"Why, why, why, why, why! Why does this have to happen to me,me of all people! What have I done to deserve this fate?"
A young man who seemed to be in his late teens yelled as he smashed his fist against the tree bark. He bore the features of white, glittery hair that reflected the rays of the sun peering through the canopies of the massive, ten-meter-tall trees.
The wind whistled through the silent forest, creating what should have been a cool and captivating vibe as the sounds of birds chirping blended into the afternoon warmth. And yet, this boy, dressed in quite simple attire—a white buttoned shirt with black trousers—looking nothing out of the ordinary. With his skin covered with dirt, and his clothes crumpled and in the same miserable state. Yet his fair complexion still being visible under all the grime, stood with his head leaning against a tree, a clenched fist serving as the only comfortable pillow as it wedged between his head and the hard tree bark, and In his hand was what seemed to be a plain pair of lenses.
With his head leaning downward, as if trying to rest or observe something, yet the small groans and the tears that flowed down his cheeks being a testament to the grief he was trying to hide. His left hand looked in a worse state than the rest of his body, as blood trickled from it—cuts and splinters visible, with pieces of tree bark noticeably piercing it.
Yet he continued striking his fist against the tree, seemingly unaware of the damage he was causing himself, as in that moment, his senses had numbed.
"Why, why, why, why, why?" he kept repeating, with each word, smashing his already injured fist against the hard tree bark. His tone conveyed the mixed feelings he harbored—a mixture of sadness, anger, confusion, and dread—visible on his face as he bit his lips, blood trickling from his mouth as well.
The thoughts that flooded his mind in that moment were memories of the terrible fate that had befallen him: the betrayal, the feeling of being abandoned and thrown away like garbage. Memories of him going to take his aptitude test.
As a boy who had been born into a family of researchers, learning and studying the rifts his entire life, he was more than confident he would finally and officially join his family's hurdles and strides for knowledge as he walked through a large gate with a crowd of about twenty-five people who seemed to be around the same age as him.All dressed in the same uniform as him, adorned with a pendant that bore what seemed to be an emblem: the school crest, a symbol of the rift with a sword crossed against it. They also wore black ties that complemented their shirts. The girls dressed the same way, yet wore short skirts that covered enough instead of trousers.
They muttered and conversed amongst themselves, each and every one fueled with anticipation of the aptitude they would awaken. Even though he hailed from a well-distinguished family with class and status, to his classmates he was just an ordinary guy, blending in and enjoying to the fullest what seemed to be the last moment their class would spend together as a class—even though all of them harbored a hint of anxiety in their hearts.
After this aptitude test, they would be divided into three groups: researchers, supporters, and adventurers—all different types of players that a person could become.
After decades of research, mostly contributed by his family, humanity had figured out a way to estimate and rank players according to what they termed "the calling to the gate," which was basically the influence the rift had on a person. Since the rifts appeared, they had been constantly releasing mana onto the earth, and not long after, everyone had evolved into a player.
Yet not everyone could survive in the rifts; it all depended on the capacity one's body had for mana. The greater one's capacity, the higher his chance of survival. There were also those who had a very low aptitude for mana—people who could survive in the harsh earthly environment but would die in less than a month if they were to enter or even be overly exposed to the rifts.
These people stayed behind on Earth and studied the rift from a safer angle—they became the researcher class. The supporter class were people who had enough aptitude for mana but weren't blessed enough to hold a candle against the monsterous beasts that dwelled within. Their main task was to extract the resources of the rifts for humanity's benefit, working hand in hand with the researchers.
Finally, the adventurers—those who fought the monsters of the rift and explored unknown territory. The strongest breed of humanity.
Everyone who passed the aptitude test was given a unique system, one that manifested from the player's mind and soul to aid him. Each one was unique and adaptable, growing at the same pace as the player.
All this and more was knowledge he had gained from the years he'd spent as a proud member of the Logya family.
As such, accompanied by his classmates, they entered through another door that led into the testing hall. The shimmering radiance of the light that brightened the hall was enough to make all the students squint their eyes. As their vision adapted to the intensity of the room, they were met with a crowd of spectators—family, friends, teachers, and honored figures such as guild leaders from within the rifts, who came to scout talent to join their guilds.
The crowd was silent—not what one would expect—as everyone seated there was flushed with too much anticipation and anxiety to cheer. Others sat with confidence, presuming they already knew the outcome of the test.
The room was more or less like a colosseum, with the seats arranged as such, every inch lit by what seemed to be magic stones neatly embedded in the ceiling, making the ceiling itself resemble the sun.
Stretching about fifteen meters high and twenty square meters wide, it looked as if a whole city was seated within. At the center was a platform where several crystal orbs were arranged in three rows. Only after one had completed all rows would the person be called a player. But if misfortune struck and even one rejected the person, he or she was termed a failure and cast into the rift as a sacrificial lamb to perish.
This was the culture and the cruelty that mankind had adopted.