Sixteen years old.
Not quite a "failure" to be dismissed, but not nearly "remarkable" enough to be someone of note.
That was perhaps the most accurate description of the role he played in life.
A secondary character.
Not a hero. Not a villain. Just... someone.
What stung the most — the Gates had chosen him.
And while the chance of being "marked" wasn't exactly low, Kriss had held onto hope until the last second.
A normal life, without adventures, without mortal danger — was that really too much to ask?
Apparently so. Fate, as usual, offered no mercy.
Now he was walking toward where it physically pulled him — toward the Gates. He tried resisting the call, delaying each step as if he could postpone the inevitable. But the pressure only grew stronger — so much that he accidentally bumped his shoulder into a passing man and didn't even apologize. He didn't have the strength.
"Hey!"
He ignored the voice. Maybe it wasn't even meant for him. Right now, he had no desire to talk to anyone.
But whoever had called out darted in front of him, beaming with enthusiasm like an overheating lamp.
"You're heading to the Gates too, right? Gods, I'm buzzing! Seriously, I've waited for this my whole life! I would've come earlier, but my parents..." — he grimaced — "made me say a proper goodbye."
A second later, he was smiling again, as if nothing had happened.
He was loud. Too loud. Drew eyes to himself, talked as if afraid of silence.
Kriss sighed internally. With all his energy focused on fighting the pull of the Gates, he had none left to deal with this... bundle of hyperactivity.
"Name's Dafydd. David Fortov. And you?"
"Chrisstopher Goliath."
David's face stretched in surprise.
"No way… You're one of those Goliaths? That's insane! Kriss, buddy, you have to introduce me to your brother! I've been dying to meet him!"
Kriss grimaced. The only thing worse than going to the Gates was talking about his oh-so-"glorious" family.
"No," he replied curtly.
David didn't give up right away, but after seeing Kriss's expression, he shut up — though only briefly. The spark of hope still danced in his eyes.
They walked on, drawn by the same silent pull, surrounded by others — dozens like them. Soon, the Registration Center building rose before them.
"There it is! The First City's Gate Collector! First time I've seen it up close..." David spun around with wonder. "They say regular people aren't even allowed near this place, too much energy or something. But now we've been invited! The Gates are calling!"
Kriss clenched his fists.
"David... Do you even realize they could send us anywhere? If we land in a Category Four world, we might die in seconds."
"Don't be so dramatic, Kriss! The odds are tiny! And hey, your brother survived one, didn't he? No big deal! If it were me, I'd be thrilled — imagine the fame! The girls!"
Of course. He didn't take any of this seriously.
And of course, he had to bring this up to the one person who least wanted to talk about it.
When they stepped inside, they were met with a crowd. People — young, anxious, some excited, some terrified — filled the registration hall.
"Follow me, Kriss. I know where to go!"
Surprisingly, that was actually helpful for once.
Kriss gave him a slight nod of gratitude — even this chatterbox had his uses.
After the standard procedures — inspection, paperwork — they were led into an inner chamber. The door opened, revealing a circular hall in a sleek, futuristic style: smooth curves, glowing panels, mirrored surfaces.
In the center — the Gates.
Blue light shimmered and pulsed like a living thing. They were invisible to ordinary people, but to those they called, the pull was almost physical.
The crowd stilled.
From above, a voice rang out through the broadcast system — clear, calm, female:
"Attention. The Gates will activate in five minutes. Please remain in designated zones and stay calm."
Kriss swallowed hard.
This was it. The end of his normal life.
He hadn't even properly prepared.
Then again, considering how long he'd put off coming here, that was no surprise.
Out on the square in front of the building, other teenagers were arriving — at least a hundred. Among them, three caught his eye: two girls and a boy.
One of the girls — and the boy — stood out immediately. Not because of looks, but something subtler, something you felt.
Aura. A mark of pureblood lineage.
Born with it — not chosen. Rare among the chosen.
The third girl, on the contrary, looked like she didn't belong at all. Grey, invisible, like she was trying to hide from the world itself.
And yet… Kriss felt the same force from her. Quiet, focused strength.
He wouldn't have noticed her if he hadn't deliberately analyzed those around him. A habit ingrained by upbringing.
He sighed — yet another reason to resent his family.
Most people couldn't see these things. They had to talk, observe, compare.
Kriss always felt it intuitively. Unique? More like an anxious sixth sense.
Just then, the Gates began to glow. Soft at first, then brighter, brighter — blurring space like light underwater.
Before he could react —
Blackout.
The last thing he heard was David's voice:
"Good luck!"
He came to.
The first sensation was pressure. Not metaphorical — physical.
As if something massive had gripped his body and tried to squeeze the air out of him.
A lead weight in his chest.
This… was transfer.
Strangely, it wasn't unpleasant.
The moment stretched —
—and then text appeared before his eyes, hovering like a hologram:
Candidate #3: Chrisstopher Goliath
Prepare for arrival.
Transfer to Category 4, Class 2 world completing in 3… 2…
His blood ran cold.
What?! A Category 4 world... Class 2?!
The words echoed in his head.
Class 2 — that meant the world had never been explored. No coordinates. No maps. No reports.
Probably no intelligent life.
Only emptiness.
And death.
If he was lucky, it would be quick.
At least they usually dropped candidates near each other. Sometimes even in pairs.
He could only hope.
He never heard the "1."
The world lurched.
Cold, violent.
Water.
He was in water.
Fantastic. Just perfect.
Panic surged instantly. No air. Where's the surface? Which way is up?
He thrashed, swam, kicked.
Nothing else mattered now.
Moments before passing out, he broke the surface.
Inhaled. Air.
Darkness. Nothing.
Only the sound of waves crashing against each other.
Then — he saw it.
Light.
Below him, maybe twenty meters down, something glowed with bluish light. He squinted.
A fish.
Huge.
The size of a van.
With teeth like razors lining its massive jaw.
Oh hell no…
Thoughts vanished. Only instinct remained.
Swim. Faster. Anywhere.
He didn't see the rock.
Slammed his head into it.
Pain exploded.
Then — a hand.
Gripped him.
Strong, steady.
Yanked him out so forcefully he nearly lost his arm.
Below, the fish had nearly reached him.
But stopped.
As soon as he left the water, it turned and vanished.
He gasped.
Cold. Exhaustion. Shock.
A voice — calm, low, hoarse:
"Are you alright?"
He recognized the aura.
That girl. The pureblood.
He couldn't see her clearly in the dark, but he knew.
His voice trembled.
"No."
...And he blacked out.
This — this was exactly why he had wanted a normal life.