Rain sat motionless on the cold stone floor for what felt like an eternity. At first, a void surrounded him, no thoughts, no feelings, simply the empty numbness of shock.

  Then, slowly, his mind began replaying his Selection. Every detail, over and over, all reaching towards a single conclusion.

  'I'm screwed.'

  He'd read plenty about the Selection. Heard the rumors. But no one had ever mentioned being shown the future instead of a memory.

  'Am I... a prophet? A seer?'

  'How far in the future was it? Who were those people with me?'

  The questions kept piling up until all paths circled back to the one that mattered most.

  'Can I change the future?'

  He'd seen himself die. Reduced to ashes beneath the crushing blow of a tree giant. The image was so vivid he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He swallowed the sound quickly before his neighbors decided he'd lost it.

  'Ahhh... I really can't catch a break, can I?'

  One thing was certain: he had to try to change his fate.

  'Alright... in the future, I'll know exactly when it starts. So... I'll just do the opposite of what I did before.'

  Not much of a plan, but it was the only one he had.

  He pushed himself to his feet, shuffling toward the tiny bathroom to wash his face—only to freeze mid-step as another thought hit.

  'Wait... if I saw that vision, then future me must have seen it too... which means he knew exactly what was coming and still died.'

  'Was that the future I tried to avoid, and by doing the exact opposite of things, I was the one who caused it to happen?'

  The spiral dragged on until exhaustion won. He let out a sharp grunt and slammed his hand against the sink. Metal shrieked as it bent, a jagged corner snapping off and clattering onto the floor.

  ...Silence.

  Rain stared at the broken fixture, clutching his head.

  'Just kill me now.'

  Leaving the ruined sink behind, he moved to the small kitchen and carefully used the other faucet to splash water on his face. His newfound strength took him by surprise. Clutching his fist, he realized that he was truly on the way to becoming a Blessed.

  'Oh... right. Guess I'm moving out now. To the training camp.'

  Every newly Selected was sent to one, one month before their venture into the Mirror, by the government. They called it the Blessed Preparatory Training. In reality, it was a crash course in survival.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Those from the Great Houses had private training long before their Selection. The camps? They were for everyone else. For people like Rain, people from the bottom.

  'It's about four in the morning... they'll do their rounds at nine.'

  Something on the floor caught his eye. A shard of glass, roughly the size of his hand, was glinting faintly in the dim light.

  'My Reflection.'

  He picked it up. It felt cool to the touch, like holding a piece of frozen dusk. Sometimes a faint red shimmer ran across its surface, but most of the time it was nothing more than a black void. Only at the right angle did it show his reflection, thankfully normal this time, unlike the warped shard from before the Selection.

  Every Blessed had one. A Reflection was more than just a symbol. It was an indestructible link to their soul, storing and revealing their abilities, artifacts, enchantments, everything. And when a Blessed died, it shattered.

  Closing his eyes, Rain willed his new power to surface. The shard dissolved into shimmering dust, reforming in the air as a translucent surface.

  Name: Rain

  Rank: Amber

  Reflection: Aspect of Fire

  A deep fire burns in your soul, honed by a will to survive.

  Artifacts: –

  Enchantments: –

  Sorcery: –

  His gaze lingered on one line.

  'Aspect of Fire.'

  'A will to survive, huh? The Mirror got that one right.'

  A quiet chuckle slipped out. At least it was something, a Reflection with real combat potential.

  However, his smile didn't last; changing fate wasn't easy, likely impossible. But it was either that... or die. And quitting wasn't in Rain's nature.

  'I need to train. One month isn't enough to master a blade from scratch. That means my Reflection is my only hope.'

  Artifacts were weapons and armor forged or earned in the Mirror. Enchantments were trinkets that enhanced the Blessed in subtle but invaluable ways. Both could be crafted or looted from fallen Shards.

  Sorcery, though, that was different. It was mastery over one's Reflection. And no one could hand it to you.

  Now that he'd been Selected, Rain could sense mana, the unseen current that fueled every Blessed. In theory, it meant he could learn any form of sorcery. In practice... not so much. A Reflection gave you instincts for your sorcery, but going beyond that was like wandering through a labyrinth blind and deaf. Some find the way after years, if not decades, of trying. Fire was his path, so trying to summon water would be pointless, especially since his life was at stake. Because of this, most Blessed focused only on their Reflection and their personal sorcery, making most Blessed unique.

  At least the training camp would give him a start. Physically, he was at a disadvantage; he had never trained in any martial arts or swordsmanship, but sorcery? Everyone started from zero, so the endorsement was the training camp's focus.

  Rain stretched out his hand and closed his eyes. The memory of the vision from before filled him, the heat, the fire, the destruction bubbling inside. Focusing on the warmth and heat of the flame, Rain concentrated his very being onto his hand. When he opened his eyes, a small flame hovered above his palm.

  For others, it would be dangerous. For him, it was just... warm. Comforting.

  His chest tightened. Before his death in the vision, he had seen them. The clear faces of his parents, sitting by a warm fire in his childhood home. A memory he had forgotten, buried beneath years of scavenging and hunger, returning to him in his last moments.

  He closed his fist. The flame vanished, but his will only burned brighter.

  'I won't die. I'll make sure of it.'

  Lying back down on the bed, Rain let himself rest for a few more hours. Tomorrow, his real journey began.

  At seven o'clock, he rose, still tired. Packing didn't take long, not that he had much. A few changes of clothes, some sanitary items, and his father's old watch. All of it stuffed into the plastic bag Granny had given him.

  Opening the apartment door, he glanced once more at the rusty walls around him.

  Strangely enough, he felt happy. Sure, he was fated to die. But death was already an old acquaintance. At least now, he had a chance to make something of it.

  His life had been nothing but hardship. But his will? That had never broken.

  Taking a deep breath, Rain stepped out of his apartment and shut the door behind him. Likely for the last time.

  'I hope the landlord can forgive me for the sink...'