Free Web NovelChapter 10: Awakener Orientation.
『"Vessel. Contractor. Anchor."』
The lightning struck and Amara braced for impact.
Thick smoke filled the air. Then she realized they were standing inside a translucent blue dome that had absorbed the entire force.
The forcefield hummed as it illuminated the surrounding black smoke with blue light. Outside, scorch marks radiated from where the lightning had struck, the snow completely vaporized in a perfect circle around them.
From the look on Naomi’s face: shock, recognition, and frustrated rage all at once, she knew exactly who this force field belonged to.
So did Amara.
Ethan stood just outside the barrier, one hand raised to his chest level while his other remained pocketed.
His expression was completely unfazed. Meanwhile, Andre palmed his face with the exhausted sigh of someone who’d done this many times before. He hooked Naomi by both arms and started dragging her away as he said, "come on."
Naomi laughed even as her heels dug furrows through the snow, her voice carrying across the courtyard. "Thank your lucky stars! Ethan’s not gonna be there to hold your fucking hands next time!"
"Ethan," Andre called over his shoulder, still hauling her. "Catch you later."
"Yeah..." Ethan’s voice was quiet, almost sad.
Sophia, however, was not one to let things lie. She raised her voice loud enough to ensure Naomi heard every word: "I only see one person’s hands being held here! Well, more like dragged!"
Naomi’s reaction was immediate and visceral. Her face contorted, her laughter cut off mid-cackle, and she actively tried to break through Andre’s grip with renewed fury.
"Let go of me, Andre!" The electricity crackling around her hands intensified as small arcs jumped between her fingers.
Andre kept dragging with that same tired expression, clearly done with this entire situation. "You promise you’ll behave?"
Naomi paused to actually consider the question. Then replied, "No."
"There you go," Andre muttered, adjusting his grip and continued yanking her toward the building’s entrance. Her protests and threats faded as they disappeared inside.
Amara finally had time to catch her breath properly, and a chuckle escaped her lips before she could stop it. "Wow."
The absurdity of it all, nearly being killed before orientation even started, watching a grown woman be dragged away like a tantrum-throwing child, was almost too much.
"Sorry." Ethan scratched the back of his neck like he had something to feel guilty about.
"It’s not your fault," Amara said firmly. She meant it. "You can’t control other people’s actions, only your response to them."
"Well..." Ethan hesitated. "She’s kind of my ex."
Amara had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed made her blink several times in rapid succession. She didn’t want to believe Ethan Bass, with his polished charm and careful secrets, had dated that.
Then again, everyone made mistakes. Some people’s mistakes just happened to involve a homicidal weather manipulator.
She swallowed the urge to ask how long it took him to realize, but instead said, "Must have been rough."
If Ethan had known Naomi before his two years at Pacific Northwest, and their only connection was the Institute, then she’d been awakened for at least that long.
That explained the two glowing bars on her wrists, which Amara suspected was some sort of grade system for Awakeners, and the casual attempted murder.
Experience bred confidence. And sometimes, confidence bred arrogance.
While Amara was processing this information, Hiro leaned in with perfect comedic timing. "I guess we know why he left."
They all burst into laughter almost at the same time. Amara tried to suppress hers, she really did, but she couldn’t. The sound escaped like air from a balloon, and once it started, she couldn’t stop.
It was made even funnier by the fact that Ethan was the only one not laughing, standing there with a long-suffering blank expression.
"Alright, alright." He sighed with his entire body. "Let’s get you guys to orientation."
***
They headed into the building together, and if Amara had thought the outside was impressive, the inside nearly stole her breath.
Seventeenth-century architecture met futuristic technology in a way that should’ve been jarring but somehow worked perfectly. Vaulted ceilings with exposed wooden beams housed holographic displays that floated in midair.
Stone walls carved with intricate period-appropriate details were lined with touchscreen interfaces. Tapestries depicting historical battles hung beside monitors showing real-time threat assessments.
Somehow they’d managed to blend old-world grandeur with cutting-edge innovation without losing either aesthetic.
They moved up an escalator that had been seamlessly integrated into a grand marble staircase, then stepped into a massive lecture theater.
Rows of seats were arranged in ascending circles around a central stage, amphitheater-style. The design ensured everyone had a clear view of whoever stood at the center.
Currently, that someone was an old man with silver hair and a presence that commanded attention without effort.
By the bottom row in the corner sat Andre and Naomi, and they made eye contact across the theater.
"Psycho at twelve o’clock," Sophia muttered. "Don’t make eye contact."
Too late. Amara had already met Naomi’s gaze.
"Let’s try not to attract too much attention to ourselves," She urged as they moved toward empty seats in the middle section.
Unfortunately, attention was coming their way whether they liked it or not.
As soon as the old man noticed them, he pointed directly at their group and announced in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear: "How glad I am that the Five could join us."
Every head in the theater turned to stare, hundreds of them, new and old recruits alike from all twelve branches packed into ascending rows.
Most faces showed confusion, clearly the matter of the Five wasn’t something discussed freely, even among Institute recruits. It was need-to-know information, and most people didn’t need to know.
Murmurs spread through the hall like wildfire:
"The Five? What the hell is that?"
"Aren’t they the ones who picked a fight with Naomi this morning?"
"No way. Nobody’s that stupid."
"Ethan was so cool—"
For the record, Amara thought with growing irritation, they hadn’t picked that fight. Naomi had literally tried to murder them.
As though Ethan could read her mind, or maybe just sense the discomfort radiating from her, he stretched out his pinky finger and hooked it with hers. The gesture was subtle and barely noticeable to anyone watching.
But it was enough.
The attention didn’t feel quite so crushing with that tiny point of contact anchoring her.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Anytime," he whispered back.
They took their seats, and like everything she did, she did so with grace. Head high. Shoulders back. Like she belonged here.
Amara was still wearing Ethan’s jacket. She told herself she was keeping it on because she was still cold, not because she liked having something of his wrapped around her.
Then the old man gestured, and the room that had looked so ancient by design was suddenly filled with holographic screens. They materialized from thin air, floating in strategic positions around the lecture theater.
"You’re all here because you have awakened," he began. "I know some of you have been through this orientation before, but well, tough shit."
Hearing an elderly professor casually drop profanity was jarring enough to pull surprised laughs from several students. Amara had seen weirder things in the last twenty-four hours, but it still made her lips twitch.
The old man moved his hands through several floating screens until he reached a file labeled "AWAKENER INDEX." He tapped it, and an organizational chart filled every screen in the room.
"First of all, you may call me Professor Gaius. We will start with the categorization of Awakeners."
Whispers immediately flooded the room—new recruits excited or nervous or both, older students settling in with the resignation of people forced to sit through repeat information.
Professor Gaius raised one hand, and the whispers died instantly.
"The most common category—" Gaius manipulated the display to highlight a section. "—are Vessels. These are Awakeners who possess Spirit Weapons bonded directly to their souls. The weapon is a manifestation of the Awakener’s essential nature, and cannot be taken, stolen, or used by anyone else."
Amara felt the phantom weight of her sword in her palm as she flexed her fingers.
"Next," the display shifted, "we have Contractors. These are Awakeners who strike deals with external entities like gods, devils, extraterrestrial beings and the likes."
Immediately, the room erupted as waves of disbelief and questions rippled across.
"Gods? Seriously?"
"That’s insane—"
"Does that mean—"
"Settle down!" Gaius’s voice cut through the chatter, and silence fell immediately.
Then he continued as though there had been no interruption. "When a Contractor awakens, they don’t get to decide who reaches out to them. The entity chooses you, not the other way around."
He paced around the center of the hall. "The terms of the contract can be steep or manageable, fair or exploitative. You have the option to refuse, but..." He paused. "Most don’t. The alternative is going through life knowing you could’ve had power and chose fear instead."
Amara felt Sophia shift uncomfortably beside her.
"Let’s have a demonstration," Gaius said. "Naomi, if you would."
Naomi stood and moved like someone who clearly loved being the center of attention, and Amara noticed Andre lean back in his seat with a sigh that said here we go again.
He wasn’t worried about her performance. It looked like he was more worried about what she’d say.
She made her way down to the central stage. Then the distinct pop of bubble gum being blown echoed in the room.
Of course she chewed gum during orientation.
"Naomi Mitchell." She let electricity crackle between her fingers, which then danced up her forearms before she casually discharged it into the air above her head.
The small thunderclap made several students flinch. Then she said, "I’m a Contractor Awakener. Contracted to the Sky Father, don’t ask which one, they’re all the fucking same."
She grinned at the shocked expressions and continued speaking. "When you awaken as a Contractor, you will know by the dreams. Eventually something approaches you in those dreams with an offer. And sure, technically you can refuse." Her grin widened. "But why the fuck would you?"
Hiro leaned toward Amara and whispered. "I’m sorry, did she just say Sky Father?"
"I don’t think anything should surprise us anymore, Hiro," She whispered back.
"Shh!" Raj hissed from her other side. "I’m trying to listen."
She glanced at Raj, genuinely curious. The man had questionable taste. She’d seen him flirt with the most chaotic personalities on campus, so she couldn’t tell if he was actually interested in the categorization system or if he’d somehow developed a crush on the psycho currently on stage.
She hoped it was the former.
Naomi continued, clearly enjoying herself. "An entity can choose to make a contract with multiple Awakeners. Could be two, three, a hundred, a thousand, you get the idea. But it still depends on you and how much power you can actually draw from the source. So a loser will still be a loser even if they had the same contract as me."
The contempt in her voice was clear as day.
"Alright, that will be all, Naomi. Thank you." Gaius dismissed her with a wave.
She returned to her seat, still grinning like she’d won something.
"Now," Gaius continued, shifting the display again, "this brings us to our final classification. Anchors."
He paused, letting the word hang in the air. Then resumed his explanation. "They’re the rarest of the three, and before anyone asks, that has nothing to do with power level."
His expression grew serious. "Anchors are able to tap into fundamental forces, pillars of creation itself. These are forces the Institute has yet to fully understand, but each one appears to serve as a foundational element of reality."
"Anchors draw power directly from these cosmic principles," he finished quietly. "That’s what makes them different."
The old man stopped talking for a moment, letting all of that sink in.
"And that concludes the basic categorization," he said.
Murmurs resumed immediately, voices overlapping:
"Being a Contractor sounds like the worst—"
"At least you get a choice—"
"My spirit weapon sucks—"
The murmurs faded to background noise as Amara focused on her immediate group.
"Wow," Sophia breathed. "That was a lot."
"Tell me about it." Raj stretched in his seat. "At least we’re not forced into crazy deals with cosmic entities."
"Yeah," Hiro responded sarcastically. "We’re just responsible for the safety of the whole goddamn universe! Apparently." He gestured wildly with his whole body.
Amara stayed silent. There was too much to process, and judging by Professor Gaius’s continued presence at the center stage, orientation wasn’t over yet.
"Are you good?" Ethan’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.
She turned to meet his eyes. "Yeah." She straightened in her seat, refocusing. "I’m good."
"Now we discuss the Ranking System," Gaius announced, and the displays shifted to show anatomical diagrams marked with glowing bars at various points on the human body.
Amara’s hand moved to her right ribs instinctively.
"What those bars on your body actually mean," Gaius continued, "and why most of you will never advance past three."
The room went dead silent.
***
[THE THREE TYPES OF AWAKENERS]
🗡️ VESSELS (Spirit Weapon Wielders)
The most common type of Awakeners. Makes use of Spirit Weapons that bond with their user. Examples: Amara’s Angel’s Bane, Ethan’s Bastion shield.
⚡ ANCHORS (Force Channelers)
The rarest type of Awakeners. Awakeners connect to, and draw from fundamental forces of reality.
📜 CONTRACTORS (Deal-Makers)
Awakeners are given the opportunity to trade something to entities for power once they awaken.
