The announcements continued, a rhythmic drumbeat of fates being sealed.
"Hank Vance! Ability Type: Fire! Talent Grade: Excellent-rank! Classification: Combat Class!"
A triumphant whoop from somewhere in Class Two.
"Liam Sterling! Ability Type: Bio-Resonance! Talent Grade: Ordinary-rank! Classification: Support Class."
A muffled sob, quickly stifled.
The reactions were a stark, immediate spectrum of human emotion. One young man, practically vibrating with joy, pumped his fists. "Hahaha! Dad! Mom! I've actually made it! You hear me? When I get back home, I'm telling them to burn that dusty old family registry and start a fresh new page, right under my name!"
Further down the line, another student slumped, shoulders trembling. "We're all human, aren't we? So why… why is the gap so damned huge? Why am I just… Ordinary-rank talent? Why?!"
Each individual's awakening, from the moment they touched the crystal ball to the official pronouncement, took roughly a minute. With approximately thirty students per class, and Ethan languishing in Class Four, positioned dead last in their line, he calculated it would be another agonizing two hours before his turn arrived. The awakening crystal ball, he'd overheard, was an artifact of immense value and sensitivity; thus, each awakening was conducted consecutively, with no breaks, no chance for an intermission to ease the mounting tension.
After a wait that stretched into an eternity, punctuated by cheers and groans, it was finally the turn of Class Four. The air crackled with a more personal anticipation for Ethan.
"Seraphina Linley! Ability Type: Geomancy! Talent Grade: Superior-rank! Classification: Support Class!"
"Awesome!!!" Marcus's roar of delight was instantaneous and deafening, as if he were the one who had just awakened a coveted Superior-rank talent. He beamed at Seraphina, who offered a small, pleased smile in return.
"Next!" the official barked.
Marcus Vance strode forward, a confident grin plastered on his face. When he placed his hand on the crystal ball, it didn't just glow; it erupted in a dazzling, almost blinding radiance, a pure, earthy yellow light that seemed to thrum with power.
The official's voice, when he announced the result, carried an extra note of gravitas. "Marcus Vance! Talent Grade: Earth-rank! Ability Type: Physical Augmentation! Classification: Combat Class!"
A wave of stunned disbelief, quickly followed by excited clamor, swept through the crowd below.
"Another Earth-rank! My god, my god! I've actually lived to see two Earth-ranks born in a single day!"
"Holy moly! I thought Iris Thorne was already defying the heavens, but here's another one! Class Four, of all places!"
Marcus walked down from the stage, his usually steady steps betraying a slight tremble, a clear indicator of the wild excitement thrumming through his heart.
Seraphina greeted him with a warm smile. "Congratulations, Marcus! That's incredible!"
Ethan clapped him on the shoulder. "Way to go, old Marcus! Earth-rank, man! You hit the jackpot!"
"Heh… hehehe… HAHAHA!" Marcus's composure finally shattered. He grabbed Seraphina in an exuberant hug, spinning her around a few joyful times before setting her down, slightly dizzy but laughing. He then turned, arms outstretched, to bestow a similar rib-crushing embrace upon Ethan.
Ethan, wise from past experience, reacted with lightning speed. He ducked under Marcus's enthusiastic lunge and then executed a neat backward somersault, putting a safe distance between them. He had absolutely no desire to relive the sensation of being squeezed like a toothpaste tube by a suddenly super-powered, muscle-bound friend; he'd experienced that particular brand of affection once when they were little, after Marcus had won a local strongman contest for kids, and had vowed 'never again.'
Unlike the unrestrained excitement erupting from the student body, the esteemed leaders on the high platform maintained an air of dignified composure. Or, they attempted to. Marcus's father, Alden Vance, the formidable head of the Vance family, was trying his utmost to suppress the triumphant grin threatening to split his face, his lips twitching at the corners. His hands, clasped loosely in his lap, trembled nonstop. Well, at least on the surface, he looked very, very calm.
Victor Thorne, the patriarch of the Thorne family, took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea, his expression unreadable. He then turned to Alden Vance, his voice smooth as silk. "Mr. Vance, you have truly raised a fine son. An Earth-rank talent, indeed. Just like my own dear daughter, Iris."
Julian Linley, the head of the Linley family and Seraphina's father, heard the subtle, almost imperceptible barb in Victor Thorne's seemingly innocuous words. A flicker of nervousness crossed his face before he interjected, a touch too quickly, "Indeed, indeed! I've watched this boy Marcus grow up. A good lad, a very good lad. And he and my daughter, Seraphina, as you know, have an arranged marriage binding our families."
Alden Vance, his chest swelling with poorly concealed pride, chimed in smoothly, "That's absolutely right, Mr. Linley. These two children have been childhood sweethearts, practically inseparable. And now, with one possessing an Earth-rank talent and the other a most commendable Superior-rank, they are, by all accounts, a perfect match. Destined, one might say."
Victor Thorne's lips curved into a polite, yet chilling, smile. "Superior-rank talent is certainly not to be sniffed at, Mr. Vance. Commendable, as you say. But compared to an Earth-rank… it does seem a tad… lacking, wouldn't you agree? A slight imbalance, perhaps."
Alden Vance's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Mr. Thorne, you needn't trouble yourself with such minor details. Ultimately, it is best to let the children decide these personal matters for themselves. Their happiness is paramount, is it not?"
Julian Linley, catching the shift in tone, quickly added, "What Mr. Vance says is most reasonable. Indeed. Since that is the prevailing sentiment, I certainly won't insist on any… premature conclusions." He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow that hadn't been caused by the sun.
This brief, veiled exchange underscored the brutal importance of talent in this world. As long as you awakened a sufficiently good talent, even the proud head of New Veridia's number one family would be willing to lower themselves, ever so slightly, to associate with, and perhaps even court, a mere second-tier family. Power recognized power, and potential was the ultimate currency.
As the minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an hour, it was finally, finally, Ethan's turn. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. He extended his left hand, acutely aware of every eye in the plaza seemingly fixed on him, and slowly, deliberately, placed it on the cool, unyielding surface of the crystal ball.
A minute crawled by. Nothing.
Then, another. Still nothing. No light, no hum, no sensation of power.
Just as a confused murmur began to ripple through the crowd and the official beside him frowned, something did happen.
Not from the crystal ball, but on his wrist, directly over where it touched the sphere.
With a faint, almost inaudible shink sound, a device materialized. A green, distinctly hourglass-patterned symbol glowed on the faceplate of what looked like a chunky, oversized wristwatch, attached via a thick black strap. It had simply… appeared.
The crystal ball itself, however, remained stubbornly dark, inert. It had not emitted so much as a flicker of light.
The official, a man who had seen thousands of awakenings, looked Ethan over a few times, his brow deeply furrowed with doubt and no small amount of confusion. Finally, with a hesitant clearing of his throat, he announced, "Ethan Vance… Uh, Ability Type: Manifestation-type, it seems… Talent Grade: No rank visible… Category…?" He then leaned closer to Ethan, lowering his voice slightly. "Son, what in the blazes is that watch-thing on your arm?"
Ethan stared at his own wrist, his jaw slack with utter astonishment. The watch… the design… the green hourglass…
No. It can't be, his mind screamed, a dizzying cocktail of disbelief and wild, impossible hope flooding his senses. Isn't this… isn't this the Omnitrix?! My awakened ability is… the Omnitrix?!
One must understand: Ethan, in his previous life, had originally, and rather ignominiously, died by a freak accident involving a poorly secured bookshelf and a Ben 10 marathon. When he had blinked his eyes open again, the world had irrevocably changed. And now, the very ability he had awakened in this new, psionic-infused reality was a key, iconic item from that very same cartoon.
The Omnitrix. Also known by grander titles like the "Ultimate Superpower Device," or, more often in the show's later seasons by its long-suffering creator, as "that infernal, glitch-prone, little broken-down watch." A device capable of transforming its user into a multitude of diverse alien species, each possessing incredible, unique superpowers.
Thinking of this, of the sheer, universe-bending potential now strapped to his arm, Ethan was so overcome with a surge of ecstatic excitement that he nearly had a legitimate heart attack on the spot. He could feel his pulse thundering in his ears.
"Hey! Hey, kid! Wake up! Snap out of it!"
"Huh?" Ethan blinked, his dazed eyes focusing on the official, whose face had now darkened considerably, his patience clearly wearing thin.
"What type of ability is this manifestation of yours?" the official repeated, his tone laced with more than a little impatience. Ethan had been spacing out, lost in his own world, for far too long.
"Um… right! Uh, you just… wait a moment, please," Ethan stammered, his mind racing. He first quickly checked the watch face, his eyes scanning for any tell-tale sign of three ominous black bars or, even worse, three grasping tentacles coiling around the dial – indicators of a corrupted or compromised device he vaguely remembered from the show. Seeing none, just the standard green hourglass, he took a deep breath. Bracing himself with the innate knowledge that seemed to have come with the awakening, a faint understanding of the device's basic operation, he tentatively pressed a small stud on the side of the Omnitrix on his wrist. The faceplate popped up, revealing a glowing dial. He began to turn it.
And what appeared before his eager eyes, projected holographically above the dial, was… a field of brilliant, empty green light.
Yes. Just a flat, featureless field of vibrant green light, without a single alien silhouette to be seen.
"What's… what's going on?" Ethan muttered, his initial elation rapidly deflating. "It can't be… is it broken? Is this a broken Omnitrix from the get-go?"
Not giving up, a desperate edge to his movements now, Ethan continued to turn the dial, faster and faster. He even tried pressing the watch face down, mimicking the transformation activation he'd seen countless times on screen. But nothing happened. No flash of light, no surge of power, no alien form. Just… nothing.
"What on Earth is going on with this thing?" he whispered, a cold dread seeping into his heart.
"How should I know?" the official snapped, his patience completely gone. "Are you done yet or not? There are other students waiting!"
Ethan looked up at the official, his face a mask of awkward apology and rising panic. "Um… I… I think I still need to research this a bit more. How about you just put down 'Unknown' for its specific function for now?"
The official stared at him, utterly nonplussed. "..."
"Then what is its innate skill? Its primary function?" the official pressed, trying to salvage some usable data.
Ethan's shoulders slumped. "I… I don't know that either."
The official threw his hands up in exasperation. "..." He turned back to the microphone, his voice flat and devoid of any enthusiasm. "Ethan Vance! Ability Type: Unknown Manifestation! Talent Grade: None Apparent!"
A wave of bewildered, then derisive, murmurs swept through the student body.
"How is that even possible? There's such a thing as 'No rank'?"
"Unknown type? Never heard of anything like it. What a weirdo."
"And it's 'No rank' on top of that! Tsk tsk tsk, this has never happened before in the academy's history! That's even worse than an Ordinary-rank, it's practically a dud!"
"Hah! A slacker is always a slacker, I guess. Even their awakened ability is pathetic and useless!"
Ethan pretended not to hear their cutting comments as he walked slowly away from the platform, his gaze still glued to the Omnitrix – or rather, what he now suspected was a thoroughly broken Omnitrix – on his wrist. He was so engrossed in fiddling with the unresponsive dial, trying to coax any sign of life from it, that he wasn't watching where he was going and nearly tripped over his own feet. Luckily, Marcus was there, a strong hand shooting out to steady him.
Seraphina rushed over, her brow furrowed with concern. "Old Ethan, are you okay? Don't listen to them."
Ethan forced a weak smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Really."
Marcus snorted. "You call this fine? Your eyeballs are practically glued to that… that fancy-looking but apparently useless watch. You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm really fine," Ethan insisted, though his voice lacked conviction. "Maybe there's just… a little problem with my ability. A glitch. It's okay, maybe it'll sort itself out after a while. These things happen, right?" He was trying to convince himself as much as his friends.
"Sigh," Marcus let out a sympathetic breath. "Look, don't be too disheartened, buddy. Worst case, I'll cover you from now on. My Earth-rank talent should be enough for both of us. Relax, I guarantee you won't starve. Hey, if you really don't like that idea, just call me 'Dad' once, right here, right now, and I'll directly make you the manager of our family's biggest psionic pharmacy. How about that for a safety net?"
Ethan glared at him. "Scram!!! Get lost!"
Marcus grinned, unperturbed. "So fierce! Just trying to help a brother out!"
Ethan looked down at the stubbornly inert device on his hand, the green hourglass symbol mocking him. He sighed, a heavy weight settling in his chest. Or maybe, a treacherous little voice whispered in the back of his mind, maybe it really is just an ordinary, completely broken Omnitrix, a piece of junk that can't even tell the time, let alone turn me into aliens.
With a sudden surge of frustration, Ethan lightly slapped his own face, trying to psych himself up, to banish the encroaching despair.
"No," he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening with resolve. "No, I can't give up yet. Not after coming this far, after seeing this. Even though it doesn't seem to have an innate skill right now, maybe… maybe after I break through to the first psionic rank, I'll awaken a skill then. Maybe then, this… this broken Omnitrix will undergo some kind of transformation, unlock itself!" It was a sliver of hope, but he clung to it desperately.
After what felt like an eternity more, the awakening ceremony finally, mercifully, concluded. The last student had been assessed, their fate, for better or worse, revealed.
The homeroom teachers, looking vaguely relieved themselves, began to lead their somewhat dazed students back to their respective classrooms for a final address.
Mr. Gordon stood before Class Four, his earlier embarrassment over the rodent incident seemingly forgotten. "Alright, listen up, everyone. Since you have all now awakened your abilities, your immediate priority is to go home and begin to channel Aura properly. Later today, I will send the standard foundational Aura Channeling method as a data file to our class group chat. Everyone should absorb aura according to that method and strive to break through to the first psionic rank as soon as possible. Those of you who awakened strong talents, like Marcus," he nodded towards his nephew, "should not become arrogant. And students who awakened talents that appear… weaker, or less defined," his gaze flickered briefly towards Ethan, "should certainly not be discouraged. As long as you work hard, persevere, you can still become strong. Potential is just the starting line."
As Mr. Gordon spoke his last sentence, his gaze lingered on Ethan. But Ethan was still completely engrossed in studying the malfunctioning Omnitrix on his wrist, turning the dial, pressing buttons, oblivious to the world around him, and didn't notice his teacher's well-meaning glance at all. Seeing Ethan so utterly focused on his 'ability,' Mr. Gordon actually felt a small, misguided sense of relief. At least the boy is taking it seriously, he thought. Perhaps this unusual manifestation will spur him to apply himself for once.
"Alright, students," Mr. Gordon announced, clapping his hands together. "When you step out of this school gate today, it means your summer vacation officially begins! Use this precious time to channel Aura diligently. After the summer vacation ends, there will be a school-wide competition. This competition will directly affect your resource allocation for the next academic year, so I expect you all to take it very seriously. Okay, that's all. Class dismissed!"
"Charge!"
"Wooo! The battle intent is surging within me! Or maybe that's just hunger."
"Wonderful, glorious vacation, here I come! Freedom!"
In less than half a minute, the classroom was completely empty, the students vanishing with a speed that would have impressed even during an emergency evacuation drill.
Outside the bustling school gate, Ethan waved a preoccupied goodbye to Marcus and Seraphina, who were already excitedly discussing their training plans. Then, with the broken Omnitrix feeling heavy and cold on his wrist, he turned and also headed home, a whirlwind of confusion, disappointment, and a tiny, stubborn spark of hope churning within him.