Awakening Centre

Enhanced Version (Sharper Flow, Stronger Emotion, and Immersion)

The car slowed to a stop.

The taxi driver lazily tapped the meter display, his voice casual but firm. "Kid, we're here. That'll be 2000 points transfer it."

He pointed toward the QR scanner on the front dashboard.

Rocket barely reacted.

His half-lidded, bloodshot eyes drifted toward the window, taking in the building before him.

A small, two-story structure.

Painted in a deep, almost eerie purple.

Its walls were thick solid, reinforced.

No windows. No decorations.

Just a plain building with a single, massive iron door.

The Public Awakening Center.

With a quiet click, Rocket pushed the car door open.

He limped out, every movement sending fresh pain through his beaten, blood-soaked body.

He had barely taken a step before

"Oi, brother! Where you going?!"

The driver leaned out of his seat, one eyebrow raised.

"You haven't paid yet!"

Rocket froze.

His mind, sluggish from blood loss and exhaustion, clicked too late.

Shit.

I shouldn't have thrown my phone out.

Regret flickered through his battered mind.

His chest rose and fell, struggling for breath.

"Don't tell me" The driver's voice sharpened, irritation creeping in. "You don't have anything to pay?"

Rocket didn't answer.

He was too tired to explain.

Too drained to care.

His gaze lowered to his own trembling hands, searching for something anything he could use as payment.

His eyes landed on the gold ring on his finger.

Then, on the black obsidian necklace hanging around his neck.

His only two possessions.

Both worth far more than 2000 points.

But that wasn't the problem.

It wasn't about the money.

He was already dying.

What use did money have to a man with minutes left to live?

But these

These were different.

His fingers brushed over the gold ring.

The first thing he had ever bought for himself.

The first real possession he had in this world.

A symbol of his hard work. His struggle.

Then, his hand moved to the obsidian necklace.

Tessa's gift.

The first gift he had ever received in his life.

He could still hear her voice her warm smile as she placed it around his neck.

"Always keep this safe, okay? Never lose it."

Rocket paused.

His body hesitated on instinct.

The taxi driver sighed, tapping the dashboard. "Brother, I don't got all night."

Rocket's grip tightened around the necklace.

His breathing was shallow.

His heart thumped.

The logical part of him screamed just give it away, you're dying anyway!

But something inside him refused.

His rage, his pain, his fury.

The moment he thought of Tessa, the betrayal stabbed him in the chest harder than any wound.

His mind shouted, It's meaningless now! Give it away!

But his heart

His damn heart kept holding on.

With a shaky breath, Rocket let go of the necklace.

His fingers moved to the gold ring.

Without a word, he slipped it off.

Then, he threw it.

The small ring spun through the air before landing in the taxi driver's palm.

Rocket didn't wait for a response.

He simply turned away.

Limping.

Moving.

Dragging his broken body toward the Awakening Center, just a few painful steps away.

Behind him, the driver blinked.

He caught the ring, holding it up to the dim streetlight.

He inspected it, then

With zero hesitation

He bit it.

A grin spread across his face. "Richhh customer, huh?"

He chuckled, tossing the ring into his pocket.

"Have a sweet dream or whatever you're off to."

The engine roared to life, and without another word,

The taxi drove off into the night.

Rocket stumbled into the Awakening Center, barely standing. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body screaming in pain.

"Anyone?"

His voice trembled, weak his vision blurring in and out.

The inside of the building was terrible.

Old, cheap furniture. Peeling walls. The air stale with dust.

It looked less like an Awakening Center and more like an abandoned office.

For a moment, Rocket wondered if he was in the wrong place.

Then

A door creaked open.

From the back room, a middle-aged man stepped out.

His face was serious, but his big belly stretched against his purple jacket. His tired eyes barely reacted as he scanned Rocket.

Then, he snorted.

"This ain't a hospital, boy."

His gaze landed on Rocket's bloodied chest.

A low whistle.

"Damn. You're covered in blood. What happened?"

He waved toward the door.

"Wrong building. Hospital's on the east side of the city."

Rocket shook his head, gritting his teeth.

"No time." His voice was hoarse, cracking with pain. "I came for Awakening."

The man paused.

Then

A chuckle.

"Awakening?" His eyes glinted with amusement. "In that condition? You don't love your life, huh?"

His eyes trailed over Rocket's bruised, swollen face.

"Well, looking at you, I guess that's obvious."

He let out a long sigh, shaking his head.

"Listen, kid. Unsafe Awakening ain't a joke."

He raised three fingers.

"I've been here for five years. You know how many people actually went through with it?"

He slowly lowered each finger.

"Three. That's it. And none of them walked out alive."

His voice was flat, matter-of-fact.

"You know that, right?"

Rocket didn't answer.

The man clicked his tongue.

"Look. I get it. You're broke. You can't afford a safety Awakening capsule."

He exhaled.

"But damn, kid. Seventy-six percent chance of dying? That's some real shit luck to gamble on."

A dry chuckle left his lips.

"Why do you even wanna do something that'll probably get you killed?"

Rocket closed his eyes for a second.

Then, he looked up.

And stared silently.

Straight into the man's eyes.

The man sighed, rubbing his stubble.

"Tch. Don't be stingy, kid. Work hard. Save up. Buy a safety Awakening capsule."

"That's why I don't like kids now no patience in my days we."

Rocket gritted his teeth, barely holding himself up. His breath was ragged, his body trembling with exhaustion.

"Listen, dude DO YOUR FUCKING JOB."

His voice cracked with frustration. No patience left.

The man let out a deep sigh, rubbing his temple like he was dealing with a spoiled brat.

"Kids these days don't know the value of life."

He turned, finally looking at Rocket properly.

And sighed again.

The kid's face was wrecked.

Swollen, bruised, red and blue. His clothes were soaked in blood.

The officer shook his head.

"I don't care if you say so, but damn"

His lips twitched into a grin.

"What hit you this hard? A silverback gorilla?"

He let out a short chuckle, then clicked his tongue.

"Your face looks like a monkey's ass. Don't mind me, though."

Rocket ignored the jab.

His eyes, cold and unwavering, locked onto the man's.

The officer sighed.

His smirk faded.

For the first time, his tone turned serious.

"Are you sure about this, young man?"

He crossed his arms.

"This is my job, and I have no right to stop someone from changing their fate."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"But there's always a safer way. You just need patience."

Silence.

Rocket's face didn't change.

He stared straight ahead.

Not hesitating.

Not reconsidering.

Only resolute.

The officer sighed again.

"Alright then."

A pause.

Then his voice lowered.

"Don't regret it."

He turned, motioning toward a thick, steel door.

It hissed open.

The inside was a pure white room empty, sterile, unsettling.

No machines.

No symbols.

Nothing except for a single metallic chair, bolted to the floor.

The officer yawned, stretching.

"Sit."

Rocket limped forward.

His lungs burned.

His legs nearly collapsed beneath him.

His vision flickered in and out.

For a moment, he swayed.

The officer finally frowned.

His voice lost its usual amusement.

"Kid, you're in rough shape. You should really be in a hospital."

Rocket slowly lifted his gaze.

He forced a small, weak smile.

"I don't have much time."

His voice was soft.

Barely audible.

But certain.

"Start it already."

The officer stared at him for a long moment.

Then, without another word, he pressed a button on the control panel.

The chair's restraints clicked, locking Rocket's arms and legs in place.

Two assistants entered, securing the belts tighter.

Rocket didn't resist.

Didn't care.

His body was too drained.

The officer leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

"You know how this works, right?"

Rocket gave a slight nod.

"I know about the trial." His voice was tense, but firm.

"My soul will be pulled into the World of Trials a place that feels like a dream but is real. It will reveal something about me, something that defines me. Then, it will give me a mission a test I have to complete."

The officer raised an eyebrow.

Rocket continued.

"How I handle that mission how fast and efficiently I succeed determines my Awakening. The better I perform, the stronger my inheritance will be."

The officer smirked.

"Huh. You do know your shit."

Then, his smirk widened slightly.

"But lemme tell you, kid your trait? It ain't random."

He tilted his head.

"The trial digs deep. It picks something true about you. Whatever skill, whatever part of you is most real it becomes your path."

He stretched his arms, cracking his knuckles.

"And the difficulty?"

He let out a low chuckle.

"Completely random."

A short pause.

Then, he grinned.

"You could be thrown into a dragon's lair with nothing but chef skills."

Or

"You might get something easy, like stealing a queen's underwear."

He laughed.

Rocket didn't react.

His expression remained blank.

The officer's chuckles faded.

He exhaled through his nose.

Then, his voice turned cold.

"One last thing, kid."

His eyes locked onto Rocket's.

The humor was gone.

"When you're inside, forget morals. Forget dignity. Forget fear."

His voice lowered.

"Do whatever you have to do to complete the trial."

"Because if you die in there?"

His eyes darkened.

"Your body out here will explode. And I really don't wanna clean that shit up."

He lazily gestured at the white walls.

"Blood's a pain to scrub off, y'know?"

He chuckled.

Before the Awakening process began, a second officer approached from the side, holding a clipboard and pen.

"Alright, before we start, we need to register your name for the database."

His voice was flat, uninterested.

Rocket blinked slowly, his body swaying.

Then, in a hoarse voice

"Rocket... Rocket Sucker."

The officer paused mid-writing.

A brief silence.

Then, his lips twitched.

"Huh." A short chuckle escaped. "Guess wisdom runs in the family, huh?"

The fat officer standing near grinned.

A few of the assistants snickered.

Rocket didn't react.

Didn't care.

The fat officer sighed, shaking his head.

Then, he patted Rocket's shoulder firm, but surprisingly gentle.

His usual mocking tone softened.

"Alright, kid. Good luck."

A short pause.

Then, in a low, knowing voice

"Rewrite your fate and at the very least, don't get bullied like this anymore."

His eyes darkened slightly.

"Remember. In this world of suffering and pain weakness is a crime."

The second officer glanced up from his clipboard.

His voice, softer this time.

"Any last wishes? Want to leave any final words for someone?"

He hesitated.

"Do you have any family?"

Rocket was silent.

For a few seconds, a face appeared in his mind.

Tessa.

He inhaled slowly.

Then exhaled.

And smiled.

A gentle, empty smile.

"No one."

A short pause.

Then, he chuckled, voice soft and tired.

"No need. Honestly, dying this way seems kinda fun."

His chest rose and fell, weakly.

"At least I won't have anyone crying over me. Won't have to feel guilty looking down from above."

His voice trailed into a low, bitter laugh.

The fat officer's smile faded slightly.

A flicker of something crossed his face.

Then, quietly

"You kid… come back."

His hand rested on Rocket's head for a brief moment.

A heavy pat.

Then another.

"Dying when no one cries for you" His voice was almost a whisper.

"That's worse than watching people cry from above."

Rocket didn't respond.

Didn't argue.

Didn't reject it.

He just closed his eyes, waiting.

The fat officer exhaled, pulling out a small, blue crystal.

It was cubic, shimmering like liquid glass.

The Awakening Stone.

It hummed softly, sending gentle vibrations through the air.

The officer carefully brought it toward Rocket's forehead.

Rocket's breathing slowed.

His fingers loosened.

His eyes, flickering, weakbfinally shut.

His wounds bled freely, the pool of blood beneath his chair growing larger.

His lips parted slightly.

Is it over before even—hichkk.

Then

His chest stilled.

His heart stopped.

No one noticed.

To them, it was normal.

First-timers always pass out during the Awakening process.

Nothing unusual.

The fat officer gave one last glance at Rocket's motionless body.

Then, he sighed.

"Don't die, kid."

He turned away, motioning for the others to leave.

The thick steel door closed behind them.

And inside the silent, white room

Rocket sat still in the chair.

Eyes shut.

Unbreathing.

Heart unmoving.

For all logical purposes

He was dead.

Then

Ding.

[WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF TRIAL #¥||√#@]

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