The Blank Screen

✦ Kael’s Trial ✦

Kael Arval strode forward with the swagger of a boy trying to hide his shaking hands.

His father, Archon Arval Nyx, leaned forward in the stands, eyes like knives.

Kael touched the Tree. The portal devoured him.

The screens lit: a black forest. Phantom Beasts slithered from the shadows.

His childhood terror. The one story everyone whispered about him.

His sword wavered. His knees nearly buckled. For a heartbeat, he looked five years old again, shivering in the dark.

The crowd murmured. Archon's exchanged sharp glances. Arval’s jaw clenched.

And then Kael roared. His blade flashed, arcs of steel and fury. One beast fell. Then another. Until the forest collapsed into light.

The Tree answered.

Crimson leaves — Fire.

violet-white arcs — Lightning.

The air itself cracked as his veins obeyed both flame and storm.

Then came something else.

A single gold shimmer flared across his chest — faint but alive — like his very soul exhaled in awe.

The Tree only reflected his elemental hues, but the gold came from within.

Not light… awareness.
Every soul in the arena felt it, even if they couldn’t name it.

The mark of something beyond elements — a Soul-born spark.

Lightning crowned him like a halo made of fury.

The Arena erupted. Choristers shouted praises. Nobles clapped like their hands could buy glory.

Whispers darted through the stands — this kind of awakening hadn’t happened in decades.

Fire, lightning, and a Gift all at once.

Kael stumbled out pale, barely caught by attendants. His lips curled into a bloodless smirk.

“He bears two elements — and a Soul-born spark,” a scholar whispered, voice trembling.

“That’s… Shadowbound level.”

The word rippled through the terraces — a title for those who carried more than Heaven intended.

“A Shadowbound at his age? That’s beyond prodigy.”

Kael’s gaze flicked toward me — tired, proud, almost defiant.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.

That look said it all: Catch up, Prince.

The name Kael Arval was already being etched into rumor like prophecy.

I muttered, “Perfect. Now he has lightning and an ego boost. The world trembles.”

But inside, my chest twisted. He had faced his fear and beaten it. Could I?

Archons glanced from Kael’s glory to the royal stand, whispering, “Will the Prince match him?”

✦ Lyra’s Trial ✦

Then came Lyra.

The crowd hushed as if Heaven itself leaned closer. Even the wind froze.

She touched the Tree. The portal claimed her.

The screens lit: a storm. Winds howled. Frost climbed the ground.

Shapes formed in the ice — fallen friends, silent faces she couldn’t reach.

Every step toward them shattered the ground further, the cold biting her skin as if the world itself rejected her touch.

At the center, Lyra glowed faint green.

She lifted her hands. The winds bent, softened. Another gesture — frost spiraled, sculpting towers of ice.

Then came the light: silver-gold healing spilling warmth, weaving into the storm until it calmed like a tamed beast.

The Tree blazed twofold: green leaves for Wind, silver-blue leaves for Ice.

Then — a new radiance, not from the Tree, but from her — a gold aura unfurling around her frame, rhythmic, pulsing once with every breath she took.

It wasn’t brightness — it was warmth, reaching the spectators like a heartbeat they could feel through the air.

The Tree had recognized her Soul-born spark — quiet, healing, alive.

“Another dual-harmonic…” one of the High Deities murmured.

“Wind, ice, and a healing Soul-born flow… that’s Shadowbound as well.”

“Two in the same generation?” a Archon gasped. “Heaven hasn’t seen that since the Age of Crowns.”

The title echoed through the terraces like a sacred verdict — Shadowbound.

The Arena thundered. Archons scribbled. Priests sang “prodigy.”

Shock rippled sharper than applause — two multi-awakenings in the same ceremony? Veterans muttered it was unheard of in generations.

First Kael. Now Lyra. Heaven itself seemed to tilt.

Whispers spread like wildfire:

“Four already… an omen year.”

“Heaven’s producing more dual harmonics than ever.”

I clapped too, tighter than I should’ve.
“Oh sure, Lyra. Rewrite the weather, heal the storm, casually juggle elements like it’s arts and crafts. Totally fair.”

She emerged pale, hair damp with sweat, but smiling steady. Her eyes found mine.

“Your turn, Haise.”

And I swore the Tree pulsed harder at her words.

✦ The Heir Steps Forward ✦

Silence. Not quiet — silence.

Every noble, soldier, Archon, Everyone and priest turned toward me. The Son of the God King. The heir.

Whispers: “The Prince of Heaven steps forward…”

Voices trembled across the Arena: “Prince Haise… the Prince of Heaven…”

My mouth was sand-dry. Sarcasm tried to save me.

Great. No pressure. Just walk into a world tree and either become a legend or the kingdom’s biggest disappointment. Easy.

The Tree pulsed faint gold. Waiting.

My mother, Yumi, leaned forward in the royal stand. Her knuckles white, her lips trembling, but her eyes steady: Whatever it takes, my son.

My father didn’t move. Didn’t need to.

His presence pressed heavier than mountains.

His vow coiled around me: ripple the world.

For the first time, the God King’s gaze flickered — not command, not pride, but something like recognition … or confusion.

The Tree’s light faltered beneath his gaze — as if even divinity wasn’t sure what it had made.

Then Tenjin looked away — not because he chose to, but because the Heart did.

For a fleeting instant, something foreign crossed his eyes — not command, not divinity. A flicker of… uncertainty. As if the King of Heaven had glimpsed something that even gods weren’t meant to understand.

I stepped forward. Each step echoed louder than the crowd’s cheers for Kael and Lyra combined.

The bark was warm, alive, like the chest of a sleeping giant.

The Tree trembled — not in rejection, not in acceptance — but in recognition, as though it had been waiting for this touch

“The portal of light breathed open — a mouth in the world’s heart.”

The crowd leaned forward. The sky-screens flared—

And froze.

✦ The Blank Screen ✦

Static. Nothing.

Gasps sliced the silence.

“Why can’t we see?”
“Is the Prince… rejected?” someone whispered. “Impossible…” another hissed.”

My mother’s hand flew to her mouth.

Her eyes wide with panic. My father’s jaw tightened, golden sparks burning faint around him.

Archons whispered sharp, venomous. Soldiers shifted uneasily.

And in the stands, Archon Arval’s eyes narrowed. His lips curved, a smirk barely hidden behind his hand.

The heir falters. Perhaps the whispers will turn to me.

But the screens stayed blank.

Only the Tree glowed, swallowing me whole.

The last thing I saw: my mother’s tears, my father’s blazing eyes.

Then the hymns fractured — one note off-key.

A single harmonic glitch echoed through the arena; the sky-screens convulsed, light bending backward as if sound itself had been reversed.

The resonance system screamed once — then went silent.

A ripple passed through Heaven itself — halos flickered, wings dimmed, even the Aegis of the Sun above the dome faltered for a single breath.

Every watcher felt it, that wrong note echoing in their veins. The kind of silence that remembers being sound.

The Tree read every soul — except one.

Far above, the Crystal Heart pulsed once — a single tremor through every vein of Heaven.

Choristers gasped; their hymns faltered for half a breath.

Then stillness returned, too quiet, as if the universe itself had decided to hold its breath.

Mine. Its light wavered like it couldn’t decide if I belonged to Heaven… or something older.

And me thinking:
“Oh sure. Blank screen. Technical difficulties during my big moment. Classic.”

The light rippled once—like breath turning to glass—then vanished.

And then—darkness.

✦ Into the Unknown ✦

The crowd screamed. The leaves stayed still. The screens blank.

But me?

I was gone.

Into the heart of the Tree.
Into the secret no one else could see.

Whatever waited inside was mine alone to face.

Me? All I thought as the portal swallowed me was:

“Fantastic. Blank screen, mysterious silence, half the crowd panicking. Exactly the subtle entrance I was going for.”

End of chapter 12 - The Trial of Awakening: The Blank Screen