It was a normal day in the city.
Endless voices echoed the shops—struggling, surviving, blending with the chaotic chants of people of every kind: Human, Elf, even a few monsters.
In the alley lay the motionless bodies of those who had lost their home, along with their hopes.
It had been like this since the Great Fall—The Apocalypse that shattered the civilization, erased progress, and claimed nearly half of the world's population. It was said that the world's barrier had shattered, causing the catastrophe.
The Great Fall was believed to be a blessing in disguise despite its catastrophic devastation on Earth. In exchange for wiping out thousands of years of progress, humans were granted the power to thrive—Resonance, a gift said to be granted by the deities.
It is the ultimate form of power.
The more resonance you possess, the more power and authority you command.
It typically awakens between ages 10 and 15, though rare prodigies, blessed directly by gods, may awaken earlier.
Because of this, it has become such a norm in society that the awakened and the blessed are to lead.
How does it feel to hold such prowess…
With such a thought, Kreig's body slumped on the ground, eagerly waiting for blessings to come. His hand stretched out. Ragged clothes covered the cold pavement with a battered can beside his belly that barely contained a few coins.
Should I receive a dime, it'd be just enough to get me through the day. But even that is a struggle... for someone like me deemed unblessed.
He believed he'd been normal among people. But reality did not favor him, he realized he was too naive to have such a thought.
He, along with many Unblessed, deemed this dark, stenching alley their sanctuary.
Someone's coming.
Thud. Thud.
'For some to set foot into this specific alley is a rare sight… I recall that many are scared to walk in here because of them.'
He thought.
Clang.
The can beside Kreig trembled.
He was shocked. For someone to give their money, they probably earn more than enough to spare. A mercy he hadn't even realized he'd been yearning for.
Kreig grew up in this alley. A dark pathway that puts boundaries between the bright city and the shadows, often referred to as the sanctuary of the weak.
The chaos that happens every night, the gut-wrenching stench from canals, and rarely, blood on the paths didn't bother him anymore.
Although Kreig didn't bother, it didn't mean he was not observing things that were happening.
He did not have the slightest memories of his parents, nor was he taken to an orphanage when he was a child. The memories that he could remember still up to this day were when he was dragged and thrown into dumpsters, a memory that stings him even up to now.
That was when he awakened. Not his powers, but his consciousness.
Of course. In this world that values power and luxury more than anything, there's no room for exception, especially for a boy like him who grew up on the street.
There are two titled distinctions in powers that people possess.
The Blessed and The Awakened.
'If only I possessed the powers that they do, I wouldn't be begging on this street for change…'
His hand clutched the can, but his expectations failed him.
Even the little he had was stolen.
As Kreig's anger threatened to rise, his gaze shifted. A folded paper lay beside me. A newspaper, tattered, but delivered with utmost precision, at the same time as the can trembled.
I never noticed when, nor did I bother to find out how anymore.
Perhaps I've gotten used to it.
Nonetheless, I've never had the thought to rise… even once.
Perhaps it's self-inflicted—no, I'm certain it is.
I've never had the energy—or maybe the courage—to challenge that reality. And maybe...
Just maybe…
Today would be different.