Lucas sat on the edge of the hospital bed, already dressed in the clothes someone had dropped off for him—plain black shirt, worn jeans, and a thin jacket. Everything felt a little loose. He'd lost weight.
The sheets were folded at his back. The room smelled of antiseptic and recycled air.
A soft knock came from the door.
A nurse stepped in with a small cardboard box in her hands. "Almost ready?" she asked with a polite smile.
Lucas gave a short nod.
She walked over and set the box on the nightstand. "Your personal effects. You didn't have much on you when they brought you in. Just this."
She opened the box and carefully took out a pocket watch—old, silver, scratched around the edges, but still ticking faintly.
Lucas's eyes locked onto it.
She hesitated for a second, then placed it gently into his hand.
"No idea how it's still working, but… it was running when they found you."
He didn't answer.
He just stared at it.
The cover was slightly dented, the chain dulled with time. He popped it open. Inside, the second hand twitched in slow, steady beats.
Just like it had when his father gave it to him.
Before the Rift.
Before everything.
He closed it and slipped it into his jacket pocket without a word.
The nurse handed him a clipboard with a release form. "Sign here and you're free to go."
Lucas scribbled his name. No last name. Just Lucas.
She gave him a short nod, took the form, and left the room.
He stood up slowly.
Walked to the door.
Paused.
Took one last look at the bed.
And walked out.
The sky outside was colorless.
Clouds hung low over the city, casting everything in a dull gray sheen. People moved with purpose along the sidewalks, heads down, coats tight against the wind. Neon signs flickered on steel walls, humming quietly behind tinted glass.
Lucas walked without hurry.
His destination wasn't far—just a few blocks east of the hospital. A government facility wedged between two glass towers, as forgettable as any bureaucratic building.
He stood at the entrance, staring up at the frosted lettering over the glass doors:
DEPARTMENT OF AWAKENED CITIZEN REGISTRATION
Not exactly subtle.
He stepped inside.
The interior was clean, sterile. Gray floors, pale walls. Holographic panels flickered above rows of desks, each with young Awakeneds lined up for interviews or processing. Most of them were with someone—parents, handlers, trainers.
Lucas was alone.
He moved through the security gate, passed a bored guard who barely looked up, and approached the main desk.
A woman with sharp eyes and a clipboard glanced up at him. "Name?"
"Lucas," he said.
"Just Lucas?"
"Yeah."
She tapped something, then pointed. "Booth Twelve. You're here for first-time registration and soul confirmation, right?"
He nodded.
She gestured him forward.
The hallway was quiet. The carpet muffled his steps. At the end, a glass door slid open with a soft chime.
Inside waited a sterile white room and a single device hovering over a black pedestal—shaped like a floating crystal, humming faintly, waiting to read what he really was.
The door slid shut behind him with a soft hiss.
The room was silent. Empty. Just white walls, white floor, and in the center—a black pedestal with a floating crystal above it. The crystal pulsed faintly, hovering in place, rotating slowly. Each pulse seemed to echo in the air, like a slow heartbeat.
Lucas stepped forward.
A woman in uniform stood beside the wall. Mid-thirties. Neutral expression. Holding a tablet.
"Lucas, correct?" she asked without looking up.
He nodded.
She gestured toward the pedestal. "This is a soul resonance reader. It's used to register your presence in The Crucible's Awakened system and assign you a Soul Rank based on your current strength. The class itself remains hidden unless voluntarily disclosed."
He said nothing.
The woman continued. "Place your dominant hand above the crystal and allow your soul to project. No need to force anything—it will synchronize automatically."
Lucas approached the pedestal.
The crystal seemed to recognize him already.
It vibrated slightly, as if hungry.
He raised his right hand slowly… and hovered it over the glowing shard.
A warmth traveled up his fingers.
Then heat.
Then cold.
He closed his eyes.
Felt the pulse of something stir inside him.
The throne. The blood. The name Thanatos.
But he shut it down.
He focused on silence. On limitation. On restraint.
He let only a whisper of his soul slip forward—just enough to be read, but not enough to show anything real.
The crystal flared once.
Dim. Unimpressive.
Then stabilized into a faint, flickering blue.
The woman tapped her tablet.
"Registration complete."
The crystal dimmed.
Its glow faded back to a dull pulse—no longer scanning, no longer curious.
The woman looked at her screen, lips barely moving as she read.
[Soul Rank: Flickering Soul]
She nodded to herself and looked up at him. "You're registered. Flickering Soul—entry-level, very common for first awakenings. Nothing to worry about."
Lucas gave a small nod.
Inside, he wanted to laugh.
'Flickering.'
Sure.
The tablet in her hands beeped once. A panel on the wall behind her opened, and a slim card slid out—black with silver edges, glowing with the faint blue crest of the Awakened Authority.
She handed it to him.
Name: Lucas
ID: 8C47-00011
Soul Rank: Flickering
Class: Not Declared
Status: Licensed Awakened
Access: Crossworld Portals, Basic Contracts, Government Travel Grid
"Keep this on you at all times," she said flatly. "You'll need it to access any official gate, equipment requisition, or mission board—both in the city and in Crucible. Replacement cost is steep."
Lucas turned the card in his hand.
It was surprisingly heavy.
Real.
"You're good to go," she added. "No further testing required unless your rank changes in the future."
He slipped the card into his jacket.
No further questions.
No suspicion.
Exactly how he wanted it.
The cold air hit him the moment the doors slid open.
Lucas stepped out into the street, blending into the crowd with practiced ease. People passed by without a second glance—citizens, tourists, young Awakeneds laughing with their sponsors.
He walked alone.
The government building loomed behind him like a memory already fading.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out the pocket watch.
It ticked softly in his palm. Still working.
He stared at it for a long second before slipping it back into his pocket.
Then, he touched the other side—where the new Awakened license rested. Warm against his ribs. Proof of who he was now.
He looked up at the skyline.
The clouds had parted slightly, letting a pale stripe of sunlight fall across the city's rooftops. Wind carried the distant sound of horns and airships overhead.
Everything looked normal.
But nothing was.
Not anymore.
Lucas turned, hands in his pockets, and began to walk. No destination. Not yet.
But the path ahead was clear.
'Now I can go back. For real this time.'