Pain exploded in his chest—hot, blinding, and raw.

  Azvoid Larkson staggered back, one hand cmped over his ribs as something unseen tore through flesh, bone… and something deeper. He'd been lying in his creaky bed seconds ago, staring at the water-stained ceiling. Now?

  Now it felt like the universe had reached inside and lit a match.

  Ding!

  System has identified a compatible host: Final living descendant of the Ancient Primordial Dragons.

  Initiating merge…

  "What… the hell…?" he rasped, knees buckling.

  It wasn't just pain—it was transformation. Like fire crawling beneath his skin, setting nerve endings alight.

  He didn't scream, he wouldn't give anything that satisfaction.

  Azvoid had been broken before.

  Abandoned starved and forgotten.

  This wasn't the worst he'd felt and it probably wasn't death, it felt more like a threshold of some sort.

  His obsidian eyes squeezed shut, not in fear, but focus. Not a single tear escaped.

  Merge complete.

  System successfully bound.

  Welcome, Host. You are now connected to the Primordial Dragon Beast Tamer System.

  And just like that, the world tilted.

  Azvoid Larkson's story stopped being a quiet tragedy and became something else entirely.

  ***

  Earlier that evening…

  Under an open sky, beside a slow-moving river, Azvoid sat cross-legged on a stone ptform, breathing slow, steady. The moon cast silver light over the rippling water, and the air smelled faintly of earth and rain.

  Purple strands of hair brushed his shoulders, swaying in the breeze. His eyes remained closed—twin voids behind shut lids, cold and silent as the night.

  Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

  He'd done this ritual every night for years. Alone, always alone.

  And yet he stayed.

  Still, patient and waiting.

  His mind wandered, uninvited, to the things he couldn't forget.

  Parents lost to some expedition no one cared to expin. A boy left behind, six years old, scraping by in alleyways while the world passed him by. The hunger, the cold, the silence. He'd stopped crying before he learned how to beg.

  The world had already decided what he was worth.

  He'd just never agreed.

  A smirk curled one corner of his lips.

  They thought he was a weak powerless piece of trash.

  They didn't see the thing buried inside him, the thing that refused to die.

  That quiet, insatiable need for strength.

  "If I had awakened... would they still spit when they said my name?" he murmured, the words barely louder than the wind.

  That didn't matter anymore now because tomorrow was his sixteenth birthday.

  Tomorrow was Awakening Day.

  ***

  Pnet Arcadia wasn't a pce for the kind or the careful. Power dictated everything, from a man's life to the shape of cities. Thousands of years ago, when beasts poured through rifts and the skies burned, humanity changed. Adapted and evolved.

  Now, society revolved around the System.

  A single Awakening could define a person's entire life. There were three known paths:

  Warriors—those who embodied brute force.

  Magus—those who bent mana to their will.

  Summoners—those who forged soul-bonds with beasts.

  Ranks defined potential, from the hopeless F-rank to the mythic SSS-tier. The higher the talent, the steeper the climb—and the more the world took notice.

  Azvoid didn't expect miracles.

  But he still hoped.

  ***

  The city gates of Maelstrom glowed faintly beneath the night sky, their reinforced alloy glinting under drone-lights. Patrols moved with zy familiarity, their attention already dulled by routine.

  Azvoid strode up the path, steps light but unhurried.

  "I'm back, Dimitri."

  The guard, a mountain of a man with a bit of a stubble, gave him a tired once-over. "Damn it, kid. You keep wandering past curfew like you're immortal."

  "I'm careful," Azvoid said, holding up his scuffed ID card.

  Dimitri sighed but waved him through. "More stubborn than smart. You'll fit right in someday."

  The outskirts of Maelstrom were all rust and broken dreams. Azvoid passed flickering streetmps and boarded windows, the hum of distant power lines overhead. His building leaned slightly to one side, like even concrete had grown weary.

  He fiddled with the key until the door finally groaned open.

  "Piece of junk," he muttered.

  A sound made him pause, the creak of a nearby door. A girl peered out, long bck hair veiling most of her pale face. They locked eyes for half a heartbeat.

  She said nothing.

  Neither did he.

  The door clicked shut again.

  Azvoid stepped inside, letting silence swallow him. His apartment smelled faintly of dust and old wiring. One bed, one shelf, one ceiling fan that hadn't spun in years.

  It was pathetic but It was home.

  He colpsed onto the mattress, hands behind his head, eyes fixed on the cracks above.

  "Tomorrow," he whispered.

  But fate didn't give a damn about schedules.

  ***

  Ding!

  System has identified compatible host: Final living descendant of the Ancient Primordial Dragons.

  Beginning integration in 10… 9… 8…

  Azvoid jolted upright, breath catching.

  "What… is this…?"

  Then came the pain.

  It was… indescribable. Muscles spasmed. Bones cracked. His veins burned. It was as if something primal was trying to unmake him, to peel him open and pour something new inside.

  His throat locked around a scream, but it never escaped.

  He grit his teeth.

  He endured.

  This wasn't the first time he'd suffered. It just happened to be the first time it meant something.

  Then, suddenly, it stopped.

  Integration complete.

  System online.

  Welcome, Host. You are now bound to the Primordial Dragon Beast Tamer System.

  Azvoid's body trembled.

  He blinked—and a translucent screen blinked to life before him, yered with stats and unreadable symbols.

  He stared at it. Then, for the first time in years, he ughed.

  Not the bitter kind, the kind that said:

  It's my fucking turn now...

  ****

  Supreme Dragon Beast Tamer System Activated]

  Name: Azvoid Larkson

  Race: Human

  Bloodline: Last of the Ancient Primordial Dragon Lineage

  ***

  System Functions Unlocked: (Currently Inaccessible)

  Ancient Primordial Extraction

  "In the beginning, there was Chaos. From Chaos, the Ancient Primordial Celestial Dragons were born—sons of entropy, fathers of all talent. As the st bearer of their bloodline, recim what was stolen. Extract talents from all races. Restore the Dragonblood."

  Ancient Chaos Celestial Realm

  You are now the inheritor of the Ancient Chaos Celestial Realm. Summon draconic beings bound to your bloodline.

  Son of Chaos

  Your chaotic blood grants limitless potential. You possess the highest affinity with all elements. You are favored by the primordial disorder.

  ***

  Base Stats:

  Strength: 0.7

  Agility: 1.0

  Constitution: 1.1

  Defense: 0.2

  Charm: 1.0

  Intelligence: 2.0

  ***

  Azvoid blinked. The glowing blue panels reflected in his wide, sleep-deprived eyes.

  "Thi… this… what… is happening…?"

  His voice came out hoarse with disbelief.

  For a long second, he just stared—his brain catching up with what was clearly either divine intervention or the best damn dream he'd ever had.

  Then it hit.

  "Wait… this… this is real?"

  A rush of heat surged up his spine, and suddenly—he ughed.

  It wasn't a polite chuckle or a shocked giggle. No, this was a full-blown, madman's cackle. Wild, unfiltered, echoing through the paper-thin walls of his apartment.

  "HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!"

  He spped a hand over his mouth mid-ugh, remembering his neighbors probably already thought he was unhinged. Not that he cared. Not tonight.

  His eyes flicked back to the system screen.

  "Ancient Primordial Extraction…" He read it again. "Basically… I can steal—no, recim—talents from anyone?"

  His grin turned savage.

  "Well, tough luck, peasants. You weren't born with a divine cheat code, were you?"

  He kept scrolling.

  "Summon dragons, master a celestial realm, infinite elemental affinity… This isn't a system. This is a goddamn bloodline manifesto."

  Yet as his excitement surged, a detail snagged his eye.

  Everything was greyed out. Locked. Inaccessible.

  A flicker of disappointment passed through him, but it didn't st long. His gut told him this was just the beginning. Once he awakened his true talent, the system would fully open.

  "No one's gonna be able to keep up with me. Not when I've got this."

  But even as his blood pumped with anticipation, a grounding thought settled in.

  Power without effort? Worthless.

  The system gave him a path, but it was on him to walk it. And Azvoid wasn't the kind to take shortcuts. Not anymore.

  He stood by the window. Outside, dawn was creeping in—painting the sky in soft gold and red. Had the night passed that fast?

  His body ached. He groaned, dragging himself from bed like a man who'd just fought a war in his sleep.

  "Aaaaargh… shouldn't have stayed up that te…"

  He stumbled into the shower, letting cold water bst the fatigue from his system. It didn't wash away the grin on his face, though.

  "Ah… the life of a loner," he muttered, towel slung around his neck.

  He didn't hate solitude. But today, it didn't matter. Today was the start of everything.

  He slung on his jacket and stepped into the morning light.

  Destination: Silvermoon Academy.

  The pce where talents awakened.

  The pce where destinies were forged.

  The pce where he'd begin his ascent—to the top of the world, and beyond.

  "Aaaaaaargh… world-defying talent… supreme protagonist energy… here I come…"