Michael felt a pressure on his chest weighing him down. His breaths came short and fast, trying to get as much oxygen into his bloodstream as possible.
"Ugh." He let out a groan as his eyes flickered beneath his eyelids. The pain was beginning to grow unbearable, causing him to try and shift to alleviate the pressure.
In the next moment his eyes snapped open. "W-What's happening?"
A surge of panic rose from within as he took note of his surroundings. The crater that he'd been hold up in had collapsed, burying him beneath the rubble, unable to move.
Soft moonlight entered through the cracks, illuminating what little he could see in front of him. No… Wasn't I meant to be dead already? Why is this happening?
Michael tried to move his body and alleviate some of the pressure on his chest, however he was well and truly stuck. Reality sunk in, causing a wry smile to appear on his weary expression.
To survive the mana storm, yet get buried alive shortly after—his fate was truly bleak.
"I guess fate didn't like my choice words earlier…" Michael chuckled darkly, evoking a few coughs to escape his mouth. The breath kicked up some dirt and dust, making it even more difficult to breathe.
Damn it… This is the worst. If I had some mana, I might be able to squeeze myself out. He thought pitifully, knowing full well that he had already emptied his mana reserves thinking that he would die anyway.
He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing which proved to be difficult. It was only after a few minutes of struggling that Michael finally entered a meditative state.
Like usual, he tried to sense the surroundings for any traces of mana. As long as there was something nearby, there was a chance of refilling his reservoir.
"What's that?" Michael frowned, his minds eye locking onto a small but dense pool of mana in the vicinity. It felt different from what he had experienced before.
There's no time, his breathing hitched, almost knocking him out of his meditative state. Michael was forced to abandon any sense of caution, lest he suffocate to death.
Using his will, Michael coaxed the dense mana towards him. With no owner, mana in the open was completely malleable. As long as he had a strong will, there would be no way for the mana to inhibit him.
However, this mana was different. It was barely following his instructions, its movements making no sense whatsoever. With some difficulty, he was able to bring it close enough to his body in order to absorb.
Here goes nothing…
Michael opened his pores, a gentle suction force coming out from them as he tried to absorb the chaotic mana in the vicinity. But instead of being uncooperative like it had before, the mana rushed towards his body like a predator pouncing upon prey.
"ARGHHH!"
A myriad of emotions went through Michael's mind as he felt the influx of chaotic mana enter his body, yet all he could do was scream in agony as it reeked havoc on his insides.
If he wasn't pinned to the ground, he might have flapped around like a fish who'd been taken from the ocean and placed onto dry land. But he was forced to remain in place as he was destroyed from the inside out.
It hurts so much…
Please make it stop.
Through his screams, his adolescent mind began to fray from the torture, threatening to implode. Michael's fingernails splintered as he clawed at the tough ground beside him yet the pain was nothing compared to what he was experiencing inside.
The torture continued for what felt like an eternity as he writhed in place, trapped under the rubble. Through his closed eyes, a familiar face appeared in his mind, her expression filled with love and affection.
Mother… I'm sorry. I couldn't get revenge on those people…
"You must survive Michael. You're strong, you always have been." Michael's mother's voice echoed in his mind, her words filled with the same kindness she'd always given him.
But he couldn't respond as the pain soon reached a fever pitch. He lifted his head and screamed, feeling his body about to explode.
In the next moment, he felt the weight which was pushing him down suddenly alleviate, allowing him to suck in a proper breath of air. Michael's eyes flashed open, only to see the rubble suddenly give way, falling down beside him.
"W-What happened?" he muttered in shock.
As the words left his mouth, Michael suddenly realized that the pain had already subsided. In fact, his body felt significantly better than even before he'd been buried alive.
Extremely confused, he slowly got up to his feet and gave himself a once over. There were no obvious signs of injuries, let alone bruises, or any indication that he had almost been crushed to death earlier.
But what he saw next almost caused him to cry out in shock. Michael raised his hand and stared at his ring, the one which had caused him to face scorn and ridicule from everyone he'd known.
A gentle flicker of yellow met his eyes, eliciting a feeling of both wonder and confusion. After absorbing the chaotic mana, his ring had ascended from white to yellow, something he never thought was possible.
"Impossible… I shouldn't have been able to ascend." Michael muttered, his voice strained from his earlier screaming.
The color ring that a mage was born with not only distinguished their status, but also dictated their mana capacity and overall potential. Michael who was born with the dimmest white ring possible, was essentially a cripple.
Throughout his 10 years of life, his mother had tried her best to feed him many rare and expensive materials so he could to ascend to a yellow ring. Yet no matter how much she tried, his pitiful potential held him back.
Michael had already accepted that he would be stuck as a white ringed mage for the remainder of his life. But what was staring at him was not one, but two yellow rings glowing in the darkness.