System Rebooted

The first thing Donte felt was pressure.

Not pain. Not weight in the physical sense. Just the sensation of being… submerged. As though he were rising from beneath layers of thought, memory, and something not quite his own.

Then came sound.

Whispers. Breathing. The scuff of fabric against stone. Shifting bodies on a cold marble floor.

His eyes opened slowly, reluctantly. Blurred arches loomed overhead, grand and cathedral-like. Light filtered down from high stained glass windows, catching on the soft glow of golden script that still pulsed along the walls.

The world swam. The lines of magic blurred and bent as his vision struggled to keep up. Then—clarity. Sharper than it should've been. Sharper than it used to be.

He was back in the Church of Ascension.

Donte blinked hard. The ache behind his eyes was dull, but present. His breath came slow, steady, measured.

All around him, others were stirring—some sitting up, others still slumped where they'd fallen. A few cried silently. One or two just stared, wide-eyed and numb.

Vespera sat a short distance away, curled inward like she was trying to hold herself together. Her teal braids clung to her neck and face. She didn't look scared. Not exactly. Just… unsettled. Disoriented. Like a soul that hadn't quite landed in the right place.

Donte pushed himself upright.

And paused.

At the edge of his vision—beneath his right hand—something flickered.

A faint purple rune, edged in soft white, shimmered just above the surface of the floor. It hovered for a breath, glowing with quiet certainty… and then vanished.

He stared at the space where it had been.

It hadn't been drawn. It wasn't carved or lit into the tile. It had simply appeared. A symbol, like a thought that had slipped from his mind into the world around him.

He flexed his fingers. They tingled faintly. Not numb, not painful—just alive.

His eyes darted around.

No one else seemed to notice.

Most of the candidates were dazed, recovering. Some leaned against one another for support. Others blinked at their surroundings, slowly finding their way back to themselves.

Donte… wasn't sure if he had found his way back yet.

Something inside him still buzzed. A quiet, electric pressure, like a pulse being measured against new parameters.

What happened to me?

Time passed. He couldn't say how much. A few minutes. Maybe more.

Then the great cathedral doors creaked open with deliberate weight. One of the priests from earlier entered, gold-trimmed robes trailing behind him. His steps echoed against the polished stone floor.

"Rise, children," he said, voice rich and calm. "You have been marked. The path ahead has begun."

Some candidates moved quickly. Others needed help. A tall boy stumbled, blinking in confusion. A girl near the far edge sobbed softly as a friend helped her up. Even Vespera looked slightly unsteady as she stood.

Donte rose last, legs shaky but holding. His whole body felt... hyperaware. Like he could feel his own heartbeat traveling through his bones. Every sound in the cathedral rang just a little too loud. Every surface seemed to gleam with too much light.

The priest stepped into the center of the dais.

"We do not ask what you saw," he said. "Nor will we tell you what it meant. That knowledge belongs to you—and will come in time. In dreams. In trials. In reflection."

He paused, letting the silence fill with meaning.

"From this moment, you are aligned. Your Spirit Matrix has awakened. Your class is bound to your soul. What you do with this power is yours to determine."

Donte lowered his gaze—not in reverence, but in thought.

He didn't know what the Spirit Matrix was—not exactly. But the words rang true. Something inside him had clicked into place. Something deeper than choice, older than memory.

Vespera stood beside him now. Their eyes met briefly. No words. Just mutual understanding. Whatever they had seen—whatever it meant—it had changed them both.

The candidates were led from the sanctum in silence.

Their path back through the cathedral felt shorter than the way in. Sunlight poured through stained glass windows, bathing the hall in soft color. Reds, blues, golds. The golden Magic Script lining the walls pulsed gently—less like a warning, more like a whisper now.

Donte still couldn't read any of it.

But somehow… he felt like that could change.

At the end of the hall, another priest waited with a basket of sealed scrolls. Each scroll was bound with wax stamped in radiant script.

"These are your Class Confirmation Documents," the attendant said. "They contain your official alignment and identification codes. Present them when registering with your local Ascension office."

"Can we open them?" someone asked from the back.

The priest's expression didn't change.

"You may not."

The scrolls were distributed, one by one. Donte accepted his in silence, slipping it into his coat. The seal glowed faintly through the fabric, a quiet reassurance—or maybe a warning.

Outside, the air was warmer.

The plaza beyond the Church had grown crowded. Families and escorts waited near the ceremonial line etched into the stone—none daring to cross it.

Sister Elitha stood with arms folded beside the wagons, watching closely.

Donte ignored the stares. Dozens of eyes tracked the newly Awakened as they exited—but he kept walking. Vespera fell into step beside him again, quiet as ever.

The ride back to the orphanage passed without a word.

Later, in the privacy of his small room, Donte sat on the floor with his back to the wall.

The city beyond the window hummed with its usual life—faint machinery, distant chatter, the low whine of airships gliding overhead—but it all felt distant. He existed beneath it. Outside of it.

He exhaled.

And something inside… opened.

It wasn't a voice.

Not exactly.

Just a presence—quiet and mechanical—unfurling like a list across the back of his mind.

[Skills Acquired]

– Runic Insight

– Spectral Trace

– Runesmith

– Overclocked Assembly

– Structural Scan

No explanations. No instructions. Just names.

But Donte felt each one.

Runic Insight pulsed behind his eyes—a tickle of comprehension, the sense that meaning was just a breath away.

Spectral Trace hovered at the edge of his awareness, like movement just out of sight.

Runesmith settled in his fingertips, tingling with potential.

Overclocked Assembly thumped in his chest, alive with restless energy.

Structural Scan thrummed behind his collarbone—quiet, waiting.

They're part of me now.

No guides. No teachers. If he wanted to understand these abilities, he'd have to do it the hard way—piece by piece.

Donte lifted a finger and hovered it over the floorboards.

Nothing happened.

No glow. No rune.

But for a split second, something stirred in the wood.

Not yet.

He would need tools. A space to work. Materials.

A workshop.

And to get that, he needed one thing above all else—resources.

His jaw tightened.

This was only the beginning. But the first diagnostics had finished. The system was running.

And Donte?

He was ready to build.