[Flashback – 3 Years Ago | Aptitude Testing Center]
A long line of children stood in the cold magic aptitude testing center ground, each nervously awaiting their turn at the Magic Globe — a glowing crystal orb used to measure one's mana quantity and quality. The brighter and rarer the color, the more powerful the potential.
Most glowed blue. A few got green. The luckier ones saw orange or even gold. Each result brought murmurs and scribbled notes from the examiners.
Somewhere in the middle of the line, a small red-haired boy stood yawning, arms folded, clearly uninterested.
"Aslan," the examiner called.
Aslan shuffled forward, bored. He placed his hand on the globe like it was just another chore.
Suddenly—
WHOOM!
The orb pulsed with an intense dark crimson glow — a color no one had ever seen before.
Gasps echoed through the hall.
And then—
CRACK!
The globe shattered like fragile glass.
Total silence.
A boy behind Aslan whispered, "Did… did it break because he's too weak?"
Another added, "Yeah, probably has no mana. The globe couldn't even detect anything."
Aslan blinked. Huh? Is that bad?
Then his face lit up with a huge smile.
"I'm weak?! I'm trash in this world!" Like he'd just won a prize.
It was as if a dream had come true.
Meanwhile, the examiners were frozen in horror.
One woman whispered, "This… this can't be happening."
Another muttered, "The Magic Globe has never broken before. And that red color… we've never recorded anything like it."
"Must be a malfunction," one mumbled. "The globe probably glitched. Something went wrong when it scanned him."
From the corner, a quiet observer — a younger Alice — watched it all unfold with wide eyes.
Later That Day – Office of the Director of Aptitude
An examiner rushed in.
"Sir, there's a… problem."
The Director of Aptitude looked up from his paperwork. "What kind of problem?"
"In one boy's test… the Magic Globe turned dark crimson… and then shattered."
The Director froze.
"One boy's globe turned dark crimson… and then shattered."
He leaned back slowly, tension creeping into his voice.
"No… this time, it shattered."
"And the child… he smiles like it means nothing."
The Director of Aptitude Testing Center spoke through the globe to someone… but their face remained hidden.
[Present Day – Magic Control Class | Academy]**
"In today's class," the instructor announced, "we'll be re-checking your mana signatures. One by one, step up to the Magic Globe."
Students lined up.
Blue. Green. Orange. One burst of golden sparkles for Alice, which earned a few claps.
Then came Aslan, dragging his feet, visibly unbothered.
"Please be black," he muttered. "No light. No attention. Let me live."
He placed his hand—
BOOOOM! The globe surged deep red again.
And then—
CRACK. SNAP. SHATTER. KABOOM!
The globe exploded in a glitter storm of smoke and light.
The class fell dead silent.
As the dust cleared, Aslan stood there like a cartoon explosion victim — hair standing up, face smudged with black powder.
Then—
Laughter erupted.
"He looks like a roasted rat!"
"Aslan never fails to entertain!"
Some noble kids snorted from the back. "Tch. Pathetic." "He probably has no mana at all." "What do you expect from a commoner?"
Cael grinned wide. "You look like an exploded mouse!"
Even Alice was laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his seat.
Aslan just blinked, looked down at himself, and shrugged.
"Guess I'm trash."
Meanwhile, at the back of the room, the instructor stared at the remains of the globe with wide eyes.
"…Again," he whispered. "That red-haired boy…"
He thought to himself:
"Should I report this to the Headmaster… again?"
Back among the students:
George squinted, curious. "That wasn't normal. That globe looked like it was screaming before it broke."
Cael waved it off. "Relax. Probably just another faulty one."
Alice said quietly, "Guys… that wasn't just a glow. That thing panicked."
And so, once again, the Magic Globe was destroyed.
May its soul rest in pieces.