Ethan Cross sat on the edge of his dorm bed, staring at the ceiling. The faint bruises on his arms and torso ached dully, a reminder of his earlier sparring match with Kevin Reed. He had landed one clean hit, but in the end, it hadn't mattered. Strength ruled this world, and he was still at the bottom.
In a world where Awakeners were the rulers of society, power was everything. Those born with talent were destined for greatness, while the weak were cast aside. And Ethan? He had nothing—no mana, no skills, nothing but his own perseverance and a passive ability that the world saw as a joke.
But Ethan had learned to survive in this cruel world. It was a world where humans lived far beyond their natural lifespan, their bodies enhanced by dungeons and the systems they were born with.
The World of Awakeners
The world had changed centuries ago. No one knew exactly when, but humanity evolved into something greater. Every child, upon reaching a certain age, awakened and gained a personal system—an invisible yet intrinsic part of their being. The system was more than just a tool; it was an extension of one's own soul, governing their stats, abilities, and growth.
It was this system that determined a person's potential in life.
The strongest Awakeners gained abilities that bent the very laws of nature. Some could summon flames that melted steel, while others could regenerate from mortal wounds in seconds. Their lifespan extended far beyond normal humans, allowing them to live for hundreds, even thousands of years.
The truly elite—S-Rank Awakeners—were considered immortal by normal standards, their bodies nearly indestructible. However, life was not eternal. Even the strongest needed to extend their existence through dungeon loot, magical relics, and forbidden elixirs.
Those who could not fight, who could not grow stronger, were doomed to a short and miserable existence.
Ethan clenched his fists.
He had zero mana. That meant he was stuck at F-Rank, the lowest possible classification. No matter how much he trained, his system would never allow him to rank up through conventional means.
The world had already decided his fate. But Ethan refused to accept it.
The Weight of Reality
The next morning, Ethan made his way through the academy halls, ignoring the stares and whispers. He was used to it by now. His awakening test had been public, and everyone knew about his humiliating result.
"Hey, Cross," a familiar voice called out.
Ethan stopped but didn't turn around. He already knew who it was. Logan Pierce, the same B-Rank who had bullied him the day before, approached with his usual smirk. His lackeys stood beside him, ready to entertain themselves at Ethan's expense.
"How does it feel?" Logan continued, his tone dripping with amusement. "Knowing that no matter how hard you train, you'll never catch up to us?"
Ethan exhaled slowly. He had no interest in fighting a battle he couldn't win—yet.
"Not in the mood, Logan."
Logan chuckled. "Not in the mood? You talk as if you actually have a choice."
Before Ethan could react, a fist slammed into his gut. The impact was harsh but controlled, just enough to make Ethan stagger without knocking him out. Logan liked to toy with his prey first.
Ethan gritted his teeth as he straightened himself. He could already feel his ability, Never Give Up, activating in the back of his mind, reinforcing his will to stand.
"Tch." Logan clicked his tongue in annoyance. "You're still standing? What a stubborn loser."
Ethan didn't reply. He had learned that responding would only encourage them.
Another punch came, this time across his jaw. Pain flared, but Ethan refused to go down. He had suffered worse before. He had lived on the streets, starved for days, endured the cruelty of the world long before he stepped foot in the academy. This was nothing.
Logan narrowed his eyes. "Damn, it's not even fun if you don't scream."
He raised his fist again—
"Enough."
A new voice rang through the hallway, cold and authoritative. The crowd that had gathered around the scene immediately quieted down.
A tall figure walked forward, his piercing blue eyes scanning the situation with distaste. Professor Alden, one of the academy's combat instructors.
"What is going on here?" Alden's voice was sharp.
Logan immediately stepped back, putting on his best innocent expression. "Nothing, Professor. Just teaching Cross a lesson about knowing his place."
Alden's gaze flickered to Ethan, who wiped the blood from his lips but said nothing. The instructor sighed. "Pierce, if you have that much energy to waste, perhaps I should increase your training load?"
Logan stiffened slightly. "N-No, sir."
"Then get out of my sight."
Logan clicked his tongue but obeyed, leaving with his lackeys. The crowd dispersed just as quickly, eager to avoid the instructor's wrath.
Alden turned to Ethan. "Cross, are you alright?"
Ethan nodded. "I'm fine."
The instructor studied him for a moment before shaking his head. "You're stubborn, I'll give you that."
With that, he walked away, leaving Ethan alone once more.
A Different Path
That night, Ethan resumed his training.
He had no mana. No skills. No rank. But he had his body. And he would sharpen it into a weapon.
He ran—his feet pounding against the ground as he pushed himself beyond exhaustion. He lifted weights until his muscles screamed in protest. He practiced combat techniques, repeating them over and over until his movements became second nature.
And through it all, his passive ability whispered in his mind.
Never Give Up.
It didn't make him stronger. It didn't heal his wounds. But it did something just as important.
It kept him moving forward.
As he collapsed onto the ground, his vision swimming with exhaustion, a notification appeared before his eyes. A system screen only he could see.
Passive Ability: Never Give UpProgress: 2%
Ethan stared at it, a slow smile forming on his lips.
The world thought he was weak.
But they had no idea what was coming.