"Wait, I'm Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I'm a Guy!"

Mize, reading the message, smiled softly to himself.

"He's acting like I am unaware of the harsh reality of the upcoming awakening ceremony, how cute... "

However, even from the perspective of other people... such a kind and innocent-looking girl perhaps wouldn't have much deeper thoughts about this issue. Like a naive child that is...

But...

He knew the odds as well as anyone. He knew the facts and the cold reality of the ceremony better than any of his peers at the same age.

The Awakening Ceremony was an enormous gamble since it involved the future of a person's life. Even with his lineage, even with two awakened parents, there was no guarantee that the same fate awaited him. 

"Mhmm," he responded, his tone light as if the weight of the ceremony hadn't fully hit him. "I'm hoping to become one. I'll follow the same path that my mother once took"

The mention of his mother was deliberate. He knew that would tug at Derek's curiosity, maybe even evoke sympathy. 

And, to Mize's satisfaction, it worked. It worked too well, that he began to doubt a little, the authenticity of everything, but this tiny thought was kept at the back of his mind. 

"I see... then a sorcerer, no? that's quite rare... " Derek's question came, his voice sounding thoughtful, perhaps even a little nostalgia in Mize's head. As for why he was assuming Mize was going for a mage, well... women mostly would go for the path of magic. 

"Yup, a sorcerer," Mize replied, his voice crisp and innocent through the text. He made sure to sound confident, unbothered by the uncertainty of the ceremony.

But deep down, Mize knew the reality all too well. The chances of awakening were slim for most, even for someone with an impressive lineage like his. 

The path of the sorcerer, this path is one of the hardest main magician paths that most wouldn't dare to take, but this path is not without any benefits. Possessing a higher stamina pool, stronger endurance, and even... the combat power that could rival many other normal class awakeners. 

All the rumors, all the ancient myths about bloodlines and genetics—they meant nothing when it came down to the ceremony. 

In the end, it was about luck.

And Mize knew that his luck, in most things, had been precarious at best.

Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't play along with whatever was to come. 

Derek stared at his phone, his fingers trembling as they hovered over the screen.

The words "I am sure you will be a great sorcerer one day!" stared back at him, hesitating whether these were the right thing to say at this time. 

'Several days before the time would come, a time where hundreds of millions of people's dreams and hopes would be crushed into ashes'

'And I wouldn't want her dream to be crushed too'

He was bad at this—terrible. Comforting someone, especially about something as monumental as the Awakening Ceremony, wasn't his strong suit.

And yet, he wanted to believe the words he typed. He wanted to believe that Mize, this fragile-looking girl with a quiet smile, would defy the odds. Maybe... it was just a tiny hope of seed that he was praying for. 'Perhaps, she might have a chance'

But the truth lingered in the back of his mind, heavy and unshakable. The odds of awakening were so slim, so cruelly stacked against most people, that the thought of Mize walking away disappointed, crushed even, twisted something deep in his chest.

Before he could overthink it anymore, Mize responded.

"I am sure I will! I'll be one of the greatest mages in this world!" She punctuated her message with an emoji—bright, hopeful, and everything Derek couldn't be right now.

A soft smile curled at the corner of his lips as he read the message.

Childish?

Innocent?

Naive?

But wasn't that what made it so pure? 

And Derek, despite all his cynicism, found himself wishing for that kind of certainty again.

Yet, there was a growing pit in his stomach. He didn't want to see Mize's bright, ruby-like eyes fill with disappointment when reality came crashing down. 

The thought of her crying, of her soft voice cracking under the weight of failure, made him feel... bad.

And yet, he barely met her today, but it was as if, he had known her for years. 

He had seen many of his peers cry, and break into pieces even when it was on that eventful day.

Some were even in absolute utter shock, then till this day, they could never recover. Imagine training your life, under the horrible expectation of your parents to become the pillar of light in your family lineage. To escape from the chain of being a mortal into something extraordinary, but in the end... it failed.

Disappointment

What should I do? he thought, his hand absentmindedly running through his messy hair.

"It's so hopeless at times, that I couldn't stop something from happening despite knowing it would"

He hated how powerless he felt. He knew the truth—only one in a thousand would awaken. Those odds haunted the human race, especially now that Mize had placed so much hope in something so uncertain.

Derek's mind raced, trying to find a way to help her. And then it hit him—like a flash of memory resurfacing from some distant, almost forgotten corner of his mind.

The Luck Potion.

He had heard about it before, seen it even, at the Awakener auction house.

A rare concoction that was rumored to increase someone's chances of awakening. It was insanely expensive, of course—something only the wealthiest could afford. After all, this luck potion involves the idea of tampering with luck and fate, naturally, it would be expensive.

But Derek had connections. He could make it happen.

His hand froze mid-motion, his fingers tangled in his hair, as the idea solidified in his mind. He glanced at his phone on the seat beside him, 'Old friend, please help me this one time'

Meanwhile, Mize, unaware of the storm of thoughts swirling in Derek's head, continued with his night as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

He moved around the kitchen in his small apartment, preparing his usual meal—noodles.

A simple dish, but one that he loved more than anything. In this world, and even the version of it that existed before the awakening, noodles were his constant, his comfort. And his favorite flavor would be BBQ spicy chicken, the one that would make his stomach ache the next morning, churn and twist...

As he boiled water and stirred the noodles, he thought about Derek's message, his innocent excitement.

"He's the type that would try his best to impress me... " Mize began, his eyes fixed on the boiling water on the stove, absent-minded a little. "It's like those romance dramas, where the guy is obsessed with the girl, willing to do anything at the cost of everything"

Mize had been playing this game long enough to know that Derek was the kind of person who desperately wanted to fix things, to protect people like Mize from the inevitable harshness of reality.

He smiled faintly, stirring the noodles in the pot. If only Derek knew just how aware Mize was of the world's cruelty. He wasn't some naive little girl waiting for a miracle.

But Derek didn't need to know that.

No one needs to know this.

As the noodles cooked, Mize leaned against the counter, tapping his foot lightly on the tiled floor.

The steam from the pot curled into the air, soft and comforting, much like the quiet simplicity of his routine.

He caught his reflection in the kitchen window, the dim light casting a soft glow over his pale skin and delicate features.

His black hair fell like dark silk around his face, framing his doll-like appearance. People always said he looked fragile, like porcelain—something to be protected, cherished, or even broken.

Mize smiled softly at his reflection.

He didn't mind the comparisons. After all, it worked to his advantage. Let people think what they want.

Let Derek think he was just some delicate flower in need of saving. It was easier that way.

As the noodles finished cooking, he drained them, his movements smooth and practiced.

Derek lay on his bed, phone pressed to his ear, still caught up in the conversation that had already drifted past him. His words flowed easily now, stories and jokes tumbling out, each one an attempt to keep Mize engaged.

He'd learned so much tonight—bits and pieces of her family, the struggles she'd faced, and even small details about her day-to-day life.

And while Mize never came across as seeking pity, Derek felt that familiar tug in his chest, a need to protect.

Mize, though—Mize was a master of subtlety. She had woven a tapestry of vulnerability so well that Derek didn't even realize how expertly he'd been drawn into it.

Every word she shared seemed delicate, every pause filled with just enough emotion to make Derek think he was being let in on something deeply personal.

It was all an illusion, of course, a carefully crafted act that Mize had honed to perfection. He played the role of the fragile flower, and Derek, unknowingly, played the role of the knight in shining armor.

"...and then," Derek chuckled, finishing his latest story, "I ended up spilling coffee all over the conference table. Can you imagine? The first day at work, and I've already made a mess."

Silence greeted him on the other side.

"Mize?" he called softly. "You still there?"

Nothing but the faint sound of breathing. It was so light, so steady, that it took Derek a second to register what had happened.

A soft smile spread across his face as he listened. Mize had fallen asleep. He could hear the gentle rhythm of her breaths, slow and even, each one a whisper in the quiet of his room.

It was almost endearing, how easily she had drifted off in the middle of their conversation. Vulnerable, like a child, he thought. His heart warmed at the thought.

"She's so vulnerable," he whispered to himself, a strange kind of contentment filling him.

He wasn't entirely sure why, but knowing that she had fallen asleep while they were talking made him feel... needed. Trusted, even.

He lay there for a while longer, just listening. 

Eventually, Derek gently placed his phone down, careful not to end the call too abruptly, as if hanging up would disturb her sleep. He lay back, staring at the ceiling with a smile that wouldn't fade.

And as he lay his back on the bed, his eyes staring towards the ceiling... "I will help you, don't worry"