<Awakening Talent/>
The GAIA system was glitching. Again.
I slouched in my seat, eyes half-lidded as the clock ticked past 8:05 a.m. The hum of the classroom droned on, steady and monotonous.
Mr. Riz, our homeroom teacher, stood at the front, gesturing at the large screen behind him. His words washed over me like white noise.
"...Today is your awakening ceremony," he was saying, clipped and professional. "We'll be heading to the GAIA Talent Bureau at 9:00 a.m. for your talent scans."
I barely paid attention. It wasn't disinterest—it was exhaustion from hearing the same scripted spiel every year. The entire school had been talking about this for weeks, but none of it felt real to me.
"Now, remember," Mr. Riz continued, flipping to a new slide. "Just because you don't awaken a talent today doesn't mean it's the end of the road. You all have two chances. If you don't awaken today, the second awakening program is your backup."
A few chuckles rippled through the room.
Everyone knew how the second awakening program worked. It was a gamble, a coin toss. Most didn't bother unless they were desperate.
"Anyone who successfully awakens will be assigned to a GAIA Talent Academy," Mr. Riz said, his tone brightening. "Those with an A rank or higher will receive invitations to select their academy. Choose wisely—your future depends on it."
A slight thrill passed through the class at the mention of "A rank." I couldn't bring myself to care. The ranks, the academies—just another game, and I wasn't sure I wanted to play.
Mr. Riz wrapped up his speech and left the room. The classroom buzzed with excitement, whispers filling the space.
I watched my classmates, their faces lit with anticipation, and wondered what it was like to feel that.
I didn't.
"Hey, Noah, you ready?" Graham's voice snapped me back.
Lanky, messy brown hair, always grinning—that was Graham. We'd known each other since childhood, mostly bonding over food. That shared hobby kept our friendship afloat despite our differences.
"Ready for what?" I asked, stretching out my legs, hands behind my head. I gave him a half-hearted smile, not wanting to kill his enthusiasm.
"To see my talent! I've been training hard. Bet I'll get a solid B rank, maybe even an A! My stats are above average for sure."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're not the only one with above-average stats." But internally, I wondered why mine hadn't displayed.
"Come on," Graham chuckled. "I bet you're worried about getting a low rank, huh?"
I laughed along, hollow and weightless.
The truth? I had no clue what to expect. My HUD—the same one every student had—had been glitching. No stats showed up.
No strength, no intelligence, no energy acuity.
Just question marks in every field.
It didn't bother me as much as it should've. Part of me had always been skeptical of the GAIA system. The way it assigned classes and talents, so clinical, so... controlled.
It was like a piece of machinery churning out futures for people, but at what cost?
"Hey," Graham said, snapping me back to reality. "You still have time to change your mind, you know. You could back out of this whole awakening thing if you want. But I'll warn you—everyone will talk."
I hesitated, then gave him a weak smile. "Nah. I'll go. Just... don't expect much."
The rest of the day passed by in a blur of nervous energy.
At 8:30 a.m., we all gathered by the entrance of the school, where a shuttle awaited to take us to the GAIA Talent Bureau. The air was thick with the buzz of anticipation, but I felt detached, like I was floating above it all, watching but not participating.
************************
The Talent Bureau was overwhelming. Teens from all over packed the vast registration hall, carrying their hopes and dreams. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant. GAIA's systems hummed in the background like an ever-present heartbeat. Sterile. Efficient. Oppressive.
"Follow me, everyone!" Mr. Riz shouted, cutting through the noise. "Make sure to check in at this location, then head to your designated capsule!"
I followed the crowd, my HUD blinking to life with a notification. "Check-in required: GTB Registration in progress."
Without thinking, I tapped the glowing icon, and the system scanned my credentials with a faint hum. The display shifted to show the talent registration interface—a sleek, minimalistic design that pulsed with an unsettling energy. I tapped "Accept" without hesitation.
"Verifying applicant..."
A few seconds passed, each one stretching longer than the last. My chest tightened, a strange sense of unease crawling up my spine. Then, the screen blinked, and the message updated.
"Applicant verified. Welcome to the Gaia Talent Bureau."
For a moment, I stood still, staring at the screen in disbelief. The message seemed so... normal. But as my stats flashed on the screen, my stomach churned.
Name: Noah Adler
Age: 16
Talent: None
Class: None
DA: ???
EA: ???
Attributes: ???
I blinked. "What the hell?" My stats were blank. I'd seen them before—strength, intelligence, everything—so why were they gone now?
Graham sidled up, grinning. "See? Told you. Above average stats all the way."
I forced a grin. "Yeah. Good for you."
"Hey," he lowered his voice. "You sure you're okay? You don't look so hot."
I didn't answer. My thoughts tangled, too focused on the glitch. Was my data just too low to measure? Or was something else wrong?
We moved through the line, reaching Capsule 15. I took my seat. Cool metal pressed against my skin. The lid sealed with a soft hiss, and energy buzzed under my skin like static.
The screen in front of me flickered to life.
"Talent Awakening is initiating…"
A warm wave of energy spread through my body, followed by a shiver of cold. My HUD lit up with progress bars, tracking my energy acuity and data accumulation.
[Energy Acuity (EA) Progress: 35%... 40%... 55%...]
[Data Accumulation (DA) Progress: 21%... 67%…]
I relaxed a little, watching the numbers tick upward. Maybe this would be simple. Maybe this was just a standard awakening, one that followed the path of every other student.
[Determining Class...]
The screen froze.
[ERROR]
[Progress interrupted]
I blinked. "What?" I whispered, my pulse quickening.
Finally the words appeared.
"Initiating Codebreaker…"
My heart skipped a beat. "Wait, that's…"
What was happening? Why was that showing up now?
The sensation of energy continued to buzz around me, but I couldn't focus on it. My mind was racing, trying to make sense of the flashing text in front of me.
A red warning flashed across my HUD. My entire vision became distorted—code, numbers, glitches. The capsule's hum turned into a screech, and the last thing I saw before blacking out was a single line of text.
[CODEBREAKER SYSTEM OVERRIDE: ACTIVATING.]