[MC's POV]
Amidst the thought of the possibility of awakening some kind of cheat, I looked around.
All around me were children about the same height as me, each standing beside what seemed to be their mother, father, or both.
As I watched the warm sight of parents holding their children, a strange pain welled up inside me. Not physical pain—but something deep, something hollow.
If parents were supposed to be here…
Then why weren't mine?
It's my birthday today… or maybe birthdays, or even families, don't hold the same meaning on this planet.
My gaze lingered on the parents smiling proudly at their children. Then, my eyes caught a detail that had been glaring at me all this time—something I had tried to ignore, but couldn't anymore.
Almost every child present had golden hair. Some in lighter, some in deeper shades of gold, but all easily recognizable as "golden-haired."
And then there was me.
Red hair.
I stood out like a sore thumb among the radiant crowd.
I actually liked my hair… but this was one of those moments where even something beautiful felt like a curse.
---
Keeping up my childlike act, I turned my puppy eyes toward the maid who had brought me here.
She glanced down at me, and after a moment of hesitation, smiled softly.
She bent to one knee and spoke gently, "Don't worry, young master. Your parents are busy climbing the Tower. They'll come home soon."
I stared at her for a few seconds without saying a word, then turned my attention back to the man standing near the golden bowl in the center.
He was scanning everyone present—sharp, calm eyes sweeping through the hall. When his gaze reached me, it lingered for a few seconds before moving on.
---
After a few minutes, around a hundred children had gathered with their parents, including me and my maid.
The man near the golden bowl raised a brown staff—its top entwined with small branches like living vines.
He tapped it twice against the marble floor.
Clack! Clack!
The sound reverberated across the hall. Silence fell instantly.
My heartbeat quickened. What was this ceremony? What did it mean for me?
---
The man's voice rang out, clear and powerful.
"Welcome, everyone, to the Ceremony of Futures of the Ro'nark Family.
I will preside here as overseer and ensure this ceremony proceeds smoothly, so that we may identify the young sprouts who require guidance and care—those destined to become the pillars of the Ro'nark Family.
As I call each name, bring your child forward and let them dip their hands into this bowl. The assessment liquid will determine their potential and affinity."
Hearing the word potential instead of awakening finally made sense of everything.
For a while, I'd been wondering—how could awakening happen when most of us couldn't even speak yet?
---
One by one, parents led their children forward.
Small hands dipped into the shimmering liquid, and the overseer announced each child's potential and affinity.
Some parents smiled brightly, eyes full of pride.
Others… walked away in silence, disappointment heavy in their expressions.
After several turns, it was finally mine.
"Maximilian Ro'nark," the overseer called. "Step forward."
---
I walked calmly toward the platform, though inside, my thoughts were anything but calm.
The golden bowl shimmered faintly, filled with a fluid that looked like ordinary water. I reached out and dipped my small hands in.
The liquid rippled slightly—barely any reaction.
The overseer's eyes widened. He stared for a few seconds before speaking again, his tone now laced with disdain.
"Maximilian Ro'nark — very low potential, and no affinity."
---
Gasps echoed through the hall.
My mind went blank.
Wait, what? Low potential and no affinity? How can that be?
Murmurs started spreading, stabbing into my ears like whispers of venom.
"How can the 3rd heir of the Ro'nark Family be this pathetic?" one man sneered.
"Now we know why there was no celebration for his birth," another muttered.
"The Matriarch and Patriarch must have known he'd bring dishonor to the family," a woman said loudly. "That's why they didn't come to the ceremony!"
"He's a stain on the Ro'nark name," someone else added, voice dripping with contempt. "A stain on the entire family!"
Their words blended together into an ugly storm of mockery.
Nobody cared about the child standing frozen on the stage, dazed and silent.
---
I snapped out of my stupor and stepped down.
As I reached the bottom, the overseer's cold voice rang out again.
"Take this red-haired disappointment out of here. He's made history as the lowest-potential individual in the Ro'nark Family."
The maid who once smiled kindly at me now looked disgusted.
She stepped forward, grabbed my hand roughly, and dragged me away like I carried a curse.
"Why do I have to take care of this low-potential brat?" she muttered under her breath. "No affinity, no future. How's he supposed to compete with his siblings for Patriarch if he even survives the Genesis Program?"
---
I heard every word.
But I didn't react.
Because two things stood out in what she said—siblings and Genesis Program.
It was my first birthday.
Yet, instead of celebration, I was being crushed under the weight of words I shouldn't even hear.
If she had told me next that I wasn't the real son of the family, I might've believed her.
She shoved me into my room and left as if I were patient zero of some plague.
---
I sat down on my bed and took a few deep breaths.
Every taunt, every sneer, every venomous remark replayed in my mind.
They didn't hurt me deeply—but it still felt bitter.
Being hated for simply existing…
That's a pain you don't forget.
I sighed, leaned back on the bed, and let my mind go blank.
For today, I didn't want to think anymore.
Sleep claimed me soon after—
quiet, cold, and strangely peaceful.
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