Ten ways to Awaken

Recently disowned by a senior magus over a forbidden translation. Carries a half-decoded grimoire and a list of names who must never see it.

Has had the same dream for nine nights — a city they have never visited, a face they have not yet met, a death they know they could prevent.

The local Node is dying and you are the only one of your line left to tend it. Something underneath the land is hungry, and tonight it asked for a name.

Your monastery has gone silent. Letters return unanswered, the line is dead, and the route you took as a novice will not appear on any map you can find.

Something is running on the local fibre that should not exist. It writes back when you ping it, in a language you almost recognise.

An ancestor you have never met appeared in the firelight last week and named a debt your family owes. You have until the next new moon to find the payee.

Your latest prototype works. Demonstrably, repeatably, in front of witnesses. The Technocracy has noticed.

Three names appeared on your list this month — one of them your closest friend. The pattern is real; the rationalisations are easy. The hesitation is new.

A miracle happened in front of someone who should not have seen it. Now they want answers, and the local Chorus is divided on whether to give them the truth.

You found a name in a bar last night — someone else who Awakened the same way you did, in the same city, the same year. They have been waiting for you to find them.