Awakening Ceremony.

The crowd of excited youths, upon hearing the man's sharp voice, instead of quieting down became even more energized as they recognized the figure standing before them. Whispers rippled through the assembled teenagers.

"Isn't that... Ironclad?" a girl with vibrant pink hair hissed to her friend, her eyes wide with surprise.

"No way," her friend whispered back, her hand covering her mouth in shock.

"Isn't he an A- Rank hero? What's he doing here?" another girl chirped, joining the hushed conversation.

"I saw him on the Neo- Net last week," a boy with spiky brown hair chimed in, puffing out his chest a little. "He single-handedly contained the Nexus break at Xylos-Prime."

"Seriously?" Pink-Hair breathed, a hint of awe coloring her voice.

"Yeah, crazy, right?" Spiky-Hair continued, a smug grin spreading across his face. He clearly enjoyed being the center of attention. "They said he leveled an entire block just to stop that mutated Chronophage. Insane power."

"Wow, imagine the sight," one of the girls sighed dreamily, casting a flirtatious glance towards Ironclad, who faced the crowd with a stern expression. She bit her lip suggestively. "A big, strong, sexy man handling a huge beast."

"Pfft, you wish," another girl scoffed, rolling her eyes at the blatant display, causing the others to chuckle.

Meanwhile, amidst the excited chatter and open admiration directed at Ironclad, one teenager remained detached. A seventeen-year-old boy with long, messy, dirty blonde hair that reached his shoulders, and piercing green eyes that seemed cold, detached, and almost lifeless, despite his handsome features. This was Aric, a young orphan, and the body Michael had begun inhabiting two days ago after arriving in this world.

The noise, the chatter, the reverence the crowd offered Ironclad, despite the hero's earlier rude word and attitude towards them, disgusted him. However, he kept his face impassive, simply staring ahead, seemingly unbothered.

His inaction didn't attract any attention; after all, he wasn't acting out of character. The previous Aric would have done the same. He hated this hero, even more than Michael did, a hatred stemming from the death of his parents, a fact Michael had gleaned from the fragmented memories he now possessed.

Aric had grown up in Xylos-Prime, a small city built around a large Aether mine. The city's inhabitants, including Aric's parents, worked in the mine. It was a difficult and demanding job, but it paid well enough to provide a modestly comfortable life, so most residents didn't complain. However, the work wasn't just hard; it was also dangerous.

The high density of Aether energy flowing through the extensive network of veins beneath the city made it not only a prime location for Aether mining, but also a fertile ground for Nexus seeds to sprout. Late detection of one such seed had led to a catastrophic Nexus breach in the mine, unleashing a flood of monstrous creatures. Many miners, including Aric's parents, lost their lives in the ensuing chaos.

Aric, like many children in this world, had once revered heroes. They were the powerful protectors, figures of respect, fame, and fortune, a profession everyone aspired to, including young Aric.

But the incident in the mine had shattered that admiration. He blamed the heroes, their slow response time, for the deaths of his parents. In the five years since the tragedy, Aric had withdrawn into himself, harboring a deep-seated hatred. A hatred Michael now carried within him, inhabiting this young man's body. Not that he minded; he rather liked it. Hating heroes was, in a way, what he had come to this world to do.

"Quiet, puppies!" Ironclad's voice boomed, cutting through the air like a whip. His eyes, sharp and piercing, swept across the crowd of assembled teenagers, who immediately recoiled, cowering under his intense gaze. Silence descended upon the hall.

"Now settle down, you monkeys! You're about to undergo the most significant event of your lives, and you're behaving like a pack of rabid squirrels," he barked again. The teenagers straightened up, the excitement of seeing a high-ranking hero momentarily forgotten as the weight of the day's purpose settled upon them.

Today was their awakening ceremony, a day that held the potential to shape their entire future.

Aric's brows furrowed as the mood shifted.

It had been two days since he had awakened in Aric's body. The previous Aric had died peacefully in his sleep, seemingly from natural causes, or perhaps, Michael mused, Goddess Lila had orchestrated his demise to make room for Michael's arrival. Either way, it didn't matter to him. Upon taking over the body, he had also inherited the previous owner's memories, allowing him to piece together his current situation.

The world he now inhabited was called Atheria Prime. From what he'd gathered from history books in the academy library over the past two days, a century ago, this world had been much like Earth, similar in technology and societal development, perhaps even a bit more advanced. He couldn't be certain, not having lived through it himself.

Everything changed with the discovery of the first Aether Vein. This potent energy source revolutionized Atheria Prime, propelling its civilization forward at an unprecedented rate. Aether energy was integrated into every facet of their technology, leading to rapid advancements. However, with such fortune came unforeseen consequences.

A few years after the discovery of Aether, the first Nexus Seed arrived, unleashing hordes of monstrous creatures upon the unsuspecting world. Chaos erupted as humanity found itself locked in a desperate war for survival. Casualties mounted on both sides, and the tide began to turn against humanity. Despite their technological advancements, human weapons proved less and less effective against these rapidly mutating creatures, spreading panic throughout the world.

It was during this dark period that scientists discovered another application for Aether: human augmentation. This breakthrough led to the first generation of "Awakened," individuals capable of harnessing Aether energy to perform superhuman feats. These newly empowered humans turned the tide of the war, pushing back the monstrous invaders and securing humanity's survival.

Led by David Windsor (the hero Michael had been sent by Goddess Lila to kill), this first generation of Awakened became revered as heroes, saviors of humanity, their names etched in legend and admired even by today's heroes.

After the war, humanity continued to advance its technology, and more Awakened individuals began to emerge. These individuals were granted immense respect, fame, and fortune. Everything society valued was bestowed upon them. This is why every young person between the ages of sixteen and eighteen dreamt of becoming Awakened. Today was an important day for these hopefuls, but it was also a day filled with anxiety, especially for those on the cusp of eighteen.

The Awakening process began at sixteen and was repeated annually for the next three years for those who failed on their first attempt. For those who reached eighteen, today was their third and final chance. The outcome of this ceremony would determine their future, a reality that weighed heavily on their minds.

Even the sixteen-year-olds felt the pressure. While not their last opportunity, they knew that failure today meant diminished potential. It was common knowledge that the earlier one Awakened, the greater their potential. Those who Awakened at sixteen were considered to have the highest potential, followed by seventeen-year-olds, and then eighteen-year-olds. Of course, there were exceptions, but statistically, this held true.

"Okay, monkeys," Ironclad's voice boomed, cutting through the tense silence. "Your principal and vice principal are out on official business, so I'll be overseeing your Awakening ceremony. When I call your name, walk up to the stage."

Moments ago, they had buzzed with curiosity about the presence of such a high-ranking hero at their ceremony. Now, the answer was clear, but none reacted. The reality of the situation had sunk in. The next chapter of their lives was about to unfold, and they were all nervous about what it held. All eyes were fixed on the stage, where Ironclad stood beside a platform holding a human-head-sized, round crystal – the Awakening Orb. Silent hopes and anxieties filled the air.

Uncaring of the teenagers' apprehension, Ironclad pulled out a list and, under their watchful gaze, began to call out names.

"Timmy Bratton…"

"I… I am—here, sir," a frail-looking teenager with thick-rimmed glasses perched precariously on his nose, who looked to be between sixteen and seventeen, raised his hand hesitantly from the crowd.

"Well, I didn't ask for a monologue. Get your unmotivated ass up here at once!" Ironclad barked, his stern voice causing the boy to visibly tremble.

"Aww, he's scaring our little Timmy," a boy with spiky metallic grey hair and a sharp jawline, sitting behind Aric, muttered jokingly.

"Which isn't a good idea," his friend beside him, with raven-dark hair and a handsome face, replied. "Last time someone did that, we had to lock down the entire class because of the smell of his nervous… purging."

"Yeah, that's true," Sharp-Jawline agreed. "Though, I doubt it'll happen again. With how stern Ironclad looks, I bet even his poop wouldn't want to come out and face him."