Reborn Sovereign: Shadows Of The Eternal Core

"Hurry the fuck up, loser!" a loud voice shouted from the back of the line. Loud laughter followed right after. The students stood in a long straight line, moving slowly toward the serving counter to get their dinner. The cafeteria was noisy with talking, trays clattering, and the usual bullying that happened every evening.

Silas Kane, a sixteen-year-old boy, kept his head down as he shuffled forward with the others. He had lost everything during the Great Rift Disaster. His parents, his younger sister, and everyone he cared about died when the monsters broke through into their city. The attack was sudden and brutal. One moment they were a normal family, the next moment their home was destroyed and his whole world ended.

No one knew exactly how the monsters got to Earth. Some people said the creatures came through giant rifts that connected to a dark underworld. Others believed it was caused by a terrible accident with experimental portal technology. Whatever the reason, Earth changed forever the day the monsters arrived. They were huge, powerful, and full of deadly energy that normal human weapons could not stop.

Guns, tanks, and rockets did almost nothing against them. The monsters tore through armies like they were nothing. Humanity was losing badly until thirteen special people managed to awaken their hidden magical cores. These thirteen became known as the First Awakeners. They gained incredible powers and taught the surviving humans how to awaken their own talents. With these new abilities, humans finally fought back and pushed the monsters out of their world.

But after the war ended, everything became unfair. People with strong talents ruled like kings. They got the best food, the best houses, respect, and power. People with weak or useless talents were treated like garbage. They were bullied, looked down on, and given almost nothing.

Silas was one of the unlucky ones. On the day of his Awakening Ceremony, he only awakened a weak ability called Resonance Sense. It let him feel and see the energy of other people’s talents. In battle, it was almost useless. It could not attack, could not defend, and could not protect him from danger. Because of this, everyone called him trash.

For the six months he had been at Aetherion Elite Academy, life had been pure hell. Every single day brought new insults, new beatings, and new pain. He often wished he could just disappear.

Finally, it was Silas’s turn at the counter. The plump teacher looked at him with clear disgust. Without saying anything, the teacher split the normal portion in half and gave Silas only a small piece of bread and a bowl of watery soup.

“But sir… this is much less than what you gave the others,” Silas said quietly. He kept his eyes on the floor, too scared to look the teacher in the face.

The teacher slammed his ladle down hard. “Are you really complaining, you little parasite?” he shouted. Silas flinched in fear. “You think someone like you deserves the same food as real talents? You are nothing but a waste of space and resources, Silas Kane! I don’t know why the Federation even allows trash like you to stay here!”

The harsh words felt like knives cutting into Silas’s heart. He said nothing more. He took his small tray, lowered his head, and walked away slowly. His eyes stayed fixed on the tiny amount of food. It was barely enough to keep him alive.

PAH!

Suddenly, a strong hand slapped the tray out of his grip. The bread and soup flew everywhere and spilled across the dirty floor.

“Oh no…” Silas whispered. He dropped to his knees quickly, trying to pick up the piece of bread before it got ruined. But a heavy boot came down and crushed it into dust.

“Oops. Sorry, trash,” a mocking voice said. Laughter exploded from the group around him.

Silas slowly looked up. Standing over him was Greg Rodriguez, the academy’s biggest terror. Greg had broad shoulders, bulky muscles, and sharp silver-streaked black hair that fell to his shoulders. He was the leader of the Blood Sovereigns, the gang that loved bullying the weak students.

“I wasn’t looking… I’m sorry,” Silas said softly. He pushed his broken glasses back up his nose and stood up with shaking legs. His body was still skinny and weak-looking. His messy ash-brown hair covered part of his young-looking face, making him seem smaller and easier to push around.

“You’re right, you weren’t looking,” Greg sneered. “And because of you, I now have soup all over my uniform!”

Greg’s eyes burned with anger. Before Silas could say anything else, Greg pulled his arm back and threw a hard punch straight at Silas’s jaw.

POW!

The punch landed perfectly. It lifted Silas off the ground and sent him sliding backward until he crashed hard into the wall. Blood trickled from his mouth and nose. He groaned in pain as he reached for his glasses on the floor.

“Get up, trash!” One of Greg’s friends grabbed Silas by the collar, yanked him up, and shoved him back toward Greg.

“Hold him down, boys,” Greg ordered with a cruel smile. Two big minions quickly grabbed Silas’s arms and pinned them tightly so he could not move or fight back.

Greg stepped forward and punched Silas hard in the stomach. Silas coughed up blood immediately. Then the punches kept coming.

POW! POW! POW! POW!

One after another, the heavy blows landed on his stomach, ribs, face, and chest. Pain exploded through Silas’s whole body. His white uniform turned red with blood. Each punch felt like it was breaking something inside him.

After several brutal hits, Greg finally stopped. He gave Silas one last hard kick to the head.

“Let’s go, guys,” Greg said, laughing. He and his minions walked away like nothing had happened, still joking and laughing.

Silas lay on the cold floor, covered in blood and pain. He could barely move. In his heart, he wished death would just take him away and end all this suffering.

He had never wanted to come to Aetherion Elite Academy. But the Federation made it a strict law — every person who turned sixteen had to attend the academy for four full years to train their talent. Silas had only completed six months, but every day felt like torture.

The only person who had ever been kind to him was the late Grand Instructor Halric. The old man had treated Silas like a son. On his deathbed, Instructor Halric had given Silas a small, mysterious black crystal. He said it would only activate when Silas was truly ready.

For months, Silas had tried everything to make the crystal work, but nothing happened. He eventually just kept it in his pocket and stopped hoping.

If this world doesn’t want me… then I don’t want to stay here anymore, Silas thought sadly.

With great difficulty, he dragged his bleeding body up the stairs. It took him over thirty painful minutes to reach the rooftop of the ten-story academy building. The night wind blew strongly, whipping his bloody uniform and messy hair.

Silas stood at the very edge, looking down at the dark ground far below. Tears mixed with blood on his cheeks as he remembered his mother’s kind face and her dreams for him.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he whispered. “I couldn’t become the strong hero you always wanted me to be. Maybe in another life… I can do better.”

Silas closed his eyes, spread both arms wide like a bird, took a deep breath, and stepped forward off

the roof.

The cold wind rushed past him as he fell toward the ground.