Malakai Apolix sat quietly on the edge of a weathered park bench, the late afternoon sun filtering through half-bloomed trees above. The year was 2020, and today marked his eighteenth birthday — the legal threshold for application to Nynxreach Institute, the most mysterious university on Earth.
A place where resonants trained, where minds stronger than most studied rifts, soulprints, and the laws that quietly governed all realms.
He had short, curly black hair that framed his face in gentle coils. His skin was like burnished bronze, smooth and sun-warmed, catching the light in a way that made him look painted — unreal.
Enjoying a synth cookie and some tea he finished them and stood up
Lighting a cigarette and walking with it in hand
Today was his last day of peace. His last day as just Malakai.
He exhales a puff of smoke.
'damn I wish they weren't expensive'
Tomorrow, he'd enter a world where sleep could kill, thought could wound, and the unseen was more dangerous than anything that bled.
He exhaled slowly. A breeze passed, light but intentional — it circled him, briefly curling the leaves by his feet in a spiral. Anyone else would've missed it.
But not Malakai.
He tilted his head.
"Still watching me, huh?"
There was no reply. But the air shifted again — like something graceful and formless had acknowledged him. His spiritual guardian, still unmanifested to others, made its quiet presence known.
Malakai meditates daily and in return he received a spiritual guardian.
He didn't smile. He didn't need to.
It would come when he was ready.
'I wonder when the next Sovereign pulse is.'
Malakai sighed, standing up from the bench, muscles stiff from sitting too long. He glanced around the cracked concrete edges of the park, eyes drawn to the overgrown hedges and rusted benches — not looking for serenity, but for shelter.
Something low. Out of view. Somewhere he wouldn't be disturbed.
He was homeless. Had been for a while.
Living in the slums meant navigating a broken world ruled by colors, turf, and whispered warnings. Gangs controlled the streets, and you learned to disappear if you wanted to survive.
Malakai didn't complain. He endured.
Thanks to the outreach program through Nynxreach Institute, he had a shot — one shot — to escape. Not into safety. Into something else. Something real.
He ducked under an old skybridge and pressed himself against the wall of a hollowed-out freight station. Cold metal kissed his back, but the angle blocked the wind.
'It'll do.'
Inside his worn-out backpack: a water bottle, a ration bar, and a slim slate with his name etched onto it — Malakai Apolix. His registration for monthly enrollment at Nynxreach. His ticket out.
Tomorrow was the trial. The dream. The selection.
It is known that the institute has a way to trigger Sovereign to initiate the trial.
'If I survive it... I'll finally matter.'
He closed his eyes. The hum of distant trains vibrated through the floor. And somewhere nearby — just out of view — a soft ripple stirred the air. His spiritual guardian, still formless, still silent, lingered in his shadow.
Malakai didn't speak to it. He didn't need to. It was always there.
'This is my last night out here,' he thought.
'Next time I open my eyes… I'll either be a Resonant. Or I won't wake up at all.'
Malakai spent the night under the bridge, curled up beneath a patchwork of tarps and scavenged insulation panels. He didn't sleep well — no one really did in the slums — but he stayed dry, warm enough, and, most importantly, clean.
Clean mattered.
No one at the academy would care if he was poor, but dirt was a marker. It gave people permission to dismiss you. He wasn't giving them that.
When morning came, he unfolded from his corner of concrete and steel, brushed the dust off his jeans, adjusted his tunic, and ran a hand through his curls to tame the wild ones. His fingers lingered over a crease on his collar — debating, then smoothing it down with practiced calm.
'Today's the day.'
His heart wasn't racing. He didn't feel fear. Just a steady hum — a pressure building behind his eyes, his chest, like the air was waiting with him.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked toward the rising skyline. Past broken fences and flickering streetlamps, past roads where the buses didn't run anymore, and finally onto the long path that curved toward the shimmering spires of Nynxreach Institute.
It sat at the edge of the world like it had always been there — an impossible structure of dark stone and living light, half-built on reality, half reaching into something else.
Malakai had spent the past year living in one of the old military quarantine checkpoints, a skeletal building of steel and torn canvas on the city's edge.
Ration cards were the only real currency there. He'd learned to stretch them — trade, bargain, survive.
And now, he stood among hundreds in the towering great hall of Nynxreach Academy.
The structure was raw and intentional — concrete pillars, exposed beams, and walls layered with thick, polished wood. It felt ancient and modern at the same time. Like a church built for something not quite human.
Students filled the benches, some wearing sleek uniforms, others in rugged citywear like him. Whispers echoed like insects, each face marked by nerves or arrogance.
Then, silence fell.
A tall man stepped onto the central platform — his coat dark, lined with a symbol resembling a split eye. His face was weathered, marred by half a dozen scars that hadn't healed clean. When he spoke, his voice didn't need to shout.
"Welcome to Nynxreach Academy," he said. "Some of you crawled your way here. Others were born with keys in your hands. Doesn't matter now."
His eyes scanned the crowd like a soldier measuring targets.
"This is a three-year path. Each year separates those who can resonate… from those who cannot."
He let that settle before continuing.
"If you make it to the end, you'll become something more. Researchers of the realms. Guides for the next generation. Or Resonants powerful enough to stand at the gates of rifts and push them closed."
A murmur passed through the crowd.
"We have developed technology that lets us simulate what used to be random awakenings. Dream Trials — accelerated, contained, and trackable."
He stepped forward, the floor creaking beneath his boots.
"Accession is the goal. But survival? That's the first requirement."
Then a slow, predatory smile broke across his face.
"Let's see how many of you wake up."
The speech was lackluster — at least, in Malakai's opinion. Too rehearsed, too hollow. If he'd been the one giving it, he'd have skipped the theatrics and simply said:
"Step forward if you want to challenge the dream. No one will save you. No one will follow you in."
After the assembly, Malakai was quietly separated from the group and led down a quieter hallway into a side office tucked behind a thick metal door.
The office was cluttered, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of synth-coffee. Papers were stacked like uneven towers, and the walls were plastered with soulprint charts and cross-realm hazard maps. At the desk sat a blonde woman with a sharp smile and a polished silver monocle that flicked light across her face as it scanned him.
"Ah, you must be the new recruit," she said without looking up. "Nice to meet you. I'm Natalie — I'll be handling your intake paperwork."
She finally glanced at him, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"But first… what do you know of the realms?"
Malakai scratched the back of his head, hesitant.
"Not much. Just that there's more than one, and that they aren't all friendly."
Natalie leaned back in her chair, tapping a pen against her lip.
"I figured as much. What about Sovereign?"
Malakai shifted his weight.
"Um… I know it's an AI that lives in the Nynx Plane and… that's about it."
"I see," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "Well, yeah. I hate it, personally. If I ever meet the bastard who tied that thing to the leywaves of Earth, I'd rip their eyes out and gift-wrap them for the underworld."
Before Malakai could respond, the door hissed open.
A tall young man stepped in, moving with casual precision. His black coat was spotless, and his face — completely unscarred — had a calmness that didn't belong to someone his age.
"Oh, Neo," Natalie said with a nod. "This is Malakai — new recruit. I'm guessing those are the documents?"
"Yes, ma'am," Neo said. He placed a small folder on the desk, gave Malakai a quick, unreadable glance infact his glance landed slightly behind Malakai and he had somewhat a shocked expression, and walked out without another word.
Malakai blinked. Cool. Mysterious. Definitely experienced.
"That was Neo," Natalie explained, sighing. "Enrolled a year ago. Made it through his trial on the first attempt. One of the few. You'll probably see him again."
She handed Malakai a slim digital slate.
"Here's your class schedule. But first — the dream trial."
She tilted her head.
"You sure you're ready? You don't have to do it right away. It's voluntary. Once you enter… there's no turning back."
Malakai didn't even hesitate. "I'm ready. I've been waiting."
Natalie raised an eyebrow, then smiled — a little less sharp than before.
"Alright then. Follow me."
She led him down a long corridor into a chamber of cold white light and humming energy. Dozens of dream induction capsules lined the walls like sarcophagi, each one fitted with neural interfaces, biometric locks, and soul-signal stabilizers.
While walking she starts talking about trials
"All dream trials are different you could fight monsters, constructs of your future self or even something as simple as fighting a pack of wolves, just know that Sovereign reacts to how to fight and makes burdens and boons that fit your personality, so based on the terrain you can assume what the challenge will be, if it's in a forest it's probably monsters if it's an arena then your fighting either yourself or someone else. Sovereign rarely makes you fight other real humans but I wouldn't put it past him."
Malakai just nods understandingly
"Here we are."
Malakai approached the one prepared for him. It opened with a hiss.
He stepped inside, heart steady. His fingers touched the side of the capsule as he lay down. The hatch sealed with a soft click, and darkness folded around him like a second skin.
A pulse — low and deep — echoed inside his skull.
[Sovereign link established.]
[Dream Trial initializing...]
And then the world was gone.