Re-awakening: I Ascended with an Unranked Ability

The palace corridor stretched ahead like a throat swallowing light. Alex walked beside Captain Aldric, his enhanced perception cataloging defensive wards built into the walls, guard positions at regular intervals, the subtle pressure of Master-rank essence signatures stationed throughout the complex.

"The King requested this meeting personally," Aldric said. His voice carried weight that suggested he'd repeated those words to himself several times. "No advisors. No witnesses. Just you and His Majesty."

Alex nodded. Words felt unnecessary. His tactical mind was already racing through scenarios, calculating responses, preparing for questions he couldn't answer honestly without triggering the marker.

They reached ornate doors carved from wood older than the kingdom itself. Two King's Guard stood at attention, their essence signatures burning with controlled intensity that marked decades of refinement.

"Student Ashford to see His Majesty," Aldric announced.

The guards opened the doors without ceremony.

The throne room was smaller than Alex expected. Not the vast ceremonial hall where the King held public audiences, but a private chamber where power didn't need theatrical display. Stone walls bore tapestries depicting historical battles. Windows overlooked training grounds where awakened warriors had honed their skills for generations.

King Kendrick stood near one of those windows. Not seated on the throne, not projecting royal authority through deliberate staging. Just a man in his fifties, silver threading through dark hair, exhaustion carved into features that spoke of three days managing catastrophe.

He turned as Alex entered. Pale eyes studied the student with intensity that felt physical.

"Kael Ashford," the King said. His voice carried none of the formal distance Alex expected. "This is our second meeting. The first was your Awakening Ceremony. You questioned whether royal service would enhance or limit your development."

"I remember, Your Majesty."

"I respected that skepticism then." Kendrick moved away from the window. "I respect it more now, knowing you survived circumstances that killed one hundred forty-eight others."

Alex remained silent. Let the King set the pace.

"Sit." Kendrick gestured to a chair positioned near the throne. Not the throne itself that symbol of authority remained empty. "This isn't interrogation. I want to understand what you experienced."

Alex sat. The chair was comfortable, functional rather than ornate. Designed for genuine conversation, not performance.

Kendrick settled into a chair opposite. Close enough that their conversation felt intimate. Far enough that Alex didn't feel physically threatened.

"Professor Harold reports you fought constantly," the King began. "Sustained combat against multiple beast species. Injury patterns suggesting repeated engagement with S-Class entities. Three days without teammates, without support structure, without the defensive protocols we promised would keep you safe."

The last words carried self-recrimination that surprised Alex.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I fought whatever found me. Running wasn't always an option."

"The realm had artificial structures." Not a question. Statement of fact. "You reported evidence of intelligent presence. Deliberate construction."

"I saw carved stone. Passages that weren't natural cave formations. Signs that dimensional rifts aren't just empty chaos." Alex chose his words carefully. "I was too focused on survival to investigate thoroughly. But yes, there was evidence of organized presence."

Kendrick leaned forward slightly. "Did you encounter these entities directly?"

"I fought what found me," Alex repeated. Technically true. The Masters had controlled the arena, but he hadn't encountered them as direct combatants. "Beast, corruption, threats I couldn't identify. Didn't matter. If it tried to kill me, I defended myself."

The King studied him with those pale eyes that seemed to see through careful phrasing. "You're choosing your words very precisely."

"I survived traumatic circumstances, Your Majesty. Some details are clearer than others."

Kendrick's expression shifted. Recognition, perhaps, that pushing too hard would yield defensive responses rather than useful intelligence.

"Your abilities developed significantly during those three days." The King's tone remained conversational, but Alex felt the weight of calculation beneath. "Professor Harold notes accelerated healing, enhanced recovery capabilities beyond what your Academy records indicated. Combat effectiveness against S-Class entities that first-year students shouldn't survive encountering."

"Survival pressure accelerates learning." Alex met the King's gaze directly. "When running isn't an option, when dying is the alternative, you discover capabilities you didn't know existed."

"That's not just accelerated learning. That's fundamental transformation."

"Perhaps dimensional exposure triggers adaptive responses." Alex kept his voice steady. "I'm not a medical expert, Your Majesty. I only know I survived, and my body learned to prioritize survival more efficiently."

Silence stretched between them. Not hostile, but weighted.

Finally, Kendrick leaned back. "What are your plans after Academy graduation?"

The abrupt topic shift caught Alex fractionally off-guard. "I haven't decided yet, Your Majesty."

"You questioned royal service during the Awakening Ceremony. Skeptical about whether institutional structures enhance or limit individual growth." The King's voice carried understanding rather than reproach. "Has that skepticism changed after experiencing what happens when our institutional protections fail?"

Alex considered carefully. "The Academy's protections failed. But that doesn't mean all institutions are inherently flawed. It means this particular threat exceeded our understanding."

"Diplomatic answer." Kendrick's mouth twisted into something between smile and grimace. "Let me be direct. I'm extending the King's Guard opportunity again. Not because of political obligation or House Ashford expectations. Because you demonstrated capability under impossible circumstances. Because warriors who survive through independent thinking are exactly what the kingdom needs when facing threats we don't understand."

"I appreciate the offer, Your Majesty."

"But you're not accepting immediately."

"I need time to process what happened. To understand what I've become." Alex kept his tone respectful but firm. "Three days ago I was a first-year student learning basic combat theory. Now I'm..." He paused. "Something different. I need to understand that difference before committing to service."

Kendrick nodded slowly. "Fair. Take the time you need. The offer stands."

Alex felt tension ease fractionally. The King wasn't pushing. Wasn't leveraging authority or political pressure. Just offering opportunity and accepting honest uncertainty.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Before you go," Kendrick said, and his tone shifted. Subtle change, barely perceptible. "I'd like to confirm something."

The air changed.

Pressure descended like physical weight. The King's essence signature flared not gradually, but instantly. From conversational warmth to Master-rank intensity in less than a heartbeat.

Kendrick wasn't in his chair anymore.

He moved with speed that made Alex's enhanced perception struggle to track. One moment seated across from him. The next, the King's fist was driving toward Alex's face with enough force to shatter bone.

No warning. No indication. Just sudden, overwhelming violence.

Alex's Combact Echo activated automatically, trying to analyze the threat. The skill that had cataloged every enemy he'd faced, that had provided tactical data on beasts and corrupted entities, simply failed.

No information window. No threat assessment. No data at all.

Just blank space where analysis should have been, as if his enhanced perception was trying to read something written in a language that didn't exist.

Every hair on Alex's body stood rigid. His newly enhanced stamina surged. His tactical mind screamed. The sensation mirrored facing the Warden that moment of absolute certainty that death stood within arm's reach.

Phantom Step activated on pure instinct.

Alex's body flickered through the visible spectrum, phasing just enough that the King's fist should have passed through empty air where his head had been a fraction of a second before. He rematerialized three feet to the left, heart hammering, essence channels burning from the sudden activation.

Something warm and wet ran down the side of his face.

Blood.

Alex's hand moved to his cheek on reflex. His fingers came away red. A shallow cut ran from his cheekbone to his jaw, precise as surgical incision. Not deep enough to be dangerous, but deep enough to draw blood.

The King's fist had still caught him. Despite Phantom Step. Despite his enhanced agility. Despite everything that had kept him alive through three days of hell.

Kendrick stood where Alex had been sitting. His fist remained extended. His expression carried no hostility, no anger.

Just cold, calculating assessment.

The King's essence signature blazed with controlled intensity that made the throne room's temperature spike. His pale eyes tracked Alex with the focused precision of someone who'd just learned exactly what he needed to know.

Alex's tactical mind raced through impossible mathematics. His Combact Eche had failed completely. The skill that had never failed, that had analyzed SS-Class entities and dimensional threats, couldn't process the King at all.

And Phantom Step, the technique that had saved his life against the Warden's dimensional strike, hadn't been fast enough. The King had still tagged him mid-phase with precision that suggested he'd known exactly where Alex would rematerialize.

'How strong is he?' The question burned through Alex's consciousness. 'What kind of power gap am I looking at?'

The Warden had been SS-Class. A guardian that had presided over arena combat for three centuries. Alex had nearly died defeating it, had pushed Emergency Overdrive to its absolute limits.

And the King had just demonstrated speed and precision that made that battle seem like amateur practice.

"Interesting," Kendrick said.

Alex's enhanced stamina kept his breathing steady despite adrenaline flooding his system. Blood continued to drip from the shallow cut, warm against his skin. His body remained in combat-ready stance, weight balanced, essence channels primed for another Phantom Step if needed.

The King lowered his fist slowly.

Neither of them moved.

The pressure in the room remained suffocating. Master-rank power pressing against Adept-level defenses. The weight of three decades of refined combat capability focused entirely on one traumatized student.

Kendrick's expression revealed nothing.

Alex's tactical mind raced through implications, consequences, what this test meant and what his response had revealed.

The King had just attacked him. Without warning, without provocation, with enough force to kill.

And despite Phantom Step, despite enhanced agility, despite everything he'd developed surviving dimensional hell, the King had still drawn blood with casual precision.

The silence stretched.******