Chapter 1: Day of Awakening
Year 2057 - A.M. (After Manafall)
Rowan stirred as the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, painting the mist-shrouded ruins in hues of gold and crimson. Around him, the remnants of the old world lay silent—broken towers piercing the sky like jagged teeth, their skeletal frames tangled with creeping vines. A faint hum filled the air, almost imperceptible, but Rowan felt it in his bones. Mana. It had become the lifeblood of this fractured Earth, though its touch was as much a curse as it was a gift.
Sitting cross-legged on the cracked concrete rooftop, Rowan toyed with the pendant around his neck. The silver disc, weathered but intact, caught the morning light. His thumb brushed over the engraved initials—a keepsake from his mother. “Another day,” he murmured, though this one was unlike any other. Today marked his eighteenth birthday, when he was supposedly to awaken an ability and join the ranks of humanity’s strongest.
The idea had both haunted and excited him for years. After the advent of the Manafall, for some inexplicable reason, there were humans that gained abilities, their essence reshaped by the mana that saturated the world. Some became warriors strong enough to rip apart steel, or awakened the ability to command the elements and yet others became healers and craftsmen.
Some were unfortunately unable to adapt to the mana and become the Mana-Scarred. They were those whose exposure to mana didn’t grant them abilities but instead mutated their bodies and minds into horrifying, abominable forms. They were unpredictable, vicious, and carried the haunting remnants of humanity in their twisted appearances. Worse still, the Mana-Scarred often exhibited a terrifying cunning, making them even deadlier than the beasts.
And yet there were those who failed to Awaken, left powerless in a world that had little place for weakness. Rowan clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening. Not me. Not today.
Throughout the years humanity has somewhat become adapted, with abilities they were able to fight back the monsters and the mana-scarred. Eking out a living in this strange new world filled with danger.
Humanity had also discovered that humans awaken to an ability once they reach the age of 18. Most believe it’s because this is when the mana considers the body matured enough to be awakened. But there had never been anyone to prove it true or otherwise.
Rowan watch the ruins stretch endlessly before him, their jagged silhouette a stark reminder of the world’s collapse. Ten years had passed since the Manafall, but its scars were still fresh. Rowan had seen them up close: fractured settlements teetering on the edge of collapse, survivors scraping by in mana-soaked ruins, and monsters prowling the shadows, their forms twisted and hungry. He had survived those ten years, not through strength but through sheer stubbornness. And today, everything would hopefully change.
A breeze stirred the air, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers. Rowan rose to his feet, stretching his lean, muscular frame. His sharp hazel eyes, flecked with a faint shimmer of silver, scanned the horizon. He’d chosen this rooftop for its isolation. No Drifters to steal from him. No Vanguard patrols to interrogate him. And no one to see if he failed, or turned into a Mana-Scarred.
Rowan sat down again, his back resting against a weathered vent. The air seemed to grow heavier, charged with an unseen force. He took a deep breath, his fingers trembling as he gripped the pendant.
It was time. He could feel it inside of him.
The first sensation was a tingling warmth in his chest, spreading outward like ripples in a pond. The warmth grew into heat, then fire, until it felt like his very veins were aflame. Rowan gasped, his body arching as a wave of energy crashed through him. Colors exploded behind his closed eyelids—silver, violet, and gold, intertwining in an otherworldly dance.
He saw flashes of memory. His mother’s laughter, his father’s stern but kind gaze, Ana’s giggle as she tugged on his sleeve. And then the screams. The fire. The Mana-Scarred tearing through their home. His family’s voices faded into silence, replaced by a roar that seemed to come from within him.
Rowan’s senses sharpened to a painful degree. He could hear the rustle of leaves several blocks away, the creak of the rooftop beneath him, even the faint hum of mana saturating the air. His body trembled, his muscles twitching as the transformation reached its peak.
And then, it was over.
Rowan collapsed onto the rooftop, his chest heaving. The world around him seemed brighter, sharper. The hum of mana wasn’t just a sound anymore—it was a pulse, a rhythm he could feel inside him. Tentatively, he closed his eyes and reached inward, searching for the source of the power now coursing through him.
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Two distinct presences stirred in response, like twin flames flickering in his being. Rowan’s eyes snapped open. Two? That wasn’t possible. Everyone awakened to a single ability. It was a fact as immutable as gravity. Yet here he was, feeling not one but two.
But what would he know? It’s not like he was party to the secrets of the upper echelons of today’s humanity. He was actually part of the dregs of society, which would hopefully change soon enough if he was smart enough to take advantage of his abilities. But still, if there were any other human that had two abilities they would be famous throughout all the factions.
Just then a translucent screen appeared before him, hovering in midair.
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Name: Rowan Dalauta
Age: 18
Height: 6'0" (183 cm)
Weight: 165 lbs (75 kg)
Condition: Healthy
Mana Reserves: 100% (Newly Awakened)
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ABILITIES:
* Monster Card Lord (Rank 1):Condenses the essence of killed monsters into Monster Cards, which can then be summoned.
Functionalities:
Complete Card Formation: Automatically forms a Monster Card if enough essence is present upon defeating a monster.
Summon: Summons monsters fight under Rowan's command.
Current Cards: None (Ability newly activated).
* System Interface (Rank 1):Provides a gamelike interface to view personal status, an spatial inventory, and the looting of monster corpses.
Functionalities:
Status: Displays a summary of Rowan's overall bodily condition and abilities.
Inventory: A unique spatial storage for inanimate objects. Items stored remain preserved indefinitely.
Loot: Condenses the essence of slain monsters and turns them into resources, materials, and unique items. * Restrictions: Physical contact with the corpse is required to activate looting.
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COMBAT ATTRIBUTES
* Physical Strength: Average (Slightly enhanced by Awakening)
* Speed/Agility: Above average (Honed through survival)
* Stamina: High (Years of scavenging and survival have built endurance)
* Mana Sensitivity: Moderate (Awakening has sharpened his connection to mana flow but requires practice for precision)
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INVENTORY
* Capacity: 10 slots available at Rank 1 (Each slot expands as ability ranks up).
* Items: Empty (Inventory freshly activated).
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Rowan stared at the screen, his pulse racing. Two abilities. There were really two of them listed on the screen, confirming what he felt deep within his very being. His hands trembled as he navigated the interface with his thoughts, the interface responding seamlessly. The implications were staggering.
The text seemed to shift and shimmer, yet Rowan could read it as clearly as if it were carved into stone. His heart raced. He reached out tentatively, and the screen responded to his thoughts, shifting menus and highlighting sections as he focused on them.
“How is this even possible?” Rowan whispered, his voice trembling. Two abilities. Two gifts. No one had ever awakened to more than one. What did it mean? Why him? And they both looked to be very unique abilities, he hasn’t heard on anyone else having an ability close to anything like these.
Before he could fully process his discovery, a high-pitched scream pierced the air. It was unmistakably human—young, desperate, terrified. Rowan froze, his body taut with adrenaline. The scream echoed through the ruins, followed by a guttural squeal that sent chills down his spine.
His hands tightened around the pendant at his neck. Memories of Ana’s screams flooded his mind, unbidden and sharp. The air seemed to chill around him.
The scream reverberated through the ruins, raw and desperate. Rowan’s heart thundered in his chest as he leapt from the rooftop, grabbing onto a nearby branch to break his fall. He landed with a sharp thud on the uneven ground below, his knees bending to absorb the impact. Pain jolted through him, but he barely noticed. The urgency in the childlike cry and the low, guttural sound that followed left no room for hesitation. His thoughts blurred into a singular focus: A child needs help.
He sprinted toward the source of the sound, weaving through the skeletal remains of buildings that jutted into the sky like broken ribs. His surroundings were a blur of shattered concrete and tangled vines, remnants of a world that had once been bustling with life. The ground beneath his boots crunched, each step driving him closer to the danger.
Rowan’s breath came in sharp bursts, his body still adjusting to the influx of power from his Awakening. His muscles burned with the effort, but the strange energy coursing through him propelled him forward, numbing the fatigue. Every step was driven by a mix of determination and desperation. I won’t let it happen again.