Cold, raw reality

Never mind the mockery. Never mind the numbers. He'd made a promise, and he was going to keep it.

Soon all the students finished the tests, but not one of them scored less than 20, confirming Adam's disastrous talent.

But Adam's face was now imperturbable.

The director took the stage while the technical teams uninstalled and moved the Alphus.

"Dear students," he began in a clear, solemn voice.

 "Today marks an important milestone in your lives. You have discovered a part of yourselves, an essential part of what you are called to become."

He paused, his eyes sparkling with a strange intensity.

"Some of you leave this room with potential, the kind of gift that could spark a few bold dreams."

"To you, I say this: don't rest on your laurels. Great talent without discipline and effort is just an empty promise. Power alone is not enough. It must be mastered."

He really meant it, compatibility could go up to 100. But these young kids with only 30 or 40 compatibility and comparing themselves with ordinary students, really thought they were geniuses and above the lot.

It was the same thing every year.

Unfortunately for them, most real geniuses didn't use this kind of primitive method to awaken their talent.

His voice softened, but his tone remained firm.

"Others of you, perhaps, feel a touch of disappointment. Your talent seems modest, even insignificant in your eyes. But let me tell you this: true strength lies not in what you receive, but in what you do with it."

"Some of the greatest heroes in our history began their journey with talents that many would have considered paltry. Their courage, hard work and perseverance forged their legends."

It wasn't true, there were no heroes with weak talents. Or even if they did, they had managed to find a way to improve it.

It was impossible to become strong without good talent.

The director knew this, but he wanted to protect these teenagers, still children, from a reality too brutal to accept.

He inhaled deeply, his gaze settling on Adam for a brief moment before continuing.

 "Remember, young people: this day is not an end, but a beginning. Awakening reveals your potential, but it's your will that determines your destiny."

"Whatever the nature of your talent, it belongs to you. It is the first chapter of your story. And that story is yours to write."

A slight murmur ran through the room, and the director smiled.

"Now go home and get some rest. Tomorrow, the first training sessions begin. And I expect to see each and every one of you returning ready to forge your future to join a famous academy."

Silence was quickly replaced by applause, as the students gradually left the room, their thoughts filled with hope, doubt or determination.

The bell also rang, marking the end of the awakening ceremony and compatibility tests. The students filed out of the building in noisy groups, some elated, some despondent, but all brimming with emotion.

Adam followed them, and left the school as planned.

His mother was waiting for him at the school gate, her smile as warm as ever.

But she saw the stares that weighed on her son, heard the stifled laughter and mockery-filled whispers that targeted him.

"That's Adam, isn't it? The one with the 3 and the 9?" a boy murmured, pointing discreetly.

 "Funny thing is, even though he woke up a dagger, he has more compatibility with swords than daggers!" giggled a girl, casting a sidelong glance at Adam.

Another student, visibly proud of his results, passed by him, exclaiming aloud:

"With numbers like that, he might as well give up now. He'd be better off enrolling in a cooking course and starting to cook for us after our future training sessions."

A comrade beside him laughed at his stupidity and added:

"Oh but you're running a real business here, I think he could really make something of his life if he listens to your advice!"

Hearing her son being mocked in public, Adam's mother wanted to go crazy and shout at them, but she restrained herself on reflection.

In her opinion, it would only add to her son's humiliation.

For his part, Adam didn't react. He walked on, his head held high, his eyes fixed straight ahead. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him falter.

Seeing this, his mother was proud, but she didn't seem to recognize her son.

"Since when is he so mentally strong?" she thought suspiciously.

When Adam arrived in front of her, she smiled tenderly, but a little hesitantly.

She wanted to ask him what kind of talent he had awakened.

But seeing the mockery, she didn't need to ask; her son wasn't covered in glory, and that squeezed her heart.

"Adam..." she murmured, stepping toward him.

Adam stopped in front of her, his eyes meeting hers. He remained silent for a second, listening to the distant taunts and whispers still floating in the air.

Then, without an ounce of sadness or bitterness, he simply said to her:

"Can we go straight home?"

His voice was calm, almost indifferent.

No anger, no complaint.

His mother, at first surprised by his reaction, quickly nodded.

She had a thousand questions to ask him, but her son's determined gaze held her back.

Behind them, the students continued their comments. Some laughed loudly, others murmured words tinged with ill-concealed contempt.

But Adam didn't turn around. He didn't slow down. Every step he took seemed to put a barrier between him and this day.

His mother finally broke the silence:

 "You... want to talk about it?"

Adam shrugged, his face impassive.

"There's nothing to talk about. It's just the beginning."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, searching for traces of frustration or sadness, but all she saw was a steely determination, far stronger than she could have imagined.

She simply nodded, respecting his silence.