A man in a white suit walked onto the stage. He was neither young nor old. He had a presence that instantly calmed everyone. His eyes scanned the crowd, as if he could see every student, even me, all the way at the top.
"Welcome to Apex," he said. His voice wasn't loud, but it filled the entire amphitheater. He didn't even need a microphone.
"Look around you. You are the elite of your generation. The strongest, the most promising. But a promise is worthless without proof."
He paused, letting his words hang in the air.
"Your journey begins now. With the Draft. This is not a test. It is a declaration. You will come up on this stage, one by one, and show us what you can do. Your performance will determine your initial ranking. That ranking will define your classes, your resources, your future here."
A murmur of excitement swept through the crowd below. It was a competition. A competition that started on day one.
My heart skipped a beat. Get on stage? In front of everyone? Show them my useless dagger? I wanted to run. To disappear. To go back to my little apartment and pretend that this letter had never arrived.
But the image of my mother's face came back to me. I couldn't leave.
The man on stage smiled. It was not a kind smile.
"Let us begin."
The giant screen behind him lit up. A name appeared in fiery letters. It wasn't mine.
The first name that appeared on the screen belonged to a girl with long black hair. She walked onto the stage with a grace and confidence I would never know.
When she reached the center, she joined her hands in front of her. The air around her began to shimmer. Slowly, dozens of sharp, crystalline ice lances materialized in the air, floating around her like a personal guard.
With a simple flick of her fingers, she sent them all crashing into targets that had just appeared on the stage. The impact created an explosion of frost and noise.
A wave of cold swept through the amphitheater. Polite but impressed applause followed.
"Rank A," the man in white's voice announced. "Excellent control. Next."
Another name appeared. A burly boy came up. His body became covered in a rocky shell, and he stomped the ground, creating a shockwave that made my seat tremble, all the way at the top.
"Rank B+. Impressive brute force."
The names flew by. A student who moved so fast he was just a blur. Another who could create perfect illusions.
Every performance was more spectacular than the last. Every student seemed like a hero from a novel.
And with each one, I felt a little smaller, a little more insignificant.
My power, my little black dagger, seemed more and more ridiculous. It was a child's toy in an arsenal of mass destruction. Sweat began to bead on my forehead.
The screen went blank, then displayed a new name.
Mine.
My name was there, in huge letters, floating in the air. Kang Ji-Hoon.
Time seemed to stop. All the murmurs died down. I felt thousands of pairs of eyes turn, searching for the owner of that name. They scanned the bottom rows, then the middle ones, and finally, they found me. Alone, at the very top.
My legs felt like lead. I stood up, gripping the seat in front of me to keep from falling. The walk down the stairs felt like an eternity. Each step echoed in the silent amphitheater. No one spoke. They were waiting.
I finally reached the bottom and walked onto the stage.
The spotlights were blinding. I could no longer see the crowd, only shadows. Only the man in white was clear, standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable.
"Proceed, Mr. Kang," he said in a neutral voice.
I took a shaky breath. I held my right hand out in front of me, palm open. I closed my eyes for a moment, concentrating.
No flash. No shockwave. No sound.
When I opened my eyes, the dagger was there, resting in my hand. Black and simple. That was it.
I just stood there, holding my pathetic weapon. I waited.
A silence hung in the air for a second. Then I heard someone snicker in the front rows. A small laugh, quickly stifled, but I heard it. Everyone heard it.
The small laugh turned into a murmur. A rustling sound that spread through the entire amphitheater. It wasn't loud, mean laughter. It was worse. It was a mix of pity and mockery. The kind of sound people make when they see something pathetic.
My face grew hot. I tightened my grip on the dagger's hilt. It was smooth and cold, but my palm was sweaty. I wanted to make it disappear, to hide it. But it was too late. Everyone had seen.
The man in white raised a hand. The silence returned, almost instantly.
He looked at me, his expression blank. His eyes were like two pieces of ice.
"Is that all you have, Mr. Kang?" he asked.
I opened my mouth to say something, but no sound came out. I just nodded.
He sighed. A tiny, almost inaudible sigh, but one that held all the contempt in the world.
"Simple object summoning. Combat potential: next to none. Rank F," he declared, his voice echoing in the hall. Then, he turned away from me. "You may go. Next!"
I was dismissed. Like a useless employee.
I don't really remember the walk back to my seat. It was a long, blurry tunnel. I just stared at the floor, my cheeks burning.
As I was climbing the last steps, a window flashed before my eyes, sharp and cruel.
[Name: Kang Ji-Hoon]
[Draft Ranking: 478/478]
[Official Rank: F]
Last. I was officially last. I collapsed into my seat. The ceremony continued, but I couldn't see or hear anything anymore.
The Draft ended. The lights came back on. A flood of conversation filled the hall. Students gathered in groups, talking about their performances, comparing their rankings.
I remained seated, waiting for the crowd to disperse. I didn't want to meet anyone's gaze.
When the amphitheater was almost empty, I stood up. My legs were stiff. I followed the holographic signs that now pointed to "Dormitories."
My interface flashed again.
[Room Assignment: Gamma Building – Room 713]
The Gamma Building was the farthest, the oldest on campus. Everyone knew. It was where they put the lowest ranks. The outcasts.
The walk was long. I saw the other students entering the Alpha and Beta buildings, modern and bright structures. The Gamma Building was a sad, gray concrete block with almost no windows.
I found Room 713. The door was old, made of scratched metal. It didn't have a digital lock. Just a normal handle.
I went inside. The room was small, barely bigger than my room back home. A single bed, a metal locker, a desk, and a chair. A small window looked out onto a brick wall.
I dropped my bag on the bed. The silence was absolute.
I sat on the thin mattress. I stared at the opposite wall. I was here. At Apex. The last of the last. The school's laughingstock.
For a moment, the image of my mother flickered in my mind. Was it worth it? All this humiliation?
I closed my eyes, exhausted. I don't know how long I sat like that. I just heard the door creak open.
I opened my eyes. Three students were standing in the doorway. They were smiling at me. But it wasn't a friendly smile.
The one in the middle took a step forward. He was tall, with bleached blond hair and a uniform that looked tailor-made. The other two stayed by the door, blocking it.
"Hey, last place," the blond one said. His voice was a lazy drawl, full of boredom. "We saw your little show on stage. Really impressive."
He scanned the small room, a look of disgust on his face.
"Nice room. Reserved for the elite, I see."
I said nothing. I just sat on the bed, my hands flat on the mattress. What did they want?
The blond stopped right in front of me, looking down at me.
"You know, there are rules here. Even in this rat hole," he continued. "Newbies, especially the useless ones, have to show respect to their seniors."
He nodded to one of his friends, a burlier boy with thick arms.
That one came closer. He grabbed my backpack from the bed. Before I could react, he turned it upside down and emptied everything onto the floor.
The few things I owned scattered across the dirty floor. A few folded clothes, my toiletry bag, and the empty Apex envelope. Nothing of value.
The burly one kicked my things. "He's got nothing. He's a poor boy."
The blond laughed. A short, dry laugh. "I know. But he still has something for us. Doesn't he?"