Casting Hall C was quieter than Ban expected.
Not silent—nothing in Studio Twelve ever really was—but muted, like the building itself knew people were being judged here and decided to keep its voice down. The hallway lights were softer, the walls a darker shade of gray. Sound didn't echo the same way it did in the lobby.
Ban sat on a bench with his script resting on his knees, reading the same lines for what felt like the twentieth time.
They came out of nowhere…
He stopped himself and closed the script.
If he kept reading it, he was going to start sounding like he was reading it.
Across from him, Leo Park was pacing in small circles, hands moving as he quietly rehearsed. Every now and then, a faint icon flickered near his shoulder—some kind of Performer-class passive that reacted when he got into character.
"Man," Leo said suddenly, stopping. "Why does waiting feel worse than actually going in?"
Ban smiled a little. "Because once you're in, at least you're doing something."
"Fair," Leo said, then looked at Ban again. "You're weirdly calm, you know that?"
"I'm not," Ban said. "I'm just tired of being nervous."
Leo laughed at that. "Yeah… I get that."
The double doors at the end of the hall opened, and a woman stepped out with a polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Number thirty-four?"
A guy sitting near the wall stood up quickly, nodded, and went in.
The doors closed again.
A few minutes later, he came back out, staring at the floor.
Leo winced. "That bad, huh?"
The guy shrugged and walked away without answering.
Ban watched him go and tried not to imagine himself doing the same.
Out of habit, he called up his status window again.
[ Name: Brandon Allen Gallen ]
[ Level: 1 ]
[ Class: — Unawakened — ]
[ Status: Civilian ]
Nothing had changed.
He dismissed it.
"Still no magic miracles?" Leo asked, half-joking.
"Afraid not," Ban said.
"Hey, if you suddenly awaken right before going in, remember me when you're famous," Leo said with a grin.
"I'll put you in my first low-budget indie," Ban said dryly.
"Deal."
The light above the doors shifted from red to green.
"Number thirty-five. Ban Gallen."
That was him.
Ban stood, adjusted the strap of his backpack, and took a slow breath.
"Good luck," Leo said.
"You too," Ban replied, then walked toward the doors.
Inside, the room was bigger than he'd imagined but still felt… contained. A simple set filled most of the space: a cracked wall panel, a broken table, a chair tipped on its side. The kind of generic destruction you saw in dozens of dramas.
Three people sat behind a long desk.
Two of them had tablets. One didn't.
The one without the tablet was a man in a dark jacket with tired eyes and a posture that somehow made him look both relaxed and sharp at the same time. He was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, watching Ban like he was trying to see past him instead of at him.
"Name?" one of the casting staff asked.
"Ban," he said. "Brandon Allen Gallen."
"Whenever you're ready," the woman said, gesturing to a mark on the floor.
Ban walked to the mark and stopped.
For a second, he was very aware of his own breathing.
Then he looked at the set.
The broken table.
The cracked wall.
The empty chair.
And he let himself step into it.
"They came out of nowhere," Ban said quietly. "One second the street was loud, and the next… it was like everything went quiet. Like the world was holding its breath."
He didn't force his voice to shake.
He just let it be tired.
"I remember thinking… this is it. This is where I die. Not in some big fight. Not like the stories. Just… here. On a normal day."
His eyes focused on a point just past the desk, like he was looking at something that wasn't there anymore.
"I don't even remember running. I remember the sound. The way it echoed. And then… nothing. Just silence."
The room felt heavier.
Not because of any skill or effect.
Just because of the words.
When he finished, Ban stood there for a moment, then slowly let his shoulders relax.
"Thank you," the woman said. "You can take a breath."
Ban nodded and stepped back.
The man in the dark jacket leaned forward slightly.
"What class are you?" he asked.
"I'm unawakened," Ban said.
There was a brief pause.
The man studied him, eyes sharp but not unkind.
"…Interesting," he said.
He tapped a finger once on the desk, then looked at the woman beside him. "Have him wait outside for a moment."
Ban blinked. "Outside?"
"Yes," the woman said. "Just outside. We'll call you back in if we need you."
"Okay," Ban said, trying not to read too much into that, and left the room.
Out in the hallway, his legs felt a little weaker than he wanted to admit.
Leo looked up when he saw him. "That was fast. How'd it go?"
"I… don't know," Ban said honestly. "They told me to wait."
"That sounds… not terrible?" Leo said. "I think?"
Ban sat back down.
A few minutes passed.
Then ten.
Then fifteen.
Two more people went in and came out.
No one called his name.
He started to wonder if they'd just forgotten about him.
Then his vision flickered.
Just for a moment.
[ ANALYZING PERFORMANCE… ]
Ban froze.
"…What?"
The message vanished almost instantly, like it had never been there.
He opened his status window.
[ Name: Brandon Allen Gallen ]
[ Level: 1 ]
[ Class: — Unawakened — ]
[ Status: Civilian ]
Nothing had changed.
"Did you see that?" Ban asked, a little too quickly.
"See what?" Leo asked.
"…Nothing," Ban said.
A staff member stepped out and looked around. "Ban Gallen?"
"That's me," Ban said, standing up.
"Come back in, please."
He followed her inside.
The three were still there. The man in the dark jacket was leaning forward now, elbows on the desk.
"I'm Victor Hale," he said. "Casting director."
Ban nodded. "Nice to meet you."
Victor studied him for a moment, then said, "You didn't use any skills. No overlays. No emotional amplification. Correct?"
"I don't have any," Ban said. "I'm unawakened."
"That's not what I asked," Victor said calmly. "I asked if you used any."
Ban shook his head. "No."
Victor leaned back slightly.
"Interesting," he said again, this time with more weight.
One of the staff members frowned at her tablet. "We got a… minor System ping during your performance. Very faint. No error code. Just a background process."
Ban's stomach tightened. "Is… that bad?"
Victor looked at him, then smiled faintly.
"No," he said. "It's rare."
He stood up.
"Ban Gallen," Victor said, "I don't know what you are yet. But I want to see more."
Ban blinked. "You mean…?"
"You're not getting the lead," Victor said flatly. "But you're getting a callback. And that's more than most people in this room will get today."
Ban felt something warm and dangerous rise in his chest.
"Thank you," he said, quietly and honestly.
Victor nodded once. "Don't thank me yet. The industry doesn't reward 'interesting.' It tests it."
As Ban left the room, his status window flickered again.
So fast he almost missed it.
[ BACKGROUND PROCESS REGISTERED: OBSERVATION ]
He didn't see it.
But the System did.
And for the first time in 281 years, it wasn't just watching a class.
It was watching a person.