A wooden table set for dinner stood at the center of what was an ordinary family conversation.
A father, 51 years old: slightly balding, with black hair and sincere brown eyes capable of gentle authority. His once-athletic build had softened with age.A mother, slightly younger than her husband, with a kind face. Subtle expression lines framed her eyes and mouth—traces of a life spent smiling.At the last seat sat a young boy with dark hair, almost onyx-colored, his gaze filled with curiosity and doubt, or perhaps only amber eyes reflecting both. Between bites, his thoughts were interrupted by his father.
"Seran, I can see something is occupying your mind. Perhaps it's your constant lateness… or something more?" Victor Delora said, turning his full attention to his only son.
"Dad… it's just that in a month I'll have to decide what my life will become, and I don't really know what I want. And when that day comes, I'll barely be eighteen… just a kid," Seran replied.
"Dear, don't worry. Just follow your instincts and your will," added the only female voice in the house. Sophia Delora tried to comfort her son, gently holding his right hand.
After dinner, the boy—full of thoughts—went to his room, trying to distract himself on his computer.
Browsing the social network MANAGRAM, he read posts with headlines such as:
"The Flaco team wipes out a swarm of Evox led by a Tier-3."
"New MANA Stone mine discovered in the Suet region—possible conflict between Raider Agencies and the local government?"
"Dr. Ferdinas nominated for the TECH Award of the Year for his research on mana condensers."
However, scrolling through the news did little to help. It only postponed a decision that would define the kind of life he would lead.
On one side, a traditional path: complete his studies and find a job like his parents had—modest lives, but peaceful and comfortable.
On the other, an endless path—still not fully explored even by the most experienced TOWERs—offering infinite potential for power and ascent, but filled with danger and uncertainty.
Tired from the day, Seran lay in bed, wondering to himself how worth it it was to become a TOWER in a nation where individuals could erase entire cities and regions in under five minutes. What was the point of aiming to become a Floor 6, when the entire continent was still divided by regions infested with EVOX, forcing four nations to constantly defend themselves from monstrous attacks?
But his thoughts came to an end as sleep finally overcame him.
After a weekend of rest and leisure, Monday arrived.
Late as always, Seran entered the classroom—only to find it empty.
"Damn it… Monday is training day at the North Field."
Passing through the various sections of the Institute, he finally spotted his class running around the athletic track, their rhythm coordinated by the piercing whistle of Ricant, dressed in his beloved navy-blue uniform—always spotless and perfectly ironed.
"Stop. Five minutes to recover your breath, then prepare for hand-to-hand combat. Delora will assist me in today's demonstration."
A laughter filled with amusement erupted from the group—Regis was the source.
"HAAHAHAHA! You never disappoint me, my friend!"
Meanwhile, Seran's hopes of escaping punishment quietly vanished to hell. Sighing, he began warming up as best as he could.
"Today I will show you what proper use of MANA entails—not only when it exists within us, but also how it can be guided," Ricant said, pointing toward a shield.
"Delora, you will position yourself behind the shield, kindly provided by the Ferrum manufacturing company. Stabilize your torso and legs, and prepare for impact."
Seran turned pale. With slow steps, he moved into position, spreading his legs and tightening his core muscles to absorb the blow. His eyes, fearful yet attentive, watched as the instructor picked up a wooden stick no longer than 20 centimeters from a nearby rack.
A translucent aura began to manifest around the "weapon" before the students' eyes. Then, with a motion shaped by years of training, Ricant delivered a strike—neither particularly fast nor particularly strong.
CRACK!!!
The result left everyone speechless.
The shield—despite appearing solid and resistant, as it would for ordinary people—shattered like fragile glass.
From the impact, Seran was thrown onto the ground, landing on his backside. He was unharmed, of course—but his eyes revealed both fear… and the first sparks of curiosity.