Bond Master

Boundless Echoes

The tenth annual elite recruitment drive had turned the gymnasium of Sootstone District Middle School into a pressure cooker of desperate hope.

Ren Barrett adjusted his frayed collar, shifting uncomfortably on the cold metal folding chair. Like every other teenager in the room, Ren was the child of common foundry laborers—dirt-floor poor and thoroughly accustomed to the suffocating soot of the industrial outskirts. For months, the classrooms had buzzed with rumors of glamorous celebrity idols arriving to administer the Divine Injection. Instead, the heavy double doors had swung open to reveal a stern contingent of military elites, their smartly pressed green uniforms and rigid postures instantly cutting through the childish excitement.

To the kids of Soot stone, the military elites were abstract saviors seen only on the café televisions, protecting the Golden Dragon Nation from hostile borders and the terrifying incursions of high-tier magical beasts. Out here, the only monsters Ren had ever seen in person were the harmless earth mice scurrying through the scrap heaps and the massive, lumbering boars bred by the regional livestock farmers. When the truly dangerous threats descended from the mountains, commoners had only two options: hide under the floorboards, or die.

"Ren Barrett. Row four, seat twelve," a sharp voice called out.

Ren swallowed hard, stepping forward as a military nurse wheeled a metal cart toward his station. Her deep crimson eyes—a chilling, famous side effect of the Mana Awakening Serum—stared right through him as she opened a secure briefcase containing rows of glowing, golden liquid.

"Steady your arm, boy," she murmured, plunging the pressurized needle into his forearm without a shred of hesitation.

Ren expected a sharp prick. Instead, an apocalyptic surge of agony ripped through his nervous system. It felt as though his veins were being injected with molten iron, tearing every individual cell apart from the inside out.

Blood seemed to pool violently in his chest, leaving him suffocating while trapped in his own skin. As his vision dissolved into absolute blackness, a cold realization struck him: he was going to be the statistical anomaly—the one-in-a-hundred casualty whose body simply rejected the serum.

"Breathing's stabilizing. Welcome back, kiddo," a voice echoed through the fog.

Ren’s eyes fluttered open, his head pounding as if a mortar shell had detonated behind his temples. The red-eyed nurse was smiling faintly down at him, already moving her cart toward a trembling, chubby girl in the next seat. "Told you he’d pull through. A reaction that severe usually means the nation's got a powerhouse on its hands."

Struggling to sit upright, Ren looked down at his left arm. The peeling, calloused skin from years of hauling slag was completely gone, replaced by a smooth, unblemished surface. But running from his wrist up to his mid-forearm was a stark, deep-crimson mark that looked exactly like a heavy, interlocking iron chain wrapped tightly around his bone. As he stared, the links seemed to shift beneath the skin, settling deep into his flesh.

Before he could process the anomaly, soldiers entered the gymnasium in pairs, gently lifting the disoriented, newly awakened prodigies who were too weak to stand on their own. Ren was carried out of the school gates, past the envious eyes of his failed classmates, and directly onto a military transport train.

When he finally woke from a deep, dreamless sleep, he found himself lying in a luxurious private train compartment complete with plush bedding and a brass wall button labeled "Room Service." Resting on the wooden desk beside his bed was a thin, cartoonish textbook clearly printed for young audiences.

The title read: So, You've Awakened Your Powers.

Ren flipped the cover, his fingers tracing the pages eagerly.

Congratulations, and welcome to the upper echelon of society, the elite five percent... Your powers won't fully awaken until you use the first skill related to your specialty. Just follow the guidelines in this text to discover your primary awakening method.

The middle chapters of the guide detailed the standard, recognized marks of the Golden Dragon Nation’s military elite. There were clear diagrams for ice shards, roaring flames, pristine shields, martial blades, and even a red-tinted twin-axe aura representing the Berserker class. There was even a section on animal paw prints for Druid Shamans.

Ren scanned the index three times, his heart hammering against his ribs. There was absolutely no mention of a chain mark. There were no instructions, no awakening exercises, and no historical precedents for whatever was currently coiled beneath his skin.

He closed the book, staring out the window as the train hurtled away from his hometown into the unknown. He had been given his second chance, but the manual was entirely blank.

While Ren Barrett was staring blankly at the unhelpful pages of his homework assignment, the military guards were conducting their initial sweeps of the luxury transport train. Waking up within the first twelve hours of transit was a rarity, typically reserved for those whose physical vessels had perfectly harmonized with the Divine Serum's volatile energies.

"Commander, we have an active anomaly in Compartment 14B," a patrol guard reported, standing at rigid attention in the heavily armored command car at the front of the train. "A boy from the Soot stone District, Ren Barrett. He’s already fully conscious and alert."

The General looked up from a tactical map detailing the volatile frontline borders. "What’s his classification? Has he manifested a primary skill yet?"

"None yet, sir," the guard replied, shifting uncomfortably. "His registry file lists a nonstandard class marking. It looks like an interlocking iron chain wrapping tightly around his entire left forearm. Our local database doesn't have a record of an exact match."

The General frowned, waving a hand dismissively. "Then the boy will have to stumble through the dark on his own. If he turns in a blank assessment sheet when we pull into the Golden Divine Academy, the instructors won't be gentle.

Some students get a mark and simply lack the capacity to draw out the power.