Each student picked unit-based courses—2-unit, 3-unit subjects based on difficulty and credit. This flexible model allowed high school students to build a strong foundation in multiple disciplines before finally narrowing down their field of study later.
And it worked. In twenty years, some of what was once university content would likely shift down to high school, simply because the human capacity was rising.
It made exams brutal.
Michael didn’t slow down.
If anything, he sped up.
Time ticked on. One hour passed. Then two.
Outside, students were sweating. Groaning. A few had even dropped out already—disqualified for accessing external aids or failing behavioral checks.
It didn’t matter the era. Some things were still going to happen because the world didn’t lack daring people.
Michael remained steady.
At the 3-hour mark, the system chimed.
[Test Complete. Thank you for your participation.]
Michael sat back in his seat, stretching slightly.
He closed his eyes briefly and waited for the instructor’s signal to dismiss as several thoughts flashed his mind.
Michael wasn’t just stretching his limbs—he was organizing the flood of information in his mind.
As the overhead voice confirmed dismissal row by row, Michael was among the first to leave.
He stood and exited quietly.
Outside, some students looked dazed. Others were frantic, comparing answers or checking forums.
A boy leaned against a railing, muttering, "I only got to question 620..."
Another girl snapped, "You’re lucky. I only reached 450. I blacked out during the logic matrix."
Michael didn’t linger.
He already knew most students wouldn’t finish all 1,000 questions. That wasn’t the point. The exam wasn’t designed to be finished. If you could, good. If you couldn’t, just do your best.
It was designed to measure you. .
All you needed at the end of the day was to get a good mark to enter a university.
There are three different university tracks and how one’s score affected them.
Liberal Academies – For civilians and supernaturals with limited potential. Minimum score was 500. It sounded low, but the difficulty of the questions made it far from easy.Cultivation Academies – Primarily for cultivators and secondarily for awakeners who couldn’t qualify for the elite Awakeners’ Academies. Minimum score was 350.Awakeners’ Academies – The top tier. Only for awakeners. The minimum score was also 350.
These weren’t just names. Your placement determined the techniques, resources, and reputation you’d be exposed to for the next years of your life.
A good score could get you into a university. It could even grant a scholarship which was valued by anyone.
Michael’s steps slowed slightly as he exited into the main courtyard.
Thanks to the Supernatural Association forums, he had learned all this even without interacting with people as of late.
By the time the exam ended, it was already past two in the afternoon. The sun had begun to dip slightly westward, casting long slants of golden light across Bright academy.
Michael stepped out, ignoring the noise of students buzzing with questions and self-doubt behind him.
According to the officials, exam results would be released later that night—perhaps even earlier if the system’s auto-grading finished ahead of time.
More importantly, those seeking entry into a supernatural academy—Awakener or Cultivation—had been instructed to return tomorrow for the second round of testing.
Of course, they needed a good score to even think of coming.
Michael didn’t know what the second test entailed. Part of him also wondered if this would be the portion broadcast publicly.
But for now, Michael had no reason to remain at school.
Michael stepped out the school gates.
Had this been before his advancement to Rank 2, he would have returned home, found a quiet place to lie down, and transferred his consciousness to his body in the Land of Origin.
Even as he walked beneath the clear afternoon sky of Aurora, another version of him—his other self—was currently seated on a crude wooden chair inside the town hall of Thornvale, listening to a long-winded owl talk about shiny things and shiny things while reading a document with one hand and feeding it fruits with the other.
Michael could feel both realities like parallel tracks running side by side.
It was subtle—like background music in a different room. But it was constant.
Michael ordered an artificially driven cab and gave the address for the local Supers Association Branch.
Since he had the time, he might as well register his new Awakener Rank officially.
Doing so would update his records and increase his access level within the Association’s internal system. It would also open the doors to new information that were previously restricted.
And besides, it was better to get it done early.
Michael arrived fifteen minutes later.
The Supers Association Branch in Brightgate City was far more pleasing than the one in woodstone.
Inside, Michael headed to the receptionist.
The woman at the desk looked up with a professional smile.
"Welcome to the Brightgate Supernatural Association. How may I help you today?"
Michael returned a polite nod. "I’d like to update my Awakener Rank."
Her smile brightened. "Of course. Please proceed to the verification terminal at Desk 4."
Michael followed the direction and approached a middle-aged man with gray streaks in his short black hair. The man looked up, then gave a casual nod as Michael stood before him.
"You here to update status?" he asked, eyes already scanning Michael’s appearance.
Michael gave a short "Yes," and added, "I just advanced to Rank 2."
The man raised a brow, slightly intrigued. "Awakener or Cultivator?"
That made the man pause for a second. Michael looked young. But he didn’t voice that thought. Instead, he leaned back slightly, assessing him with new interest.
The man tapped a few buttons. "Alright, let me get your ID token... You have it?"
Michael passed it over.
The man glanced at the terminal.
He quickly checked the awakening date. It clearly showed: Three Months Ago.
There was a flicker of disbelief that danced across the man’s face before he covered it with a neutral expression.