Silas wondered just how he got the diary and never got tired of reading it over and over again. As a matter of fact, it had become one of his daily routines. He read it before he got up from bed, and read it before he closed his eyes to enter the dream world.

Silas was the name he chose for himself after losing everything. His parents had died in one of the first roaming rifts, one that had opened right inside their home. One moment, their living was quiet, the dull hum of the refrigerator mixing with his mother’s laughter. Then, before they realized, the air split open as a vertical wound of pale light tore through the room. Things moved inside it. Silhouettes that didn’t match any description of a creature known. They had limbs too long, and moved so smoothly that they were almost invisible. Their eyes glowed like submerged embers. They attacked fast... In a flash of claws and a blur of light, followed by silence.

Silas stood in the center of the destruction, completely untouched. There was no scratch, bruise, or even a torn shirt. For some reason unknown to him, the creatures or whatever they were had ignored him completely. He could still remember that day as if it had happened just yesterday. One of the beasts even smiled at him. He was twelve at that time, in the year 2044, when the world was still wobbling on the edge of transformation. Everything that day felt like borrowed time to him. He had seen death, and it had smiled at him... knowingly.

After that day, he began changing. Most of the changes were through experience, or rather, his trauma. One change that stood out the most was his hair, which had changed from its original brown color to pink. Initially, the changes were subtle, starting from the tips of his hair. Professionals said it was an effect of being too close to a rift, and it looked like they were right. But what Silas knew was that people who appeared close to rifts or survived these rifts awakened very strong abilities. Even the unluckiest of them awakened as a B-rank. But here he was, the lowest of the low. He wasn’t even an F-rank. He had no rank. He was almost 18 years old and still showed no signs of awakening, while everyone in his class had awakened their abilities. Those people hadn’t gone close to rifts, but with the transformation the world went through and technology, they gained access to awakening catalysts, small orbs that held residual energy from rifts.

They weren’t expensive, and almost anyone could afford them. Funny thing was that everyone in his class was rich. No matter how unreal it sounded, he was the only poor person in his class, and maybe the entire school... It wasn’t impossible, not after what he’d experienced.

Before all this, Silas’s family was a well-to-do one. His family wasn’t outrightly rich, but they had more than enough to survive the current world. You could say they were a third-level kind of rich family. Millionaires in their own right. After the incident, the government took him in and sent him to an orphanage, which turned out to be hell. He was bullied for his changing hair color. The government once again came in and sent him to a boarding school, where he started in the 7th Grade and was now in high school, in the same boarding school, Valecrest Collegiate Grounds. As for his inheritance? Let’s just say, he had yet to get it. That was if he would even get it.

Silas stayed in a single room in the male dormitory, a privilege only school prefects and the rich kids enjoyed, which he was not. One could tell by how his room was. It wasn’t small, but not large either. The only things in the room were his bed, a small desk which held his class books, a small but old wardrobe, the kind you wouldn’t even find in an antique store, and two pairs of old Nike sneakers, one black and one white.

To the side was an old blue curtain leading to his washroom. It was a below-normal washroom with a closet, a bath to the side, a cracked bathroom mirror, and a tilted sink that looked as if it was on its last leg. Well, it was.

Getting off the creaking bed, Silas walked towards his washroom, scratching his butt a little and yawning loudly. He wore only a pair of tight black boxers that were tighter around his little brother.

"I will have to get laid one of these days. But I can’t even afford a condom, much less a sex worker," Silas complained as he pressed toothpaste onto his brush and started brushing. Looking in the mirror, he smiled like an idiot while muttering with foam in his mouth.

"These people are really blind. Just look at this face... perfectly sculptured. No doubt!" Should any of his classmates see him now, they would give anything to prove it wrong. Silas? Smiling?

It was like saying the apocalypse would happen 6 years ago... It didn’t make any sense! Maybe it was too much of an exaggeration, but it was given considering the person involved.

"Will this guy get down?" Silas said after rinsing his mouth and looking at the massive bulge in his boxers. It had stretched the fabric so much that he feared it would rip out.

"I’m not even thinking about anything but my face, godammit!" He exclaimed as he hastily removed his boxers and stepped into the bath side of the room. He turned on the cold shower and stepped under it, releasing slow exhales to calm his body down.

"The boners have become very strong in these few days. What’s really happening? Should I go see the nurse? No! What if she rapes me? But, she’s kinda sexy... no!"

After 30 minutes in the bathroom, where he had no choice but to help himself to a release, Silas dried himself and put on his uniform, which was the only new thing among his countable property.

The uniform was a blue shirt with grey trousers and a white vest embroidered with the academy’s crest. The crest sat neatly over the heart: a stylized silver stag standing atop a crescent of laurel leaves, with a faint blue star glowing between its antlers. The thread caught light whenever a student moved, giving the emblem a dignified shimmer that matched the school’s old, quietly proud reputation.

After tying the laces of his black sneakers, he packed his books, tucked the diary under his pillow, folded his blanket, and stepped out of the room, his backpack strapped on one shoulder.

It was another day, and Silas was expectant of what was to come. As for his actual name, he never imagined using it again. Only if he knew how close he was to taking it back. The name was his true identity and his power after all.

"Yo Pinky is here!" A loud, irritating voice shouted in a mocking tone, making him click his tongue in annoyance, but his face was expressionless. He was already regretting ever expecting a nice day.