Don't die," he said simply.
Emotional bastard.
We did a three-way fist bump.
Silent.
Awkward.
Weirdly sacred.
Bro-code for: "If I die, clear my browser history."
"If Tanjiro got a sad flute soundtrack when he died, we'd probably just get a laugh track."
I checked my cloak, my pendant, my cracked mana gloves.
The dragon shard hummed against my ribs, pulsing stronger now — like it knew.
Tomorrow wasn't just about tests or rankings or titles.
It was survival.
It was destiny punching me in the face and daring me to hit back.
I stepped onto the balcony, letting the night air whip my cloak around me.
The stars looked wrong tonight.
Twisted.
Broken.
Bleeding.
The sky wasn't just bleeding anymore.
It was breaking.
Cracks of pure mana stitched the horizon, leaking glimmers of something darker than night itself.
I closed my eyes, feeling the shard's warmth spread through my veins.
Tomorrow, I wouldn't run.
Tomorrow, I'd fight.
Even if it killed me.
Because damn it...
I was still standing.
And sometimes?
Survival was the most dangerous anomaly of all.
Next on Chapter 12 - Welcome to the Hunger Games, Dragon Edition
📝 Author's Note – No More Running
This is it.
The first real storm.
Jihoon's not the strongest. He's not the fastest. He's not the most blessed by bloodlines or titles.
But sometimes stubbornness is stronger than any skill tree.
Tomorrow — we stop running.
Tomorrow — we break the rules.
See you in Chapter 12, where survival isn't enough.
You have to matter.
Poll Time — Place Your Bets: How Will Jihoon Almost Die First During Survival Orientation?
🌀 A) Trip over his own Lightning Step and faceplant into danger
🧨 B) Accidentally aggro a boss monster while trying to "sneak"
🥲 C) Friendly fire. Ren's cursed pancake explodes at the wrong moment
🐉 D) Try to act cool in front of Lira... and get struck by actual lightning
Vote wisely. Fate is already laughing. ⚡🔥