The barracks felt more like a holding pen than a place for rest, a cold and sterile space.

  There were only rows and rows of simple wooden bunks, empty and clean, as if they had been aired out mere minutes before they entered. The air was thick with the weight of dozens of different lives, yet none of them truly connected.

  Akira’s eyes swept the room, instinctively avoiding prolonged contact with anyone’s gaze.

  He wasn’t here to make friends. He couldn’t afford the luxury.

  The noise in the room buzzed like a swarm of insects, with conversations spilling over one another. Some spoke eagerly about their Selection Trial, boasting of their victories, their rewards, the powers they had gained. Others tried to initiate connections, offering introductions with the hope of finding camaraderie in this unfamiliar place.

  But Akira moved past it all, purposefully. He couldn’t be a part of their conversations, couldn’t allow himself to get drawn into their casual exchange of pleasantries. His gaze darted around the room until he found a dark corner, nestled as far away from the others as possible.

  This would be his spot, the shadows felt safer, less exposed. Here, he could be invisible, isolated, even if it meant being alone.

  He sank down onto his new ‘bed’. A thin mattress of straw wrapped in threadbare cloth, though, who was he to complain? It was much better than the cold dirt next to a fire or the warm and sickly smelling inside of a monster’s rotting corpse.

  He let out a long breath, the weight of the past few days pressing heavily on him.

  The voices around him continued to swell. He could hear the slapping of feet against the wood floor, the creak of bedframes being seated, and the murmurs of people settling in. It wasn’t long before the others began to claim their spots, gravitating toward those they had already spoken with outside. It was the natural tendency to find some familiarity in the unknown, to seek out comfort where it was offered.

  For Akira, there was no one. No one would come close to him. He knew that much, and he preferred it that way.

  A voice rang out above the others, strong and commanding. "For one week, I and my companions will show you what the world you now inhabit is about. We’ll teach you about your newfound powers, your Heart Core, and what to expect in the First Trial. After that, it’s up to you." Oliver, a figure who seemed to be pretty important in the First Sanctuary, spoke with an air of finality.

  His words hung in the air for a moment before he and his companions turned and left the barracks, leaving the ‘Hatchlings’, those new to this world and who had only recently awakened their powers, to their own devices.

  Akira sat on the edge of his mattress, his body slumped as he took in the scene. The barracks had already begun to settle into a strange rhythm, a murmur of voices fading into a lull.

  Everyone else seemed to know their place, their direction. But for Akira, there was only a hollow sense of displacement. The others found their places next to the people they had already begun to trust, or at least speak to. However Akira was a shadow. His nearest neighbor was three bunks away, and that felt like kilometers.

  The process of settling in had been swift, nobody had any belongings, no ties to drag them down. The first reward had done its job. None were hungry, all filled with energy, and at least physically capable of enduring whatever came next. It was a brief respite, yet Akira couldn’t shake the feeling that he was an outsider in this strange new world.

  He could feel the glances that fell on him, the lingering stares that tried to piece together the strange boy sitting so far away from the rest.

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  His appearance, a gaunt, hollow figure with matted black hair, was enough to make anyone wonder.

  His weakness was plain to see, and he understood that. He had no strength to offer, no value to weigh against their own. His isolation wasn’t just a choice, it was a consequence of the way he looked, the way he carried himself.

  People wanted to be surrounded by others who had something to offer, those who could help them survive, not someone who looked like he would crumble under the weight of a strong breeze.

  However this worked out perfectly for him, he could hide in this disguise of weakness and nobody would pay much attention to him.

  He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos of his thoughts. The sound of a pair of footsteps closed in to where Akira was. A young man, around twenty years old perhaps, paused by his bunk.

  The man stood at an impressive 185 cm tall, he had an aura of rugged charisma and command. His curly brown hair was tousled, complementing a stubble beard that adds to his mature and distinguished look.

  His deep blue eyes, reminiscent of a stormy sea, held a fierce, adventurous spirit that reflected his love for exploration and challenge.

  With olive, sun-kissed skin spoke of countless outdoor adventures and battles against the elements. His sharp, defined features, strong jawline and high cheekbones give him a natural air of leadership and authority. His presence is both commanding and approachable.

  Just like Akira, he wore a white tunic, but unlike Akira. The man was as muscular as a Greek god.

  The young man extended his hand with a warm, genuine smile that lacked any hint of ulterior motives. It was the kind of smile that conveyed sincerity, a smile that didn’t try too hard but instead seemed to come naturally, as though the simple act of greeting was something he was at ease with.

  “Yo, I’m Leonidas.” Leonidas said, his voice rich and inviting, the warmth of it tempered with an underlying confidence that made it clear he didn’t need to impress anyone. It wasn’t arrogant, but it was undeniable. “You got a name?”

  Akira hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond. “Akira.” He muttered, barely more than a whisper, the words slipping from his mouth like an afterthought. His gaze remained steady on Leonidas’s eyes, not challenging, but acknowledging him, assessing, trying to understand this stranger who had so freely extended his hand.

  Leonidas didn’t seem fazed by the quiet, the awkwardness in the air. Instead, his grin widened, and he sat down casually on the bunk next to Akira’s, his posture relaxed yet confident. The expression softened his features, despite the powerful build he carried.

  “Akira, huh?” Leonidas chuckled lightly, as if the name itself was amusing. His hands resting on his knees. “That’s a strong name. So, what do you say? Want to be friends with me?”

  The directness of the offer caught Akira off guard.

  For a split second, he considered outright rejecting the idea, but he realized that Leonidas wasn’t the type to take no for an answer. The way the man carried himself left little room for disagreement.

  Akira exhaled a sigh, his thoughts swirling. He could already sense the man’s persistence. So, instead of an outright rejection, he chose the next best thing, pretending.

  “I… I don’t know.” Akira started, his voice quivering. “I’m pretty weak, so I’ll probably just drag you down. Plus, my Trait isn’t any use in combat.” He hunched in on himself slightly, hoping the pitiful posture would reinforce the image he wanted to project, a useless individual not worth anyone’s time.

  Leonidas didn’t seem to be deterred. His chuckle was genuine, unbothered by Akira’s attempt at pushing him away. The man’s gaze softened, and he leaned back slightly, his smile never faltering. “Maybe, but even so. I still wanna team up with you.”

  Akira could feel the annoyance beginning to churn inside him, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior.

  This guy… He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to snap. It was clear now, Leonidas wasn’t going to back off. He was one of those people who thrived on persistence, on breaking down walls, no matter how thick or high. The anger was there, simmering just under the surface, but Akira kept it in check.

  “By the way.” Leonidas continued, as if sensing the moment. “I got an Epithet. So, I’m strong enough to protect the both of us if necessary.” His tone was easy, matter-of-fact, but there was a glint in his eyes, something that spoke of pride and perhaps a touch of playfulness, as though he was looking forward to explaining himself.

  Akira’s brow furrowed. “An Epithet? What’s that?” He asked, the question escaping his lips almost instinctively. His curiosity was piqued, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of wariness.

  Leonidas seemed pleased by the question, his smile widening just a bit more as if he had been waiting for this moment.