Broken Star!

[Ding!] [Progress… 100%.]

Ren shot up, his heart pounding as the mechanical voice echoed in his mind. The room was dark, save for the faint moonlight seeping through the window. His breathing came in sharp, shallow gasps, his hands clutching the bed's coarse blanket.

'What… what was that?'

His eyes darted around the room, his pulse pounding in his ears. The wooden beams of the ceiling were still there. The faint creak of floorboards as the house settled hadn't changed. Everything looked as it should—but the voice lingered in his mind, unnatural and precise.

Suddenly, a faint glow appeared before him. His breath caught as a translucent blue screen materialized out of thin air.

[Choose your first element.]

Ren froze. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. "This… this isn't real," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. "I'm just hallucinating. The wolf's toxin… it has to be the wolf's toxin."

He rubbed his face, his palms clammy. The glow of the screen remained, unyielding in its clarity. It felt too vivid to ignore, yet too absurd to accept. With a frustrated groan, he threw himself back onto the bed, pulling the blanket over his head.

'It's not real. It's not real,' he chanted inwardly, willing himself to sleep. His muscles were tense, and his mind buzzed with unease, but exhaustion began to claim him.

CRACK!

A jolt of searing pain shot through his entire body. Ren screamed, clutching his chest as his back arched involuntarily. His heart raced wildly as he tumbled off the bed and onto the wooden floor with a dull thud.

"Argh! What—what's happening!?" he cried, his voice trembling.

The blue screen reappeared, but this time, its glow was an angry red. The air around it seemed to ripple, oppressive and heavy.

[Choose your first element in 20 seconds or you will die.]

Ren's blood ran cold. "D-die?!" he stammered, his voice cracking. His eyes darted across the screen as a list of options appeared:

[Mana] [Qi] [Aura] [Chakra] [Nen]

His hands trembled uncontrollably, his mind spiraling into chaos. "What the hell is this? What do I do?!"

The timer appeared at the bottom of the screen, each second ticking away with ruthless precision.

[19]

[18]

[17]

Sweat dripped down his face as he struggled to make sense of it all. The words were foreign, their meanings fragmented pieces of things he'd heard in passing. He didn't know what half of them even meant, let alone which one he should choose.

'This can't be real. But… if it is—'

[10]

The numbers glowed brighter, the pressure suffocating. Ren felt his throat tighten, his breath hitching as panic clawed at him. His vision blurred, and his chest heaved.

"Mana!" he shouted, slamming his hand onto the first option he could reach. He didn't think. He couldn't afford to. His survival instincts roared louder than his doubt.

For a moment, everything went still. The oppressive weight in the air dissipated, and Ren exhaled shakily, his chest heaving. "I… I did it," he whispered. "I'm alive."

But his relief was short-lived.

A sharp, piercing pain erupted in his chest, as if a thousand needles were being driven into his heart all at once. Ren screamed, his voice raw and unrestrained. His hands clawed at his shirt, his body convulsing as the pain radiated outward.

Something warm and foreign coursed through his veins—a current of energy that pulsed and twisted as if it had a will of its own. It wasn't blood. It was denser, heavier, and searingly hot. The sensation spread to every corner of his body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His muscles tensed, and his vision swam with blinding light.

"Make it stop!" Ren begged, tears streaming down his face. His cries filled the small room, but there was no answer—only the relentless surge of power that threatened to tear him apart.

The world tilted violently, the edges of his vision darkening. With one last, agonized gasp, Ren collapsed onto the floor. His body stilled, his breathing shallow as the light around him dimmed.

And then… silence.

Ren's unconscious form lay motionless, his hand still outstretched toward the faintly glowing screen. The red light flickered one last time before disappearing into the darkness.

***

Ren bolted upright, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. The faint, mechanical voice from the night before echoed in his mind, clear as a bell despite the morning light flooding his room.

[Ding!] [Progress… 100%.]

His heart raced as his wide eyes darted around the modest room. The rough, wooden walls seemed to lean closer than before, their warm, earthy tones now an unwelcome reminder of his confined space. Shadows stretched across the planked floor, swaying in rhythm with the curtains rippling in the soft morning breeze.

"What the hell was that?" Ren muttered, his voice hoarse, cracking with disbelief.

Memories of the previous night surged forward: the surreal blue screen, the countdown, the overwhelming pain as something alien coursed through his body. His hands instinctively went to his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady but strange—as if it belonged to someone else.

Ren shifted his legs, but the rustle of fabric against his skin gave him pause. He looked down and froze. His body, now visible in the light of day, was caked with a thin, tar-like substance. Black streaks clung to his arms and chest, and even the coarse blanket was smeared with grime.

"Ugh… I smell," Ren grimaced, his nose crinkling in disgust. The acrid stench of sweat and something far worse assaulted his senses. He peeled the blanket off, gagging slightly as he inspected his soiled clothes.

"What happened to me?" he whispered. His mind tried to rationalize the bizarre events, but the more he thought, the more his body felt alien—less like his own.

Then, as if answering his unspoken question, a faint hum filled the air, followed by the reappearance of the translucent blue screen.

Name: Ren Takamura

Race: Xenos

Age: 16 yrs 1 month old

Job: None

Cultivation: None

Strength: 1 | Agility: 1.6

Stamina: 0.9 | Defense: 1

Focus: 0.6 | Mana: 0.4

Passive Skills: None

Active Skills: None

Ren's breath caught. The screen floated mere inches from his face, its faint glow casting an ethereal light. He reached out slowly, his hand trembling, and brushed against it. The surface rippled like water, sending tiny shocks of energy up his arm. It felt real.

"This… this isn't a hallucination," he murmured, pulling his hand back as if the screen would bite him.

His eyes darted to the word Xenos, and an uneasy silence filled the room. "I already guessed I wasn't human," Ren said aloud, his voice tinged with resignation. "But I'm not a demon-elf hybrid… I'm a Xenos?"

The word felt heavy, unfamiliar. He stared at it, his thoughts spiraling as he tried to piece together its meaning. "What the hell is a Xenos?" he muttered, his frustration mounting. His tail twitched involuntarily, a reminder of the alien body he now inhabited.

Shaking his head, Ren forced himself to focus. "Wait… Didn't I pass out on the floor? How am I back on the bed?"

As if in response to his question, the door creaked open. Bell stepped in, balancing a wooden bucket filled with water in one hand and a set of neatly folded clothes in the other. His green eyes narrowed as he spotted Ren sitting upright.

"Oh, you're finally awake?" Bell said, his tone casual but edged with curiosity.

"Yeah…" Ren croaked, his throat dry.

Bell sighed heavily, setting the bucket down near the bed. "You seriously freaked me out last night. Screaming like hell and then fainting? Not exactly normal behavior." He plopped onto a nearby chair, his posture slack. "Had to carry you back to bed, by the way. Do you have any idea how heavy you are?"

Ren winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to cause trouble."

"Yeah, yeah," Bell waved dismissively. His expression shifted as he leaned back in the chair, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Just don't pull that again. My back can't handle it."

Ren chuckled weakly, but his thoughts remained on the screen still hovering in his vision. Deciding to test something, he pointed at it and asked, "Bell… can you see this?"

Bell raised an eyebrow. "See what?"

Ren's heart sank, the realization dawning on him. 'So only I can see it, huh…' He shook his head quickly and muttered, "Never mind."

Bell didn't press further. He stood, grabbing the bucket and clothes. "Well, whatever weirdness is going on, you reek. Go take a bath before the training camp starts. You'll scare everyone off with that stench."

Ren sniffed his arm and grimaced again. "Yeah, I noticed."

Bell handed him the bucket and the clothes, his nose wrinkling. "Here. The bathroom's through that door," he said, pointing to a small, wooden door in the corner of the room. "Oh, and…"

Ren paused, glancing back.

Bell smirked, covering his nose dramatically. "I sense mana from you. You must've awakened it somehow, and your body expelled all its impurities. Lucky you."

Ren blinked, his mind flashing back to the excruciating process of the night before. "So… this is because of that?" he muttered, gesturing to his grime-covered body.

"Probably," Bell replied nonchalantly. "Happens to everyone who awakens mana. Anyway, get cleaned up. I'll be waiting outside." He turned to leave, adding over his shoulder, "And since we both have mana now, we don't need to eat!"

Ren froze, clutching his head. "Wait… You're saying no food!?"

Bell chuckled as he exited, the sound of the door closing punctuating his amusement.

Ren sighed, the realization of no food settling in. "No food… Great," he muttered, rubbing his temples. His body still ached from the strange transformation, but he pushed himself off the bed, grabbing the bucket and clothes.

He walked toward the wooden door Bell had indicated earlier. The room beyond was small and functional, with wooden walls and a simple stone basin serving as a makeshift sink. A mirror hung lopsidedly on the wall above it, its surface slightly warped but clear enough to reflect his image.

Ren set the bucket on the ground and took a deep breath, looking at himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, disheveled and grimy. Black streaks of impurity clung to his skin like tar, and his hair stuck out at odd angles. He leaned closer, studying his own features. The long, elf-like ears and the sleek tail were constant reminders of his alien form.

"So this is me now…" he murmured, running a hand through his hair.

He dipped his hand into the bucket and began washing off the grime. The cool water stung slightly against his skin, but it felt refreshing as it removed the filth from his body. Gradually, his natural skin tone reemerged, and the sticky, dark substance disappeared.

After scrubbing himself clean, Ren grabbed the set of clothes Bell had provided. The fabric was coarse but sturdy—a peach-colored shirt, simple trousers, and a leather belt with a buckle to hold his sword in place. The outfit was practical, fitting the medieval aesthetic of his new reality.

Once dressed, Ren attached the sheathed sword to his side, testing its weight. The scabbard felt foreign against his hip, but it also brought a strange sense of reassurance.

Stepping back into the main room, Ren took a deep breath. The earthy scent of the wooden walls mixed with the faint aroma of morning dew drifting in through the window. Bell was waiting outside, leaning casually against the wall of the house.

***

Bell straightened as Ren stepped out. His brown hair glinted in the morning light, and his sharp green eyes scanned Ren up and down. "Much better. I was starting to think you'd never come out."

"Yeah, well," Ren replied, adjusting his belt, "I had a lot to clean off."

Bell smirked. "I'll say. You smelled like a swamp monster."

"Thanks for the confidence boost," Ren deadpanned, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.

The two began walking toward the adventurer's guild, the cobblestone streets of the quiet district beneath their feet. The early morning air was crisp, carrying with it the faint hum of activity in the distance.

As they walked, Ren hesitated before speaking. "Hey, Bell… Why aren't you afraid of me?"

Bell glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. "Afraid of you? Why would I be?"

"You've seen how people look at me," Ren said, his voice quieter. "At the city gate, at the camp… They see my tail, my ears, and suddenly I'm a demon spawn."

Bell's expression softened. "People are idiots, Ren. They see something different, and they freak out. It's easier for them to hate than to understand."

Ren looked down, his tail flicking behind him. "Still… you didn't flinch. Not once."

"That's because I'm not an idiot," Bell said with a shrug. "You're not a demon, Ren. You're just… you. A weird, clueless, pain-in-the-ass guy who screams in his sleep and wakes up covered in black goop."

Ren stared at him for a moment before breaking into a laugh. "Gee, thanks."

Bell grinned. "You're welcome."

They walked in companionable silence for a while, the adventurer's guild coming into view ahead. The large, timber-framed building was bustling with activity. Adventurers in various states of gear milled about the entrance, their laughter and banter spilling into the street.

Inside the guild, the air buzzed with energy. A large reception hall stretched before them, lined with wooden pillars and furnished with long tables where adventurers exchanged stories over mugs of ale. The walls were adorned with hunting trophies—massive, gleaming horns, scales as big as shields, and framed maps of explored regions.

At the far end of the hall stood a desk manned by a brown-haired receptionist. She glanced up as Bell and Ren approached, her sharp eyes taking them in.

"We're here for the training camp," Bell said, his tone casual but polite.

The receptionist looked them over, her gaze lingering on Ren's tail for a moment before she gestured toward a large wooden door at the end of the hall. "Through there," she said curtly.

As Ren and Bell stepped through the large wooden doors at the Adventurers' Guild, they were immediately greeted by the sight of a packed hall. Teenagers roughly their age were gathered in clusters, some chatting nervously, others brimming with overconfidence. The air was heavy with tension, the kind that accompanies unspoken rivalries and high stakes. Ren's sharp eyes scanned the room, but his attention was quickly drawn to the stares directed at him.

A ripple of whispers coursed through the crowd.

"Is that… a demon?"

"What's he doing here? Shouldn't they keep his kind out?"

Ren clenched his fists, his tail swaying behind him in irritation. He could feel their eyes burning into him, their words biting like cold steel. His jaw tightened as he forced himself to look straight ahead. Bell walked beside him, unfazed, his usual easy demeanor intact.

Bell glanced sideways at Ren. "Ignore them," he murmured. "They'll stop once they get tired of gossiping."

Ren nodded silently, though the whispers cut deeper than he let on. He wondered if the prejudice would ever stop—or if it was something he'd have to carry with him for the rest of his life. The title "demon's spawn" echoed in his mind like a cruel chant, and he shoved it aside, refusing to let it linger.

At the front of the hall was a raised stage. The wooden floor creaked as a middle-aged man stepped onto it, his presence immediately commanding attention. He had dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders and a lean, muscular build. His sharp eyes scanned the room, and his voice, when he spoke, was both authoritative and resolute.

"Welcome," the instructor began, his voice carrying over the murmurs. The room fell silent, save for the occasional shuffle of feet. "You all stand here today because you've chosen to prove yourselves. This training camp isn't for the faint of heart. Over the next four months, you'll face challenges that will test your strength, your wits, and your will to endure."

Ren glanced around, noting how many of the other participants straightened up, their eyes shining with determination. He frowned. Just what am I getting into? he wondered.

"The training camp is designed not only to refine your abilities but to prepare you for the world beyond these walls," the instructor continued. "However, before we begin, we need to evaluate each of you. This test will allow us to gauge your current abilities and determine the best way to guide your training."

Ren's confusion deepened. He leaned slightly toward Bell. "What is this place?" he whispered. "And why is everyone acting like this training camp is some golden opportunity?"

Bell arched an eyebrow, seemingly surprised. "You really don't know?" he asked quietly. "This is the gateway to Eldralis Academy."

Ren's blank stare prompted Bell to elaborate. "Eldralis is the most prestigious academy in the Velnar Kingdom. Graduating from there is basically a ticket to greatness—elite guilds, high-ranking military positions, you name it."

Ren frowned, processing the information. It seemed that even here, in this strange new world, societal systems dictated the paths people could take. But unlike his old life, where academics and wealth opened doors, here it was raw ability. Or so it seemed.

The instructor's voice broke through Ren's thoughts. "As always, the top three participants at the end of this training camp will receive a free two-year scholarship to Eldralis Academy. This is an opportunity to secure your future—to bring honor to yourselves, your families, and to our founding father, the Great Hero Haruto."

At the mention of the Great Hero, the instructor signaled to the side, and a gust of wind magic lifted the curtain behind him. Slowly, it revealed a towering steel statue. Its metallic surface gleamed under the magical lighting, showcasing a figure clad in intricately detailed armor, a sword held aloft in a triumphant pose.

The room erupted into applause, participants clapping fervently at the sight. But Ren froze.

His eyes locked onto the statue, and the world around him seemed to blur. The face—the sharp, familiar features—it was unmistakable. The statue wasn't just of a hero. It was Haruto. His Haruto.

Ren's heart raced, and he stumbled back a step, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Memories of that day flooded his mind—the collapsing school, Haruto's desperate attempt to save him. He clutched his chest as if trying to still the chaotic rhythm of his heart.

He's here… He survived… But how?

"Ren?" Bell's voice cut through his thoughts, grounding him. "You okay?"

Ren blinked, forcing himself to focus. He tore his gaze away from the statue, his face pale but his resolve hardening. "Yeah," he muttered. "I'm fine."

The instructor continued as though nothing had happened, unaware of Ren's inner turmoil. With a flick of his wrist, a shimmering portal materialized at the center of the stage, its edges glowing with faint blue light.

"This is your first challenge," the instructor announced, his tone taking on a harder edge. "Beyond this portal lies an enclosed arena designed to test you in every way. You will be tasked with collecting Victory Orbs scattered throughout the battlefield. Bring one to the central tower to secure your place in the training camp. You are allowed to take orbs from others, but killing is strictly forbidden."

A murmur spread through the crowd as the participants digested the rules.

"You will each be given a basic sword for the test. Forming teams is allowed, but know this: the more orbs you collect, the better resources you'll receive during the training camp. Elixirs, training materials, advanced guidance—these go to the top three participants."

The instructor's gaze swept over the crowd, his expression unreadable. "Prove your worth. Show us what you're made of. Make our founding father, the Great Hero Haruto, proud."

The instructor then raised his hand, signaling to someone offstage. Slowly, the large curtain began to rise, revealing a newly crafted steel statue. The figure was depicted holding a sword aloft, his stance exuding both pride and command. The crowd gasped, breaking into applause that filled the air like a wave. Ren's breath caught.

His gaze locked onto the face of the statue, and the world seemed to narrow. Every detail of the figure—sharp features, focused eyes, a stance brimming with unshakable resolve—was unmistakable. It was Haruto. An older, hardened version of him, but Haruto all the same.

The applause faded into a distant hum as Ren stared. His chest tightened, and a cold chill spread through his veins. His mind scrambled for answers, grasping at logic. No. It can't be. It's just a coincidence. It has to be. But the image before him made denial impossible. The resemblance wasn't vague or distant—it was undeniable, and it ripped through him like a blade.

Ren clenched his fists at his sides. His nails pressed into his palms, grounding him as his thoughts spiraled. If he's alive… how? A wave of confusion washed over him, followed swiftly by something heavier—an ache that settled deep in his chest.

His jaw tightened as another thought pierced through the noise. Did he survive like I did? Did he have to claw his way through the same nightmare? Or did something else save him—someone else? The questions gnawed at him, each one more unsettling than the last.

His hands trembled slightly, and for a moment, he felt unmoored. It wasn't anger, not fully—it was the weight of uncertainty, of facing a truth he wasn't sure he was ready to confront. If you're alive, Haruto… what have you been doing all this time?

He inhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. His heartbeat roared in his ears, and he realized how tightly wound he'd become. Get it together, he told himself. Now isn't the time.

"Ren."

Bell's voice was quieter this time but carried an edge of concern. Ren blinked, snapping out of his trance. His fists relaxed, and he flexed his fingers to shake off the lingering tension.

"I'm fine," Ren said quickly, though his voice betrayed the effort it took to sound composed.

Bell's searching gaze lingered on him, but he didn't press. "The portal's opening soon. We should get ready."

Ren's gaze flicked back to the statue. The applause had subsided, the crowd turning their attention to the next announcement. But Ren's thoughts remained on the figure—the impossibility of it, the weight of the memories it dragged back to the surface.

He exhaled, forcing himself to look away. If it really is you, Haruto… I'll find out. Not now. But one day.

"Let's go," Ren said, his voice firmer now. Bell nodded, and the two of them stepped toward the forming portal.

As the glow of the spatial magic illuminated the hall, Ren cast one last glance over his shoulder at the statue. The image lingered in his mind, but he pushed it down. There were battles ahead—questions that would have to wait until he had the strength to seek answers.