The Awakening Error - The system's Greatest Error

The sky above was clear, the sun casting long shadows over the strange, tranquil land they found themselves in. It was almost too peaceful—like the world itself had momentarily stopped.

Before them lay an immense stone, dark and unmoving, with an unnatural presence. It wasn't just heavy; it felt rooted, as if it had been there for centuries, unyielding to time.

Veyrn stood with his arms crossed, his gaze impassive as he looked at Ethan and Ronan.

"Move it," he said simply.

The two exchanged glances. That was it? No explanations? No instructions?

Ethan placed his hand on the stone first, focusing. He let his trait flow—his body vibrating subtly as he tried to sync with the stone's energy. But unlike living beings, unlike even the arena's weapons, this stone had no response. It didn't hum back, didn't resonate. It simply was.

A frown crept onto his face.

Ronan, standing beside him, cracked his knuckles. "If finesse won't work, I'll just break the damn thing."

He summoned two clones, each positioning themselves at different angles. The three of them launched a synchronized punch, aiming to shatter it through brute force.

The moment their fists made contact, a shockwave rippled outward—yet the stone did not budge. The force rebounded, and Ronan's clones shattered first, dispersing into nothingness.

Ronan himself stumbled backward, shaking out his hand. "Tch. That thing's not normal."

Veyrn sighed, stepping forward. "This trial isn't about strength. It's about understanding." He turned to Ethan first. "Why did your resonance fail?"

Ethan clenched his jaw. "Because the stone has no energy."

Veyrn shook his head. "Incorrect. Everything has energy, even things that seem lifeless. You simply didn't listen properly."

Then he turned to Ronan. "And you? What did you do wrong?"

Ronan scowled. "I underestimated it. Thought I could brute force my way through."

Veyrn smirked. "That's closer to the truth. You two rely too much on how you've used your traits, rather than what they truly are."

He stepped back. "Figure it out, or you will remain weak."

Ethan exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes, emptying his mind.

Resonance wasn't about forcing a reaction—it was about synchronizing. He wasn't trying to command the stone, but rather to understand it.

Slowly, his body's vibrations shifted.

For the first time, he felt something. A faint pulse.

It was almost nothing, but it was there. The stone wasn't completely inert.

Everything in existence had a frequency.

Ethan focused, adjusting his resonance. His body trembled as the frequencies slowly aligned—his trait adapting, not to absorb or reflect, but to harmonize.

The stone hummed in response.

Then, for the briefest moment—it felt weightless.

Ethan gasped as the stone shifted just slightly. It wasn't enough to move it completely, but it was proof.

Veyrn's eyes glimmered with approval. "Now you're learning."

Ronan gritted his teeth, watching Ethan make progress. He hated being behind.

But he forced himself to think.

His clones weren't just duplicates—they were variations. His trait evolved with division.

He focused, summoning another clone. Instead of simply making a copy, he willed it to be something different.

A sudden shift.

The clone twitched—then its muscles thickened, taking on a stronger build.

Ronan blinked. "What the hell?"

It had developed a slightly different physique, as if it had inherited a separate trait.

Another attempt. A second clone—this one, its eyes sharpened, its gaze scanning the surroundings with heightened awareness.

Enhanced senses.

Ronan's breath quickened. So that's what my trait truly is.

His clones weren't just mindless copies. They were evolutionary branches of himself.

He turned to the stone, summoning his newly-enhanced strength clone, and together, they pushed. The stone moved slightly, just like Ethan's attempt.

Veyrn's smirk widened. "Now you both understand a fraction of your power."

Without another word, Veyrn raised his hand.

The massive stone wavered—then, without a sound, it vanished.

Not shattered. Not moved. Erased.

Ethan and Ronan froze, eyes wide.

"This is mastery," Veyrn said simply. "This is what it means to reach the pinnacle of your trait."

Veyrn turned back to them. "Your growth does not stop here."

He explained:

At 18, a person awakens again, deepening their trait.

Talented individuals could go beyond, learning to manipulate the laws tied to their ability.

True mastery wasn't about raw power—it was about understanding the fundamental nature of your gift.

"If you survive long enough, you might even awaken something beyond traits. But for now, prove yourselves."

Ethan and Ronan stood silent, digesting the weight of what they had learned.

But then, Veyrn's voice grew colder. "Your time here is limited."

Ethan tensed. "Why?"

Veyrn's gaze turned toward the horizon, his expression unreadable. "Because someone will eventually come for you. And you are not ready."