The Failure’s Awakening

The pain came first. A heavy, crushing weight in her chest, like she had drowned in her sleep.

Serenya gasped, eyes snapping open.

She wasn’t in her tiny Tokyo apartment anymore. The ceiling above her was carved from white marble and engraved with glowing runes. The sheets beneath her were silk, the color of moonlight, and her body… was not her body.

Her hands were pale, delicate, adorned with a faint shimmer of magic that flickered and died almost instantly. Her reflection in the tall mirror across the room showed a girl with silver hair braided elegantly over one shoulder and sharp violet eyes that seemed to hold more contempt than warmth.

Fragments of memory slammed into her mind.

Serenya Arclight. Daughter of the prestigious House Arclight, one of the Four Archmage families who ruled magic itself. A family famed for their command over elemental sorcery—firestorms, tidal waves, winds sharp enough to carve mountains.

And yet… the youngest daughter, Serenya, was known only for one thing.

Failure.

The disappointment. The useless heir. The girl whose magic fizzled, backfired, or did nothing at all.

The memory of her death in the modern world flickered briefly—a late night at work, exhaustion, the screech of tires—and then nothing. And now this.

“I’ve been… what is this…. reincarnated?” she whispered, her voice softer, higher than she remembered, as she palmed her face in disbelief.

The door burst open. A maid bowed so deeply her forehead nearly touched the floor.

“Lady Serenya, the carriage is ready. Today is the entrance examination at Arclight Academy. Your family awaits you outside.”

Entrance exam. Right. In the story belonging to this body, this was where her humiliation began. She would fail spectacularly before the entire academy, forever cementing her reputation.

Serenya inhaled deeply. In her past life, she’d always been ordinary. Overworked, overlooked, just another face in the crowd. She hadn’t been given talent, status, or wealth. But now? Now she was the “failure” of a family that ruled the world.

Her lips curved into a smirk. “Then, let’s see if this failure can play the game differently.”

✦

The academy gates loomed ahead like the jaws of a beast—black iron laced with protective wards, shimmering faintly in the sun. Nobles and their children arrived in gilded carriages, magic crackling around them in displays of power.

When the Arclight carriage rolled in, whispers filled the air.

“There she is—the failed heir.”
“Her sister, Lady Liora, already mastered high-tier fire by her first year.”
“But Serenya? She can’t even conjure a spark.”

Serenya kept her chin high. Let them talk.

And then, she saw her.

Celestia Dawncrest.

The Dawncrest’s family golden child, dressed in white and gold robes that gleamed like sunlight. Blonde hair, flawless smile, and eyes like polished sapphires. The academy’s shining star even before her official entrance. Students clustered around her, laughing at her every word, basking in her glow.

Serenya’s memories filled in the rest. Celestia wasn’t just beloved—she was the heroine of this tale. And Serenya was the foil, the rival meant to crumble in her shadow.

Their eyes met across the courtyard. Celestia’s smile softened, warm and polite—yet Serenya saw it. A flicker of superiority hidden behind such smiles.

Serenya smirked back. We’ll see who’s pitiful.

✦

The exam has two types; written and magic demonstration. Serenya knows that she can pass the first one, but the second one is quite tricky. Students must demonstrate one’s elemental affinity before the archmage professors. Like fire, water, wind, earth, which every noble had one.

One by one, students stepped up, conjuring flame, whirlwinds, shimmering barriers, and applause followed each of their dazzling displays.

Then it was Serenya’s turn.

The whispers grew louder. “This will be good.” “The failure’s big moment.”

Serenya stepped into the circle, palms sweaty. She remembered what had happened in the story, she tried to conjure fire, failed, and was laughed out of the hall.

But she wasn’t going to follow the script.

Closing her eyes, she reached inward. She expected the tug of fire, the cool rush of water perhaps, the sharp clarity of wind maybe—but what answered her wasn’t any of those elements.

It was emptiness. A deep, endless silence that thrummed in her bones. Not fire, not water, not anything the academy had words for.

She raised her hand. Then, the silence pulsed outward—and the magic circle beneath her feet shattered like glass.

Gasps erupted. Professors leapt to their feet. Students stumbled back as sparks of unstable magic skittered across the room.

Serenya opened her eyes. A faint awkward smile curved her lips. “Oh. Did I break it?”

For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Not even a single mockery can be heard.

Then, from the crowd, Celestia muttered a silent, “Impossible…” A word only she could hear.

All of the sudden, their gazes locked again. Serenya gave a small smile, a simple bow for her performance, and walked out of the stage.