Chapter 2: Echoes of the Past
"Aetheris."
The name echoed through the hall like a final judgment. All eyes turned toward the back of the line where a lone figure stood. Aetheris stepped forward, his footsteps unnaturally loud in the sudden silence that had fallen over the assembled students and observers.
He approached the scanner with measured steps, his face a mask of carefully controlled composure. This was it—the moment that would determine everything. The moment he had been waiting for, hoping for, dreaming of since he could remember.
The Origin Association agent watched impassively as Aetheris placed his palm on the scanner's cool surface. The device hummed to life, its blue light pulsing as it began its analysis. Ten seconds. That's all it would take to scan for the resonance that would change his life forever.
The light remained steady blue. No fluctuation. No brilliant flare. No sign of the power he so desperately needed.
"No resonance detected," the agent announced in the same monotone voice he'd used for all the others who had failed.
The words hit Aetheris like a physical blow. His hand remained on the scanner for a moment longer, as if willing something—anything—to happen. But the device remained cold and indifferent beneath his palm.
No power. No strength. No way to...
The thought triggered something deep within his mind, like a key turning in a long-locked door. Suddenly, fragments of memory began to surface—glimpses of a past he had tried so hard to forget.
Screaming. Blood. The sound of his mother's voice pleading...
"Please, don't hurt him! He's just a child!"
His father's defiant shouts turning to agonized cries...
Himself, small and helpless, forced to watch as shadowy figures in dark clothing tortured the two people who meant everything to him. Unable to move, unable to help, unable to do anything but witness their suffering.
"Where is it?" The voice was cold, merciless. "Where did you hide it?"
"We don't know what you're talking about!" His father's voice, broken but still protective.
The sound of impact. His mother's scream. His father's grunt of pain.
And through it all, young Aetheris could only watch, paralyzed by fear and helplessness, as his world crumbled before his eyes.
The memories crashed over him like a tidal wave. All this time, he had wanted power—not for glory, not for status, but for revenge. To find those who had destroyed his family. To make them pay for what they had done. To never again be the helpless child who could only watch as evil triumphed.
But now... now he had nothing. No power. No strength. No way to avenge his parents or find the truth behind their deaths.
The weight of his failure, combined with the sudden flood of suppressed memories, was too much. The hall began to spin around him. The faces of his classmates blurred together as his vision darkened at the edges.
Somewhere in the distance, he could hear snickers and whispered comments from his classmates.
"Look at him, he can't even handle failing like the rest of us."
"What a weakling."
"At least the others who failed didn't faint about it."
The mocking voices grew fainter as darkness closed in around him. His legs gave out, and the last thing Aetheris remembered was the cold floor rushing up to meet him.
Consciousness returned slowly, accompanied by the antiseptic smell of the school hospital and the soft beeping of medical equipment. Aetheris opened his eyes to find himself lying on a narrow bed, a thin blanket pulled up to his chest. Sunlight streamed through the windows, indicating that considerable time had passed since the assessment.
The school nurse, a kindly middle-aged woman, noticed his movement and approached with a gentle smile.
"Ah, you're awake. How are you feeling, dear?"
Aetheris tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced him back down. "What... what happened?"
"You fainted during the assessment ceremony. Gave everyone quite a scare." She checked his pulse with practiced efficiency. "Your vitals are stable now, but you should rest a bit longer."
The memories of the assessment—and the glimpses of his past—came flooding back. The failure. The mocking laughter. The fragments of memory that had torn through his mind like shards of broken glass.
"The other students..." he began.
"The ceremony concluded hours ago. Those who awakened have already been contacted about their academy placements." The nurse's voice was gentle, but it carried the unspoken truth—he was not among them.
Aetheris stared at the ceiling, the weight of his situation settling over him like a shroud. No power. No future among the awakened. And now, haunted by memories of a past he couldn't fully remember but could never forget.
He was truly alone.