SilverWing Academy

Suddenly and swiftly, a dark figure moved as quickly as a comet through the bright streetlights, a rapid and astonishing display of movement that was almost unbelievable. The soft materials on the ground – fabrics that looked like clothing, fragile nylon threads, and bits of paper – all gave way to the power of its rush. However, such occurrences were not rare during this time.

This Earth existed two centuries in the future, molded by the lasting effects of the Origin Energy invasion. The transformations that had restructured the planet over this period were incredibly significant. Tall skyscrapers embellished the cityscape, an ever-present view that extended in all compass directions. A remarkable feat of engineering, airborne train terminals graced the heavens, and vehicles glided through the air as if frozen in time. Floating islands in midair were now a reality, accommodating corporate structures, extravagant residences, impressive mansions, and indeed, even educational institutions.

In this era, the zenith of technology had unveiled itself, advancing to a stage where spatial dimensions were harnessed to stockpile resources. Even the fundamental composition of raw materials had undergone an evolution, their quality surging forward by great strides. Ventures that were once deemed impractical due to material constraints were now pursued with unhindered enthusiasm.

In its essence, Earth had shed its former skin, ascending to an entirely new level of vibrancy. Humanity now commanded abilities that were once relegated to the realm of fantasy, unlocking a plethora of potentialities. Alongside the human population, foreign entities resided, arriving as either obligated laborers or emancipated citizens, depending on their affiliation with the Earth Federation.

In times past, Earth had been chosen among the planets touched by divinity, a consequence of the significant visitation of Origin Energy. As a result, Earth's advancement had outstripped that of other mortal realms. When the courses of these distinct domains inevitably converged, humanity was poised to establish dominance over substantial portions of the mortal realms, swiftly integrating the unearthly abilities they had acquired.

Conversations flourished regarding their characterization – some termed them perceptive, others cunning, while a faction disregarded them as cautious, or even the "compact yet potent." True, they stood among the smaller civilizations, with an average height of merely six feet, distinct from most peers who stood around seven feet. Yet, Earth proudly housed elite academies, hubs of learning that nurtured developing talents in mastering their newfound potentials. Many of these talents displayed connections to the ancient deities who had once graced Earth with their presence.

In the expansive fabric of time and existence, Earth had emerged as a crucible of change, a domain where the supernatural and the natural intertwined, birthing a lineage of beings with the power to reshape reality itself.

***

Within the halls of SilverWing Academy, Arthur stood as a testament to persistent effort rather than innate brilliance. Amidst his peers, he hovered on the brink of mediocrity, never quite reaching remarkable heights. What consolation could he find in the ability to master wood-based weaponry when surrounded by peers who effortlessly controlled elements and manipulated objects at their whim? His skill, a superpower focused on proficiency with wooden tools, only qualified him for a future within the Societal Safety Department.

Unfazed by his assumed fate, Arthur sought solace within the depths of the forest concealed behind the Academy library's grand façade. In the midst of those vast wooded expanses, concealed knowledge and techniques awaited, offering gradual improvements to his physical abilities if honed through unwavering practice. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Arthur completed his assigned lessons and promptly retreated to his dormitory. There, he gathered an assortment of wooden weaponry in his bag before setting out once more.

"Training again?" his roommate inquired, engrossed in his holographic wrist-watch – a holo-comm.

"Yes. If I'm not back by your bedtime, just leave the key where it usually is," Arthur replied with a serious expression.

"You do realize that your unending training won't change the fact that your deficiency lies in your ability, right?" Allen's gaze met Arthur's, his resolute demeanor emphasizing his words.

"No need to discourage me. You should understand by now that no matter how often you express your doubts, I'll persist. And since I don't have any other immediate commitments, I might as well put in my best effort, even if it seems futile," Arthur's response held a strong sense of determination, marking the end of their conversation.

Allen's gaze lingered on the closed door. No hint of sympathy colored his thoughts for his less-talented roommate. His purpose was clear: an ongoing reminder of Arthur's limitations, lest he dare to overestimate his worth. In Allen's perspective, those lacking exceptional abilities should remain inconspicuous, content with a humble existence. His certainty stemmed from his own outstanding A+ mechanic skill, a trait that positioned him among the elite.

As Arthur ventured deeper into the forest's embrace, tendrils of nostalgia reached out to him, weaving his thoughts with memories of a distant childhood. These recollections, etched into the corridors of his mind, fueled the firm resolve that propelled him beyond the confines of his limitations. Amidst the whispering leaves and dappling sunlight, he retraced the footprints of his past.

In his early years, a crucial crossroads emerged when he underwent the customary ability assessment – a trial of potential using a pinnacle-grade origin stone. The outcome was disheartening – an E grade talent, a ranking that lingered among the lowest possibilities.

Ability Name: Basic Wooden Weapon Mastery

Ability Grade: E

Ability Potential Grade: E

Ability Description: Proficiency in wielding wooden weapons at a fundamental level, achieved with ease.

His parents, individuals of considerable influence within the federation's hierarchy, resorted to a drastic choice – they disowned him. They encouraged him to sever all family ties, to forsake their parental role forever. Accompanying this disinheritance was a substantial sum of money, enough to support him for years even if spent recklessly. At the tender age of seven, he became an orphan within his own bloodline.

Sent to a remote school nestled on the opposite side of the planet, Arthur's exile was deliberate – an attempt to shield him from the agony of undeserved suffering. They charted his path to ensure the absence of any familial connection. The academy fees, prepaid and secured, served as his sole link to his parents' legacy.

From that point forward, Arthur walked the solitary path he had carved. A life stripped of familial embrace, the solace of friendship, or shared laughter. The echoes of his steps among the trees resonated his solitude.

Arthur's steps guided him to a familiar clearing within the forest, a sanctuary of lush serenity spanning about a hundred square meters. This woodland refuge served as his arena, the canvas on which he painted his aspirations. Setting his bag aside, he drew a sword, his fingers wrapping around the hilt with practiced finesse. His movements bore the mark of purpose, each swing a fusion of precision and determination.

In the theater of his mind, adversaries took form as phantom figments, their attacks anticipated and deflected through a sequence of fluid gestures. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he wove intricate patterns of combat, his muscles adapting to the rhythmic choreography of battle. Each day's trial pushed him to surpass the boundaries of his perceived limitations. The relentless pursuit of mastery kindled a fire within him, igniting a yearning to transform weaknesses into strengths, to emerge as a force to be reckoned with.

With a surge of accomplishment coursing through him, Arthur sheathed his sword. From his pack, he drew an axe, his movements executed with breathtaking speed. A fleeting fraction of a second concealed the transition as the axe sliced through the air, its resonance carrying a potency that seemed to shake the very ground. His graceful swordsmanship yielded to the raw might of the axe, each swing reverberating with immense force. The aura surrounding him transformed, a manifestation of his alignment with the primal energies coursing through his weapon.

The core of his being mirrored the energy he now channeled – wild, intense, and unyielding. The forest ambiance hummed in response, the landscape itself echoing the transformation brought about by his chosen tool.

Persisting in his practice, Arthur's axe cleaved the air in a symphony of power and precision, until the sinews of his hands registered the strain, palms pulsing with forming blisters. Yet, he did not falter. Transitioning from axe to bow, he switched seamlessly, maintaining composure. His focus fixed on a target, a lone tree standing a hundred meters away. With fixed concentration, he released the arrow, sending a whisper through the forest's embrace.

Impact. The arrow found its mark, piercing the heart of the target with astounding accuracy. A perfect bullseye.

Breathing heavily, Arthur took a moment to recuperate. Seated as a solitary figure within the vastness, he replenished his depleted energy with water and a nutrient solution. The forest's symphony surrounded him – leaves whispering, distant bird calls – a soothing accompaniment to his endeavors.

Under the canopy of the evening sky, Arthur's thoughts deepened, mingling with the distant twinkle of stars. The fabric of his life had been woven with threads of struggle and unwavering determination, his very existence shaped by trials and resolute resolve. A singular truth illuminated his path – the necessity to push himself with unparalleled intensity if he aimed to transcend his circumstances and ascend to the peak of his aspirations.

Within his musings, the saga of Xavier Gudlad, the reigning God of Light, took form. Xavier's story stood as a beacon of inspiration, a testament to the power of unwavering perseverance. Stamped with a C-rank light ball ability at the tender age of thirteen, Xavier's spirit refused to bow to such constraints. He scaled the heights of his potential with remarkable speed, breaching the zenith of his capability by the age of fifteen.

With audacity, he joined the ranks of the most esteemed awakeners, standing as a porter amongst their revered company as they ventured into the Temple of Light dungeon. Within that sacred domain, Xavier acquired an artifact that elevated him to S-rank. His title morphed, his essence elevated to that of a deity. No longer a mere C-rank awakener, he had evolved into something far greater.

Arthur's memories turned inward, revisiting the images of his parents. Their expressions had twisted with disdain on that pivotal day when his rank was revealed, the lowest among the awakeners. The memory cast a shadow over his life, an unending reminder of his perceived inadequacy. Since that defining moment, the concept of a genuine smile had remained a distant memory, scarcely gracing his features.

And thus, as stars twinkled overhead, Arthur's gaze lingered upon the celestial expanse. His vision dimmed, darkness encroaching as the threads of consciousness began to unravel.