"Next, please!"
The clear voice cut through the air in the waiting room, calling the next candidates for the dreaded Rank reassessment. The person in charge was an Association employee—young, Asian, with straight black hair tied back in a simple bun. Her standard Association uniform looked ordinary, but there was something about her presence that attracted too many glances.
Pretty, yes. Perhaps too pretty. The kind of beauty that seemed calculated to make an impact, not to comfort. Seth frowned slightly as he noticed the man in front of him practically drooling over her.
"This place looks like the American branch... Nothing has changed in these places. They still hide their ferocity behind smiles and makeup."
The thought came dryly, cynically, as he looked away with restrained boredom.
All around, the atmosphere was charged with tension. Men and women of various ages occupied the chairs in the lobby, some in armor still stained with dried blood, others in suits, trying to maintain a facade of control. But the anxiety was palpable. For many there, it was their first evaluation. For others, like Seth, it was their last chance to break with the past and change categories—or disappear from the radar.
Since the Second Ascension, the Association had had no peace. The number of individuals with active mana had skyrocketed in the last six months. It is estimated that today, about 87% of the world's population has some level of magical affinity.
With that came more dungeons, more ruptures, more monsters... and more hunters.
The line moved slowly, as if each step were a sentence. Seth leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, watching the others like a wolf surrounded by anxious sheep. He wasn't nervous. Not really. But he wasn't comfortable either.
After all, his file still said Rank-E. And now, at the doors of the Alpha room, all eyes would soon be on him.
"You don't need to be nervous."
The voice came from a man just ahead of Seth—tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a worn tactical vest. He looked like a veteran, but his gaze was kind, almost brotherly. He was addressing two teenagers who could barely have been fifteen. The boys sat side by side, their school uniforms still under their coats, clutching their application forms as if they were shields.
"I know it's scary," the man continued, crouching down slightly to speak at their eye level. "There are people here who have seen their lives turned upside down after becoming hunters. But if you stay strong, keep your head on straight... this could be a real opportunity. You can make real money. Help your family. Maybe even change your life."
One of the boys tried to smile, but the tremor in his jaw gave him away. The other just nodded silently.
Seth watched everything in silence, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His gaze passed briefly over the boys and the man, as if he were mentally classifying them: Beginners, hopeful, potential suicides.
He wasn't the inspiring type. He didn't give speeches. And, honestly, the optimism of the man in front of him seemed almost cruel. Because the truth—the truth that Seth knew and everyone there suspected—was that most of them wouldn't make it out of the next dungeon alive. Not everyone was cut out to kill monsters. Not everyone came back.
A low hum echoed through the speaker in the corner of the room.
"Call for group 12-A. Reassessment of Ranks C to E. Proceed to Room Alpha."
Seth moved, pushing his shoulder against the wall to move away. The boys' eyes turned to him reflexively. Something in his posture — relaxed, precise, unhesitating — betrayed that he was not like the others.
The man encouraging them noticed it too. He frowned.
"You... have you been through this before?" he asked.
Seth gave a brief, humorless smile.
"Once," he replied simply.
The door to the Alpha Room opened with a subtle hiss, revealing a short corridor lined with sparkling glyphs. The air inside seemed denser, charged with mana that vibrated like static under the skin. Each step toward the room was accompanied by a slight shiver—not of fear, but of recognition. This was a place where truth could not be hidden.
The Alpha Room itself was large, rounded like a silent arena. The polished black stone floor reflected the soft white lights emanating from the runes carved into the walls. At the center, like a crystal heart within a ritualistic body, rested the Evaluation Orb—a frosted glass sphere over two meters tall, surrounded by delicate currents of enchanted silver that floated around its surface.
It pulsed slightly, as if breathing.
A group of evaluators watched from an elevated platform behind enchanted glass—their features hidden by mana masks, Association standards to prevent favoritism or retaliation. Next to the orb, a woman with an arcane tablet kept records. Her tone was practical, emotionless.
"One by one, approach, place your right hand on the Orb, and channel your natural mana. Do not try to exaggerate or hold back — the Orb measures raw affinity, control, and potential. Your new Rank will be determined based on this. If you try to manipulate the result, the punishment is immediate banishment."
An uncomfortable silence fell over group 12-A.
The first to approach was a man in light armor. He took a deep breath, placed his hand on the orb, and a yellowish light spread across the glass.
"Rank C," said the woman, without looking up.
The man sighed with relief and left.
One by one, people were called. Different lights appeared with each touch: soft greens, timid blues, hesitant golden tones. Ranks D, C, rarely a B. Some left smiling. Others, with their heads down.
Then Seth was called.
"Next: Seth Chambers. Previous rank: E."
He walked forward calmly, his boots making a dry sound against the polished floor. He stopped in front of the orb. He said nothing. He just stared at the sphere for a second, like someone recognizing an old enemy.
He placed his hand on it.
The glass, for a moment, did not react. It seemed to... hesitate.
And then it exploded into light.
It wasn't a color. It was a whirlwind of shadows and intense flashes, as if Seth's mana were not a simple emission, but a living entity, trying to escape its confinement. The orb shook. The floating chains began to squeak, the glyphs on the walls flashed in warning. The evaluator gasped and almost dropped her tablet.
From the hidden panel, someone whispered a security spell.
The orb, as if recognizing the level of threat, stabilized with one last violent pulse — and then, on the employee's tablet screen, a single word appeared in glowing letters:
[RANK-S]