[MC's POV]
After I left the training area, I went back to my quarters.
In the silence of my room, I sat down for a moment, then laughed bitterly at my situation.
My little brother—someone who hadn't even seen me yet—wanted to humiliate me at our first meeting.
I sighed and chalked the event up to my cursed luck. Bad luck and I… we were old friends by now.
After Nolan's little "humiliation," he never confronted me again. But the backlash from the family made sure I understood my place.
The quantity and quality of my food decreased even further—something I didn't think was possible. I remembered all those jokes about hostel food, but now… I was living them. And it wasn't funny at all.
The atmosphere of the program turned even more hostile toward me. But I had to endure it for at least five more years.
I learned to shield my mind, focusing on swordsmanship and scraps of knowledge about the Tower. Yet, the toll on my body was undeniable.
I had grown weaker than when I entered the program, but in exchange, I had gained skills, technique, and knowledge. My strength declined, but my sword grew sharper.
---
Five years passed.
Five long, suffocating years.
Some tried to cozy up to me, hoping to gain favor with my brother. I refused most, tolerated a few.
I might've been physically weaker than the average trainee, but my sword skills were unmatched. Even instructors came to "learn" from me—until I demanded payment in the form of rare books or extra rations. Then they quickly lost interest.
So, my hellish life continued.
---
At last, the fifth year came to an end.
All twelve-year-olds, including me, were gathered to head toward the Tower's entrance.
The lines stretched endlessly—more than twenty of them—filled with humans and other races.
It was my first time outside in twelve years, and the world before me… it no longer resembled Earth.
The architecture, the sky, even the vegetation—none of it matched what I remembered.
---
In one line stood the Elves—otherworldly beauty, long ears, graceful forms, and armor that gleamed under the sun.
A feast for the eyes after years trapped in a dorm full of boys.
The second line held Titans—tall, elegant, and regal. Not the hulking brutes I had imagined, but beings of culture and power.
The third was for Demons—bewitching, dangerous, some bearing horns, tails, or strange appendages that marked their lineage.
A few meters away, I noticed those with markings under their eyes or on their hands.
Spirit Folk.
Some had ethereal companions beside them, others bore the signs of elemental bonds.
There were also Beastfolk—few in number, but diverse in form and aura.
The Ro'nark Family's vehicle drew a few glances, but attention soon faded. Everyone was too focused on their own awakening to care.
I joined the line, still lost in the spectacle of the many races before turning my eyes toward the Tower.
And what I saw stole my breath.
---
The Tower's height reached the stratosphere—yet inside, it was said to be limitless.
Its outer surface shimmered with black and white layers, streaked with gold and shifting hues of color.
Abstract. Unreal. Beautiful.
It looked like a chaotic piece of modern art—botched yet strangely divine.
---
After waiting nearly half an hour, my turn came.
The instructors had explained what would happen:
"The Tower scans your body. It infuses high-purity mana, initiating the Awakening. If your body can withstand it, you might unlock a Talent, or even awaken an Innate Ability, Physique, or Bloodline. But such miracles… depend on luck."
I stepped through the bluish, glowing gate.
A wave of ethereal sensation washed over me. My body felt weightless, the fatigue of years momentarily erased.
Then, before me, a transparent blue screen appeared.
---
[Player detected…]
[Scanning the body for awakening…]
A moment of silence. Then—
[ERROR!!]
[ERROR!!]
[ERROR!!]
[The Player's physical condition is not suitable for awakening.]
[Awakening stopped…]
[Expelling the Player.]
---
"No… No, no, no—!"
Panic surged as I read the words.
I was ejected from the Tower—thrown out like garbage.
And then—
I was outside.
Thrown out.
Ejected like a broken tool.
I stood there in silence, surrounded by thousands of staring eyes.
The crowd fell silent for a heartbeat.
Then came the laughter.
---
"Did you see that? He got kicked out before even awakening!"
"How pathetic… even the Tower rejected him!"
"A Ro'nark, huh? Guess blood doesn't make you special after all."
"He should've stayed in the kitchen with the servants instead of coming here."
Their words pierced deeper than any sword.
The other trainees pointed and laughed, some pretending to shield their eyes dramatically as if my presence was an embarrassment.
Even the mentors, the ones who were supposed to guide us, smirked among themselves.
"I warned them about weak bodies," one said.
"That's what happens when you feed a kid table scraps for years," another muttered, chuckling.
"A failure born from failure. Fitting for the 'stain of Ro'nark,'" someone added, loud enough for everyone to hear.
The laughter spread like wildfire.
I stood motionless—humiliated, hollow.
Twelve years of suffering, of being mocked, beaten, starved… all endured for the dream of power.
And now, even that dream had turned its back on me.
The one chance to gain power… gone.
---
Over the last few years, I had noticed my body weakening, but this?
To be too weak to awaken?
I had no words.
For the first time since my rebirth, I wondered if dying back then might've been better. At least the dead don't have to live a dead life.
---
I lowered my head and walked toward the vehicle that brought us here.
My thoughts were a mess. My heart felt hollow.
As I reached the vehicle, the man in charge—our so-called handler—stepped forward and pulled my katana from my side.
It was the only weapon we were given in the Genesis Program.
He smirked and said mockingly,
"Nobody cares for you. Even the Tower denied you—something that's never happened in all of history. You better get lost. I'll just report that you ran away after your spectacular failure."
Then he laughed. A cruel, unhinged laugh that made my blood boil.
---
After everything—the betrayal, the neglect, the humiliation—I had endured it all.
They had cut my rations, discarded me, and made me the family's disgrace.
And now this lowly dog dared mock me to my face.
I was on the verge of losing control, ready to unleash my fury regardless of consequence.
But then…
Before my eyes, that same screen flickered to life once more.
The same screen that had rejected me moments ago.
And it displayed a single message.
---
[Grow stronger and come back for your incomplete awakening.]
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[AN :- I tried to correct my grammar as much as possible, please do let me know the results in future chapter.]