16. The Descent

Zoren scanned the students. They looked excited. Who wouldn’t be excited to become an Awakened? It never gets old. Always the same excited look that disappears a few years down the road, Zoren thought.

“Everyone. The next part of the program is a documentary called 'The Descent'. It’s a brief summary of our history going into the last 300 years, beginning with the coming of the Ashen.”

Groans resonated throughout the room. Zoren wasn’t surprised. It sounded boring.

And they’ve all heard it all before. The beginning of humanity’s fall; its continued survival; its chase for freedom; and its dream for the stars.

Hopes and dreams that lead to excuses justifying the Awakened academies. Institutions built to create living weapons of destruction. Excuses to justify training children to be masters in the arts of killing and war.

They heard it all. It’s been drilled into them since they were born, of how the Awakened became necessary for humanity’s continued survival.

It’s part of the League’s preparation for the inevitable outcome of how some children awaken their soul cores when they turn 15. A propaganda.

“Many of you have varying reasons why you’ve come here,” Zoren said with a slight pause, and the students became quiet. “Honour, glory, status… adventure. But as Headmistress Livia stated. The Aetheric Path is a path of death–– even more now than ever. The Ashen have become stronger. More active. The five Dominions struggle to keep them at bay. And more and more of the Awakened die each day. We even lost the Dominion of St. John two years ago. And if you choose to walk this path–– your death is inevitable.”

Some students were sombre and indifferent, like several of the Legacies, just like him–– Cale Scott. This batch’s Mexurian.

Some students showed surprise. But when he showed no indication of jest, those expressions of surprise shifted into hints of hesitation. The tell was all too obvious to him. Widened eyes. Pale features. Trembling bodies.

But that’s the point. To shock them.

He felt bad. But, they’re just children. It’s not right to fool them to fight just because they could choose to use magic, he thought as a reminder for himself.

There are those too who looked determined. May be it out of sheer overconfidence or just coolish pride.

“But we already know that Prof. Can we just get on with it?” one of those determined students said. Niall Locksmith.

“Niall, right? Have you ever personally seen an Ashen before?”

Niall shook his head.

Zoren wasn’t surprised. Bloodliners like Niall are treated with so much care until they unlock their soul cores.

“How many of you here personally encountered the Ashen before?” asked Zoren.

Nobody raised their hands. But many of the students glanced to a corner of the room, to a group of about a dozen students who stood erect and undeterred, hiding deep within their calm eyes their rage for vengeance.

These students were all from St. John. The Academy has a strong order to keep an eye on their progress. They’re hungry for it, Zoren thought.

“Many of you believe that you understand what you’re getting into,” Zoren began. “But it would be irresponsible for us to not show you the future that awaits you. To truly walk the Aetheric Path, you must understand that what awaits you is not the glamorous life of the top Awakened you see portrayed in the media. Less than 1 in 100 of the Awakened can achieve that status. And that’s coming from someone who has been stuck for decades at the peak of the Class III himself,” he said as he pointed to himself.

Anthony, one of the professors, walked up to him, whispering. “What are you doing, Zoren? We’re not supposed to scare them. But inspire them!”

“Take it up to the Headmistress,” said Zoren.

“You––”

“Go back to your lane, Anthony. We will begin immediately.”

“Just because you are top Ranker does not mean you can just do what––”

“It’s precisely because of that, that I can do whatever I want. Now, scram,” Zoren said.

Anthony sneered, walking back to the other professors. He huffed when none of them sided with him.

Zoren addressed the room once more. “And to show you this future, requires an understanding of the past. What you are about to–– experience, is unlike the videos or photos you’ve all watched in your history classes before. No,” Zoren shook his head.

But rather than explain what he meant, it’s better to show them instead.

With a flick of his hand, the projectors came to life, casting ghostly light across the auditorium.

The augmented reality documentary portion of the orientation was supposed to be inspirational in nature, as Anthony put it. But Zoren tampered with it.

He removed unnecessary elements like music, or even the pre-recorded narrator with her hopeful tone.

He decided he would do the narration himself. For these children to truly understand, their eyes must see it raw.

“September 2024. This is the year the Descent refers to. The first coming of the Ashen over three hundred years ago, and the beginning of humanity’s fall,” he said as the surroundings changed.

The students looked around in awe. They were in New York. A place called the Times Square.

It wasn’t a perfect visual replica. But with the addition of auditory, tactile, and olfactory simulators, not to mention the tendency of the human eye to ignore details they deem unnecessary, it was as if they were truly there.

A conversation began among the students. Excited and cheerful still. But Zoren knew it wouldn’t last long.

“This is amazing! I didn’t know we had this technology,” said one of the students.

“Apparently, it’s some kind of a new technology the media developed. A new way for the public to consume the news or watch movies.”

“You can even smell stuff. And this place looks so modern. Was this really 300 years ago?”

“Right? It’s like we’re actually here.”

How lively…

Then after a beat, a rain of meteorites descended from the sky, crashing and killing many people.

People screamed, and even some of the students did. They could feel the heat, but they weren’t hurt.

“This is the Descent, when pebble-sized meteorites rained throughout the world. They carried the Xyz virus. Xyz is supposed to be a placeholder term to represent something. But humanity doesn’t understand the virus – not even today. So, they only named it as such. A symbolic name for the unknown,” said Zoren.

But the students weren’t interested in that. Zoren just felt the need to say it.

Instead, some students puked at the stench of decay and rot; of dead flesh, feces, and blood.

Zoren ignored them. “Xyz is a virus that infects the human brain, turning them into the Ashen. A virus that we know are not of our world,” he said as he looked around, gesturing to the Ashen devouring people, of corpses coming back to life, becoming the Ashen themselves.

Some Ashen looked more menacing than the others; with shell-like skins that acted as natural armour. Others were bigger with elongated limbs and nails that easily cut through various metals and steel.

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And there were the Ashen that hulked over the rest of their counterparts, easily tossing vehicles and even tanks.

The Ashen are essentially super zombies.

Watching all of these, some of the students unsheathed their blades. The Legacies.

But when they struck, they struck at nothing. At the realization, they knelt on the ground in despair.

Zoren’s eyes lingered for a moment at a student who stumbled when she tried to embrace a dead child. It was the daughter of the Defense Secretary – Aoife Manners. She shook and cried as another student comforted her, Chloe Auclair. The girl with the condition.

The sight wasn’t uncommon. Many students attempted to save the mirage of the past.

Souls long gone.

Zoren as he transported the students to different places in history. They have fallen. Aflame. Ruined. “New York, Washington, Vancouver, Mexico, Tokyo, Seoul, Shanghai, New Delhi, Singapore… so many more. Once great cities mirroring humanity's grand civilization, within the blink of an eye–– destroyed," he said.

“And this is just the beginning of our fall, for years of war soon followed,” Zoren said, as footage of war and destruction further played – no narration, no nothing – only footage of once lively cities turning into graveyards of death.

It must have been 10 minutes when Anthony finally walked up to him again to voice his defiance. But at least, he still whispered. It’s not the best time to show the children there is division. “Enough, Zoren. Giving them that speech is one thing. But tampering with the documentary? That’s unforgivable!”

Zoren scoffed. “Look around you, Anthony,” he said and tipped his chin to the other four teachers. They remained standing like statues, eyes of indifference only observing the students. “You’re the only one against it. Even Professor Owen doesn’t care. Are you really going to fool these kids with your false perceptions and do as you’re told like a dog? …And you call yourself a Class III?" he said, realizing too late he lost his calm.

Anthony loves… no, is so infatuated with order, that he has become blind to the whims of the League. The reason professors have to be at least Class III is precisely because every word they utter has weight. They have a say. They have influence.

And influence can simmer the greed of the ambition of those who sit and watch behind their desks, their flowery words directing the downward progress of the nation.

So, Zoren never understood why Anthony had to always follow power and–– authority.

Anthony just glared at him. “Your contempt for power and authority, Zoren, I can never understand. A society without authority declared by the people is a dead society,” he said as he swivelled on his feet, phasing through a flaming car that briefly flickered with binaries when his body touched it.

“And our society is filled with leaders out for their own, rather than the people they should serve,” Zoren said.

While the two of them whispered despite being a few spaces away from each other, both had adjusted their sense of hearing to still hear each other – even with all the chaos in the air.

Anthony briefly stopped, looking at a student in the distance who shook on the floor, watching the Ashen murder civilians around him. “It’s in the nature of men to be greedy. And it is because of our acknowledgement of our own nature that we have democracy. So if power ends up with the corrupt, and society fails as a result, then society deserves to burn. It is not our duty to play gods, Zoren. Do well to remember that.”

Zoren frowned at that, before flicking his finger, turning the surroundings black. He turned his attention back to the students.

Death… mirrored within their glazed eyes. Like those of a dead fish who just stopped struggling for the seas.

“No matter what we did. Humanity, once the apex of predators, have become the preys,” finally said Zoren. “But there was hope.”

Walls of wood and stones rose around them. “Small settlements appeared in remote locations. There was a hopeful attempt to rebuild. This is one of them – the Frontier of Hope – founded in 2038,” said Zoren. “The Dominion of Hope was named after this Frontier.”

He snapped his finger and they found themselves on Hope’s training ground. “Then in 2040, there were 15-year-old children who exhibited extraordinary abilities. The ability to manipulate the aether–– magic. They became known as the Awakened.”

The professor strolled to the students, joining them to watch a group of children with glowing crimson eyes equipped with iron swords seemingly aflame with grey flames – raw aether. “Sentinels. Awakened who use body-based magic.” Behind the Sentinels were other children with azure eyes who cast balls of raw aether. “Evokers. Those who use mind-based magic.”

They were guided by robed figures, their features hidden beneath the shadows of their hoods – wizards.

He paused the footage to a still. “Before we proceed, does anybody have any questions so far?” he asked, but the real reason for the pause was to allow the students a moment of mental rest before the brutality they were about to witness.

A student raised her hand. She’s one of the few who seemed very unaffected so far. Elise Levin, a Bloodliner. “Professor, why was it that the Awakened only showed up in 2040?”

He nodded in acknowledgement of the inquiry. A valid one. “Good question. As I said earlier, Miss Elise, 2040 was the 15th year of the war. Do you think this is a coincidence?”

Elise gasped before replying quietly. “They’re 15-years-old. That’s when we can unlock our soul cores. They… were born during the Descent,” she said.

Zoren corrected her. “Could, Miss Elise. Soul cores could only be unlocked at the age of 15. If it isn’t unlocked, then it remains dormant forever,” he said. It was a minor error, and most likely just a grammatical error on Elise’s part, as most people already know that. But a reminder doesn’t hurt for those who may not know.

“But you’re right. They were born during the Descent. At the time, there were those carrying babies in their wombs who got infected with the Xyz virus but did not turn. It is believed these children were the first Awakened. Or so at least, the wizards theorize.”

“Wizards. What about them, professor? We know they had their own society separate from ours even before the Descent. So, why did they only show up in 2040? They can manipulate the aether without a soul core or using a talus. And they can learn and use how many ever spells they want without any limitations. They should have been able to drive away the Ashen. So, why did they wait too long to help?” Elise’s tone sounded almost accusatory. At least she didn’t outright ask: How could the wizards be so selfish?

“You raise a good question, Miss Elise. I’m sure many of you here share the same sentiment,” he said before scanning the students. “Have you all ever asked yourselves. How was it that we weren’t wiped out even before the Awakened showed up?”

Of course, no one responded.

“The wizards and the military are actually not given the credit they deserve. We even lack footages of their effort in trying to make sure we did not go extinct in the first 15 years,” he added, before looking back to Elise, who raised her eyebrow.

“Three hundred years ago, we had Circle IV and Circle V wizards. They took down Ashen that the military cannot – dozens and dozens of high-grade and even multiple Calamity-grades like Argus. And some of those they couldn't kill have been sealed, but at the cost of the lives of those who sealed them," he said. "None of the higher Circle wizards survived.”

At this, Elise averted her gaze, and Zoren could see the light of realization in her eyes.

“But the Ashen were, and still are, far too numerous, so most of the wizards were wiped out in the initial stages of the war. And their population only dwindled since then. This is why there are only about 8,000 of them today. Not to mention it takes decades for a wizard to be combat-ready unlike the Awakened.”

“D-Decades?” asked Elise.

“It takes them decades of studies to learn spells the Awakened can learn in an instant through spell-imprinting. They have to study multiple fields of studies before they can even hope to begin learning magic. So, imagine the sacrifice they made. Decades of learning magic – not combat – just to die in the fog of war. It’s like a scientist choosing to become a soldier out of necessity and desperation.”

Elise whimpered.

Some students sniggered at her.

Zoren glared at them. “I speak not out of spite, but to provide understanding. Miss Elise, despite her reservations, tried her best to speak with respect and kept an open mind. THAT–– is the quality I seek from my students,” he said with a pause. “But I digress… let us continue. If any of you wish to leave, then feel free to do so. You won’t be in trouble, nor will it affect your enrolment.”

They all looked at each other. Some with tired, expectant gazes as if they were were hoping for somebody to take the lead.

Of course, there were the students who remained unfazed.

Niall, in particular, was smiling. “Let’s see who the cowards are.” His two lackeys laughed.

Zoren didn’t like this, so he cast a cold gaze upon the Locksmith boy. He wasn’t doing this to shame others, but to give them an option.

The Aetheric Path isn’t the only way to help humanity. Not to mention, that it is far more dangerous to have an Awakened who hesitates. Hesitation only leads to death.

And Niall may be from an influential family, but Zoren, and many professors, are titans in their own right. As Class IIIs, the Consortium of Awakened Academies is virtually un-influenced by those who throw their power or authority around.

Niall gulped and refused to meet his eyes.

No one walked out the door. But perhaps some of them will choose to back out later on.

“Next,” Zoren said as he changed the surroundings again.

The Frontier of Hope burned, as a group of Awakened were fighting a bunch of Ashen. The same Awakened who were training earlier.

They were doing well. Some students, their eyes burning with rage, even cheered as the Ashen were decimated by the dozens. But…

“Despite humanity trying to rebuild from the ashes, now with the help of the Awakened, it was not enough,” said Zoren as he continued to let the footage play out.

Initially, the footage should have already ended with the Awakened and the Frontier of Hope becoming symbols of hope. Followed by footage of the rise of the League and what it now looks like today.

But Zoren found the full footage of what happened next to the Frontier, even enhancing the voices of the characters to mimic a personal connection between them and the students.

“Go, Eric,” commanded a hooded wizard as he showered aether missiles toward a group of Ashen on the narrow street. “Take the children to the bunker. We’ll hold the line.”

“What? No, Master Dylan! What about…–”

An armoured Ashen managed to break through their defence line, crushing Dylan’s head in an instant. Wizards have no Shield. Even if Dylan did, that Ashen was a Grade D - equivalent to a Class II Awakened with an activated Aura.

Master Dylan wouldn’t have survived either way.

Eric widened his eyes and stiffened. Blood splashing against his face.

The Ashen was about to kill him too, but a group of Awakened stabbed it from all directions.

One of them nodded at Eric. “Go,” she said. “When you’re done at the bunker, head to the hospital. There are other Awakened out there. They can’t leave until everyone’s evacuated.”

Eric managed to get his bearing back and nodded. “Miss Lina…”

“It was an honour fighting with you, Eric.”

Eric pursed his lips, wiping the tear from his cheek, before rushing with the other Awakened who led the children away.

Looking back to his comrades who remained to cover their backs, more of them were slain.

Lina slew a group of Ashen with a single flourish of her sword, before briefly glancing at Eric from her peripherals, smiling with a nod. She mouthed: Survive.

Eric headed to the hospital and helped evacuate people. But in the end, even he perished after fighting until the end.

The footage came to another still, to an equally still room.