TORTURED ME, TO AWAKEN AS AN SSS DRAGON

Chapter 6

The glass doors slid open and the floor beneath his feet was transparent, thick glass over streams of blue and violet energy that rippled and pulsed like something alive was running through the veins of the building itself. Holographic panels bloomed across the walls, floating directories and welcome messages in white text rotating slowly in the air.

Dante followed the signs to New Awakened Registration.

The hall was massive. Hundreds of people stood in neat lines stretching from numbered booths at the far wall all the way back to where he was standing. Some of them looked dazed, blinking too much, touching their own hands like they weren't sure their bodies still belonged to them. Fresh awakenings. Others moved with the polished confidence of people who'd been preparing for this their whole lives, flanked by coaches and managers in expensive suits who spoke into phones and carried tablets like this was a business deal, not a registration.

Dante joined a line and let his mind work.

How much do I show? Everything gets recorded. Everything gets ranked. If I reveal SSS, I become a target, a lab rat, a weapon someone else points. If I hide too much, they'll dig. They always dig.

Show strength. Hide the truth. Give them enough to stop asking and not enough to start hunting.

Then he heard it.

"Move. Now. You're in my spot."

The voice was sharp and theatrical, the kind that expected an audience. A woman in a tight red outfit with gold accessories hanging off her like ornaments stood over a girl who couldn't have been older than fifteen. Short brown hair, thin shoulders, a registration form clutched in both hands like a shield. The girl looked up at the woman with the wide, frozen expression of someone who had been yelled at too many times to know how to respond anymore.

"I said move, you little cockroach." The woman snapped her fingers like she was calling a dog. "This line is for ranked Awakened, not stray insects who wandered in off the street."

A large man beside the woman, thick neck, shaved head, smelling like he'd bathed in cheap alcohol and cheaper cologne - stepped forward and shoved the girl's shoulder hard enough to make her stumble.

"You deaf? She told you to move. Crawl back to whatever hole you came from before I put you back in it."

The girl's registration form crumpled in her grip. She didn't say anything. She just stood there, small and silent, the way people stand when they've learned that fighting back costs more than staying quiet.

Something inside Dante shifted. The girl reminded him of Lucia. Not in her face, not in her voice. In the way she held herself still when everything in her wanted to run.

He stepped forward before he understood why.

"This isn't a place for bullies."

His voice came out cold. Flat. The temperature of metal left on stone overnight. The woman turned to him with an expression of pure disbelief, like a stain on her shoe had started talking.

"Excuse me? Who are you?"

"Nobody. But I know what you are. Two ranked Awakened pushing around a kid half your size in a registration hall. That's not power. That's just sad."

The large man stepped closer. He was a full head taller than Dante and twice as wide, and his breath confirmed every suspicion about the alcohol. "You want to say that again, little boy? You want to run that mouth one more time and see what happens?"

"I just did. You want me to speak slower so you can keep up?"

The man's face went red. His hand came up, fingers curling into a fist that started glowing faint orange at the knuckles.

"Enzo." The woman put a hand on his arm but her eyes stayed on Dante, measuring him, trying to figure out if he was brave or stupid. "He's not worth it. Look at him. Probably an E-rank insect who just crawled out of his awakening and thinks he's something."

"Then let me squash him."

"Touch me," Dante said, and his voice dropped to something quieter, something that made the people in the lines nearby stop talking and turn their heads, "and find out if I'm worth it."

The silence lasted three seconds. Then four figures in black and silver armor materialized from the crowd like they'd been watching the whole time. Guards. Their visors glowed blue, and one of them held up a scanner that projected the woman's face, her name, her record.

"Valentina Greco. Third violation. Power misuse in a public registration facility." The guard's voice was mechanical, bored, the voice of someone who had done this a hundred times. "Enzo Bruni. Third violation. Same charges. Both of you are looking at a six-month suspension of Awakened privileges, effective immediately."

"You can't be serious," Valentina hissed. "That little rat started it. He threatened us."

"Security footage says otherwise, ma'am. Please come with us."

Enzo tried to argue. One of the guards grabbed his arm, and whatever resistance he was planning died the moment the armored grip closed around his bicep. They were lifted out of the line and escorted toward the exit like luggage being removed from a conveyor belt.

Valentina's voice echoed across the hall as they dragged her toward the doors. "This isn't over. I'll find out who you are, you little worm. I'll find out and I'll make you regret ever opening your mouth."

The doors closed behind her. The hall went quiet, then slowly returned to its hum of conversation and shuffling feet.

Dante returned to his spot in line. The girl with the short brown hair was still standing there, her registration form smoothed flat against her thigh, and she looked at him with eyes that were too bright.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that. I really appreciate..."

"Mind your place," Dante said without looking at her. "And stand up straighter. People target the ones who look like they want to disappear."

He turned away. It wasn't heroism. It was principle.

The line moved. His number was called twenty minutes later.

The booth was small, separated from the others by frosted glass dividers. The woman behind the counter was in her thirties, sharp-eyed, dark hair pulled back tight, wearing the Association's gray uniform with a silver pin on her collar. She looked at him the way a customs officer looks at a passport that might be forged.

"Name?"

"Dante Moretti."

"Awakening date?"

"Three days ago. During the incident at Educational Zone 39."

Her fingers paused on the keyboard. Something flickered behind her eyes, a calculation being run, a timeline being checked. Zone 39. The dimensional breach. The erased Blightbearers. She knew the report. Everyone in this building probably knew the report.

"Class?"

"Fallen Priest."

She looked up from her screen. "Fallen Priest?"

"That's what the system gave me."

"That classification isn't in our standard database, Mr. Moretti. I'll need to log it manually." She typed something, and he could see her reading the screen twice before continuing. "Rank?"

"I'd rather not share that."

Her eyebrows rose, just slightly, just enough. "Rank disclosure is voluntary for new registrations, but it does affect your initial benefit tier."

"I understand. I'll pass for now."

She studied him for a long moment, her fingers resting on the keyboard without pressing anything. Then she reached beneath the counter and produced a small metal pin. Circular emblem, faintly glowing, light enough to sit in his palm like a coin but heavy with everything it represented.

"This is your Awakening Badge. It grants you access to low-tier dungeons, use of awakened abilities in controlled zones, and a base monthly income of 25,000 Zen deposited to whatever account you register." She placed it in his hand. "At Rank D verification, you unlock access to the Association store. Rare items, specialized gear, medical insurance that covers immediate family, and advanced training programs. Higher ranks unlock higher tiers."

"Thank you."

"Mr. Moretti." Her voice caught him as he turned. "Fallen Priest is a name I've never seen in fifteen years at this desk. Whatever that class is, wherever it came from, it's going to attract attention. I'd suggest you prepare for that."

He pocketed the badge and walked away.

Her gaze followed him across the hall, steady and sharp, the gaze of someone who knew something was different about the boy who just stood at her counter and couldn't yet name what it was.

But it was only a matter of time before everyone did.