The next day, the air was crisp. All participants were buzzing: only the last of the three exams would be broadcast live worldwide, and that was enough to generate a collective adrenaline rush. There was nothing like showing one's worth in front of billions of people.

  The sun had not yet risen when the bells began to ring in the minds of the candidates. Everyone knew what it meant: the time for evaluation had come.

  This test served to examine every aspect of the participants so as to place them in the most suitable round.

  The assessment machinery was a structure consisting of five tall metal stems, engraved with symbols from the ancient language. Each stem represented one of the basic characteristics: Strength, Dexterity, Senses, Stamina and Intelligence.

  In the center, at the base, was a sphere: the core of the system. It was she who evaluated the potential, making it visible to the teachers and other participants.

  Potential was measured through a color: the darker the color, the deeper the individual's potential.

  - White: no potential

  - Yellow: almost no potential

  - Green: visible potential

  - Blue: deep potential

  - Purple: extraordinary potential

  - Black: unlimited potential

  A voice echoed in the examination area.

  “All participants are expected in the first test square.”

  Dawn shadows stretched across the avenue as hundreds of students marched toward the square, dressed in exam uniforms. No one spoke. Not out of respect, but out of fear of breaking the rhythm of their own thoughts.

  A limbo is created before the assessment: a moment suspended between space and time that seems to last an eternity, in which hope and fear merge in an unstable balance between chaos and peace. Only the beginning of the exam can break that silent torture.

  The square was unrecognizable from the previous day. Instead of beaten earth, there was now an elegant white brick floor. Bleachers had been installed to accommodate waiting candidates, and in the center, where the fountain used to stand, now dominated the assessment machinery.

  Everywhere, cameras. Dozens, perhaps hundreds.

  “Those cameras are for humiliating us in 4K,” Aaron said, laughing out loud at his own joke.

  “Maybe you're right,” replied Mark, still deep in thought.

  "Look, Mark, you've come-we've come this far. There's no use mulling it over. We have to give it our all. It's now or never, right?" replied Aaron in a firm tone.

  Aaron was right. In the end, it was just a matter of touching a damn sphere.

  All the participants sat in the stands while the professors stood in front of the sphere.

  Professor Belinda Veyra stepped forward. Like Professor Draker the day before, she used magic to communicate with everyone present.

  "Today you will be evaluated for what you are -- and what you might become.

  We will evaluate you to place you in the most suitable round, so as to avoid unnecessary complications."

  Professor Veyra was always impeccable: hair tied back, calm tone, defined face and rectangular glasses.

  “We will call the participants according to their number.”

  The test began, and meanwhile a notice appeared to Mark.

  [Warning. 10 feature points not set].

  'Man...that's right. With everything that happened yesterday, I completely forgot.'

  [Current system]

  Characteristic points: 0

  - Strength: 10 → 14

  - Dexterity: 12 → 14

  - Senses: 8 → 9

  - Stamina: 15 → 17

  - Intelligence: 5 → 6

  'I think this might be okay...' he muttered.

  Meanwhile, several participants had already gone through the assessment and returned to their seats.

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  'Number 20,' announced the professor.

  Hey, Mark, it's my turn!" said Aaron, shaking him to get his attention.

  “Ah...good luck!” replied Mark.

  “I don't need it!” retorted Aaron with a smile, waving him off.

  Aaron walked over, greeted the professors and placed his hand on the sphere. The evaluation always followed the same sequence: first the potential, then the system.

  The sphere began to swirl between colors. White... yellow... green... blue...

  Then it stopped: Viola.

  “Vi... Viola!” exclaimed the professor, visibly impressed. She herself, years earlier, had been graded in that color.

  [System Display]

  Name: Aaron Level: 13 - Apprentice

  - Life: 180 HP

  - Mana: None

  - Fatigue: 10

  - Uniqueness: Essence of Weapon

  The user is able to wield all kinds of weapons. The longer he wields it, the more his technique grows. It is as if each weapon speaks to him, revealing its secrets.

  Using this uniqueness consumes the weapon until it crumbles.

  Skill active:

  - Agile sword technique lv 13

  - Agile spear technique lv 4

  - Agile broadsword technique lv 6

  - Agile axe technique lv 3

  - Inner Blade - Intermediate lv 5 (allows you to strike the enemy by following instinct. Consumes 1 of fatigue per active minute).

  Characteristic points:

  - Strength: 12

  - Dexterity: 13

  - Senses: 12

  - Stamina: 18

  - Intelligence: 10

  All the participants remained silent. No one breathed a word. They were stunned by her statistics.

  “Thank you, participant number 20,” said Professor Belinda with a barely-there smile.

  Aaron nodded, thanked, and returned to sit next to Mark.

  Mark, however, could not get one thought out of his mind: why were his statistics so similar to Aaron's, despite the ten-level difference?

  “Number 27,” the professor called out.

  -Break-

  Mark stood up, a little confused, his legs trembling. He turned to Aaron and waved to him.

  Mark slowly approached the sphere. His steps were slow, almost kneaded, as if each meter he walked dragged him closer to an unknown abyss. The professors watched him in silence, the air around him seemed to have grown thicker.

  He rested his hand on the sphere. Nothing happened.

  The first few seconds passed in complete silence, then the sphere began to pulse, faintly. But it did not glow with any color. No hue. No light at all. Just an absolute emptiness, as if the sphere had ceased to exist.

  The professors began to whisper. Belinda Veyra stepped forward, worried. Some were checking their notes, others the sphere itself.

  "It... failed?" murmured someone.

  "Impossible..." replied another.

  "Not even the white...nothing..."

  It was then that a figure moved among the rows of professors. Everyone fell silent immediately. The Rector, a tall man with long silver hair and eyes that seemed to scan the very essence of things, advanced with a calm step.

  Without addressing anyone in particular, he stopped in front of the sphere and observed it. A long silence fell over the square. Then he spoke, his voice was firm, deep, and seemed to rumble directly into the bones of those present.

  "What you see is not a mistake. It is not a failure. It is something very rare, which has not manifested itself for decades now."

  He paused. Everyone's eyes were on him.

  "This color-it is not a color. It is the Void."

  Whispers of confusion rose from the stands.

  "The Void is not measurable. It does not express potential, because it is beyond what we call unlimited. We cannot classify it, we cannot contain it. We don't know whether it is a blessing or a condemnation, but whoever is evaluated with the Void ... has before him a destiny that eludes all foresight."

  Professor Belinda seemed about to reply, but hesitated. The dean turned to Mark.

  "We cannot grade you today. But we will observe you, carefully."

  Mark felt drained, as if the sphere had taken something from him, but at the same time something unknown simmered inside him, a silent flame

  [System Display]

  Name: Mark - Lv3 Apprentice

  Life:150 HP

  Mana: None

  Fatigue: None

  Uniqueness: None

  Skill:

  - Agile Sword Technique Lv 1

  - Basic Consciousness Lv 4

  - Thick Skin base Lv 7

  - Perfect Balance base Lv 5

  - Ultra focus base Lv 8

  Characteristic points: 0

  - Strength: 14

  - Dexterity: 14

  - Sense: 9

  - Stamina: 17

  - Intelligence: 6

  "Impossible..." whispered Professor Veyra, looking at the data that appeared in the floating panel above the sphere.

  She advanced a step, narrowing her eyes on the panel.

  "This-this data does not match. With similar parameters it should be at least level 10!"

  The buzz among the professors exploded into quick, garbled words. But the dean silenced them with a single glance, his hand outstretched like a blade.

  "Silence."

  His voice was calm, but carried the weight of an authority that admitted no reply.

  In truth, he did not know what to say either: in years of experience, he had never seen those values.

  "Participant 27 will be evaluated at the same level as the participant before him."

  "You may return to your seat."

  The crowd fell silent. No one spoke. Everyone was confused.

  Mark returned to his seat as if in a trance. Aaron looked at him, mute, with a puzzled look.

  In the midst of that suspended silence, the number 28 was called.

  "U-another uniqueness," said the professor.

  Uniqueness: Ardor - allows the wearer to ignite his or her soul, increasing each statistic for every second it remains active.

  The bearer was Elija, a boy from a good family, with a hot head, red hair and glowing orange eyes.

  "I should be the phenomenon, not him," Elija exclaimed, in a haughty voice.

  "An orb without color? You've all gone crazy. You can't really think this guy is special."

  The tension grew instantaneous.

  "I propose a duel now. In front of everyone. That way we'll see if nothing can bleed."

  Mark looked at him with his usual calm and took a step forward. Not to accept. But to appease.

  Before he could speak, a voice deeper than the abyss thundered behind them.

  "Stop. Both of you."

  The floor seemed to vibrate as Professor Brak advanced.

  Tall as a tower, muscles of steel and hands forged for the anvil rather than the pen, he wore a coal-blackened apron.

  On his back, he carried a huge two-handed sword that no one had ever seen him wield.

  His stern eyes rested on Elija.

  "Save your energy for the arena. You are in the same round as Mark. Your exam is in a few hours. There you can scream all you want-if you still have breath left."

  Then he turned to Mark.

  "And you. Don't waste energy on shadows. Emptiness doesn't need to prove anything."

  Elija clenched her fists, but kept silent. No one dared to challenge Brak.

  The crowd slowly began to thin, but the air remained charged with tension.

  Aaron approached Mark with a smirk.

  "Well, you're already popular. And you haven't drawn your sword yet."

  Mark replied with a barely-there smile. But his eyes were already on the arena corridor.

  Fate was waiting for them.