Only a day remained until the tournament started, and Nova was nervous.
Not the ordinary sort of nervousness that passed once he found something else to think about. This was the gut-twisting, overthinking-everything kind, where his mind refused to settle and his hands seemed to have forgotten how to be useful. He had spent the past several days preparing for the tournament, yet now that it was almost here, he found himself wondering whether he had prepared enough.
It felt like someone had told an introvert to sing alone on a stage in front of a thousand people. And, unfortunately for Nova, he was that introvert.
He had trained, pushed his body, and repeated the same exercises until his muscles could hardly bear another repetition. His strength and endurance had improved, but there was no denying the difference between him and an awakened Adventurer. He still had no ability of his own.
What if I lose in the first round? he wondered, staring at the ceiling. After everything I've done, that would be embarrassing.
Fortunately, he wasn't alone.
All five kittens were lying on his chest, snuggling together in a warm, wiggly pile. They were only about two weeks old, still tiny enough to fit comfortably against him and still figuring out what their paws were supposed to do. Their eyes had opened, although they remained cloudy, and most of their time was spent searching for food or attempting to climb over one another.
One of them stretched its front paws, opened its mouth in a ridiculous little yawn, and settled down again. Another pressed its nose against his hoodie as though expecting milk to appear from the fabric. Smudge, the black kitten with white paws, tried to crawl across his chest, only to lose its balance and roll against its siblings.
Nova laughed quietly.
"You lot have no idea what's going on, do you?"
The kittens offered no answer. One squeaked. Another hiccupped, which somehow made the entire pile move as the others adjusted themselves. Their floppy ears twitched at sounds Nova could barely hear, and the warmth of their little bodies gradually made the tension in his shoulders ease.
He had never expected something so small to affect him this much. In Heaven, he had watched stars form, galaxies collapse, and civilizations rise over countless generations. Yet here he was, lying perfectly still because five kittens had decided that his chest was the most comfortable place in the apartment.
For a while, he simply watched them breathe. Their movements were clumsy, their awareness of the world still limited, and they relied on him for almost everything. The thought reminded him of why he had been training in the first place. Winning the tournament meant more than proving he could compete without his divinity. He needed money, a stable life, and a way to look after the little creatures that had somehow become his responsibility.
Slowly, his nervousness faded, replaced by a familiar spark of determination.
"All right," he murmured. "I'll do my best tomorrow. For myself and for you five."
He leaned down and kissed each kitten on the head. None of them understood what the gesture meant. Smudge looked mildly offended at being disturbed, while the others continued existing in their own sleepy little world.
Nova smiled, then carefully lifted them from his chest and placed them together on the bed. Before leaving, he arranged pillows along the floor beside it, covering the space where one of the kittens might tumble if it crawled too far. He checked the arrangement twice, imagining every possible direction in which a determined kitten might wander.
"There. That should keep you out of trouble. At least until I get back."
He wasn't entirely convinced, but there wasn't much more he could do without building a fortress around the bed.
Once they were comfortable, Nova washed up, changed his clothes, and got ready. His crimson-red eyes caught the early sunlight as he passed the mirror. He paused briefly to study his reflection, noticing how different he looked from the god who had first arrived on Earth.
He was still eighteen in this mortal life, still unawakened, and still learning things that most people around him took for granted. But his body was stronger now, and the cuts across his knuckles were a reminder of how much effort he had put into reaching even this point.
I should find out more about the tournament while I still have time.
The American Guild seemed like the best place to ask. It was only about ten minutes away, and getting information directly from the people organizing the event sounded more reliable than searching through announcements and hoping he understood everything correctly.
Nova left the apartment and made his way onto the street.
Boston was coming to life. Shop owners were unlocking doors, vendors were putting up stalls, and people hurried toward their offices. Some walked dogs that seemed far more interested in the smells along the street than in their owners' schedules. Others jogged or carried coffee as they rushed to work.
Even a few awakened individuals were showing off their abilities to entertain the passing crowd. Nova noticed a brief flash of light near one gathering of onlookers, followed by a burst of laughter and applause. He slowed down for a moment, curious, before continuing on his way.
A few minutes later, the American Guild came into view.
It was huge. Stupidly huge.
The building stood over the surrounding streets with the kind of presence that made a person feel like an ant standing before a rogue planet. Its front was constructed from dark stone, with sharp architectural edges and thick glass windows that reflected the movement of the city. Nova tilted his head back, following the structure upward before returning his attention to the entrance.
Flags bearing the guild's symbol fluttered in the wind. The emblem depicted an eagle holding a gun, an unusual combination that Nova had noticed on the tournament announcements but had never examined so closely.
Large metal doors stood at the entrance, their surfaces marked with intricate symbols. One of them had a considerable dent near its center, as though someone had attempted to punch through it and nearly succeeded. Nova stopped to examine the damage before looking toward the guards stationed nearby.
They didn't resemble the ordinary security personnel he had seen outside shops. Their equipment looked closer to military gear, although the weapons and armor worn by some of them made the whole group seem halfway between soldiers and Adventurers preparing for a dungeon.
One guard carried a glowing spear. Nova wondered whether the light was merely decorative or whether the weapon was connected to the man's awakened ability. The spear certainly looked capable of doing more than poking someone who tried to sneak inside.
None of the guards stopped him, so he walked through the entrance and into the lobby.
The interior was no less impressive. Adventurers in cloaks and armor moved through the spacious hall, some talking with their companions, others arguing over what sounded like mission details. A few stood alone near the walls, their expressions so serious that Nova almost wondered whether brooding was a requirement for guild membership.
The air carried a faint mixture of metal, leather, and strong coffee. Beyond the entrance, the reception area opened into a richly decorated lounge, with vaulted ceilings, dark polished wood, and golden chandeliers spreading a warm glow over the polished floor. After the harsh brightness outside, the atmosphere felt surprisingly comfortable, as though the guild wanted returning Adventurers to forget about their dangerous journeys for a little while.
Nova looked around, impressed by the decor, then searched for somewhere he could ask about the tournament. Unfortunately, every obvious source of assistance appeared to be located behind a reception counter, and every counter had a line.
He chose one of the shorter lines, which still had around twenty to thirty people waiting ahead of him. After several minutes without moving more than a step or two, he sighed and folded his arms.
While he waited, Nova began observing the Adventurers around him. Some carried weapons openly, while others wore armor marked by scratches and repairs. Every so often, he caught sight of a Circle of Pillars manifesting near someone's hand.
A few Adventurers possessed four or five pillars, which Nova understood to correspond to C-to-B-rank levels of strength. Most looked to be in their twenties or thirties, with several appearing older. He noticed others whose Circles included crosses and two vertical pillars, signs of advancement beyond what he had managed to achieve.
So it really does take time, he thought.
If a person needed decades to reach those stages, then his own goal suddenly looked much further away. He had arrived on Earth at eighteen. By that comparison, he might be looking at another twenty years before reaching the same level, perhaps more.
The thought wasn't encouraging, but he refused to accept it as his future. He hadn't abandoned the comfort of Heaven and placed restrictions upon himself merely to spend the rest of his mortal life assuming that everyone else's pace had to be his own.
Twenty-two years? No. I'm not waiting that long, he decided.
Nearly ten minutes passed before the line began moving at a more reasonable pace. Nova stepped forward with the others, but a distant muttering from the line to his right caught his attention.
There were four boys standing together. Or rather, three boys had surrounded a fourth.
The three looked as though they belonged to the same group. They were close to Nova's age, and their manner suggested that they were completely comfortable drawing attention to themselves. The fourth boy stood between them with his shoulders drawn inward, wearing glasses and avoiding their eyes. He looked as though he wanted to be anywhere else.
At first, Nova thought they might simply be arguing. Then one of the three draped an arm around the boy's neck and pulled him closer, grinning in a way that made his intentions clear.
The boy with glasses stiffened. His hands hovered uncertainly near the arm around his shoulders, but he made no attempt to push it away.
The muttering grew louder. People nearby glanced toward the group before turning away again. Some appeared to recognize the boy doing most of the talking, although Nova had no idea who he was or why everyone seemed so willing to ignore him.
"You know, you've been a bitch lately. We keep telling you we want something, and you just ignore us. Why is that? Huh, fuckface?"
Nova's expression hardened.
He didn't like the way they were speaking to the boy. He liked it even less that they seemed to enjoy frightening him. The boy with glasses kept his head lowered, clearly struggling to find an answer that wouldn't make things worse.
For a moment, Nova considered stepping out of line and telling the three to leave him alone.
There were three of them, and he didn't know whether any possessed an awakened ability. He had become stronger, but he had no reason to assume he would win against several opponents, especially in the guild lobby. More importantly, the tournament was tomorrow. Getting injured or thrown out would ruin everything he had worked toward.
He thought of the kittens asleep in his apartment, of the money he still needed to earn, and of the promise he had made to himself when he chose to live as a mortal.
He didn't want to walk away. But he also couldn't afford to make a reckless decision simply because he was angry.
Nova remained in line, keeping the group within sight. He listened to their conversation as carefully as he could, watching the boy with glasses and the arm still resting around his neck.
For now, he watched silently, waiting to see whether the three boys would leave him alone or make things worse.