Regus and the other four made their way to one of the testing stations that were positioned around the Puddles. There was an supervisor there waiting for them, supposedly to help them, although this one looked like he would rather be anywhere else.
"Alright, let's get this over with," he said. "Everybody make sure you have your gauntlets on, prepare yourselves, and don't feel any pressure to succeed right now, you can always improve later."
It was quite clearly a rehearsed speech, and it was just as clear that he did not care about what they thought or how hard they tried. The first boy that Regus had recruited stepped up, likely eager to show off his power, but Regus held up a hand, and pointed at John's brother.
"Who do you think you are to order me around? At least say something instead of acting like I should just obey you!" the boy snapped. But John just shook his head, and the girl gave him a pitying look. As he was confused by their similar reaction and what it could mean, John's brother stepped forward to the first machine. he was bolder than Regus had thought.
"Name?" the supervisor asked in a bored voice.
"Peter," the boy responded nervously. "Peter Stan."
The supervisor nodded, jotting it down, and then he gestured towards the machine.
Peter took in a deep breath, and then breathed out slowly. Power started to gather in his hand, though it was a miniscule amount compared to John's. The other four waited and watched while his gauntlets began to pulse faintly orange, barely perceptible.
His power was building up, little by little. Although it was unlikely that he wouldn't run out of power to charge up, they couldn't wait forever. He clearly knew this, because he glanced nervously at the instructor, then gulped, and punched the machine, releasing the power from his body into the metal drum through the gauntlets, which pulsed orange once more, and then fell dead and inert around his hands.
The numbers scaled up, slowly, to seventeen. And they stopped.
But Regus wasn't interested in the number. There were things about it that were much more interesting. Firstly, it seemed that this boy could channel as much energy as he wanted, as long as he took enough time to do it. That could certainly be useful. Perhaps even more useful than John's ability, depending on if his body had a limit and what it was.
And second, his ability didn't seem to have a specific effect on activation, simply releasing energy, like a bomb. This sort of ability was called a "plasma" ability, and it was incredibly rare. Regus wondered if John also had a plasma ability. As he looked towards the other four to instruct John to go next so that he could see the differences back to back, though, there were only three people there. The first boy had decided to go without Regus's permission.
Regus turned his head back towards the machine, and watched the boy stand in front of it. After saying that his name was Rowan Carter, his hands flared up with fire, causing the gauntlets to display a harsh maroon, and then he took a step forward, shouted, and slammed his hands against the drum, the fire whooshing out through vents in the gauntlets, the color vanishing with it until they were no more than over-engineered masses of dull metal. When it cleared out, the number was already past twenty, and continued to move up quickly, until it came to rest on sixty-five.
Certainly not bad. Regus turned his head back towards the others, but then the boy shouted,
"That's what you get for underestimating me! Bet you regret it now, huh?" Regus turned to look, and he was smirking, his arms crossed. He looked like he ruled the world. Or thought he did.
Regus sighed, then gestured over his shoulder.
John understood the motion for what it was, and he limped up to the machine next.
He stopped in front of it, uttered his name, and then cocked his head, studying it like a real opponent. Regus thought he was deciding how much power to use. Clearly he decided that he didn't need his full potential, because he didn't take off his glove, boot, or mask.
Instead, he just punched the machine. To Regus's surprise, the number swiftly counted up to eighty-seven.
So John's ability wasn't even reliant on power. A basic, unenhanced punch could be measured from ten to twelve, based on experiments. And without even activating his ability, he had reached eighty-seven.
Regus was more and more sure that John Stan was incredibly strong.
He could still beat that score. And yet, as they both knew, it wasn't about the score itself. It was about the amount of effort it had taken.
While the girl stepped up, stating her name as Samantha, Regus inspected the machine. As she hit it, he noted the concentration points. This school was a private institution, meaning they had to spend their own money. And, of course, it was much less expensive to have a few sensors that detected force rather than having it all rigged with sensors, which would be more accurate. And of course, that meant that if he hit a certain point, it would read his score as much higher.
It appeared that there were three sensors, one for each digit on the display, getting progressively closer to the edge and more stabilized by the surrounding material, so that each digit was around ten times harder to hit, making an efficient system without it needing to actually evaluate strength based on a scale of three digits. He could tell by the barely perceptible dark waves in the surface, and the slight delay between each digit starting to rise, as well as the way that force was directed across the surface of the machine after it was hit.
Samantha's score was fifteen. And she hadn't even used her ability. Atrius, she hadn't even tried. She certainly was an interesting one. And it seemed like the supervisor was interested as well. Regus had heard of a group that didn't use abilities, intent on training their bodies to perfection, or as near as they could get. It could be that the power he had felt from her was just the force of her presence. This group, who called themselves the Hunters, had an undeniable air of regality, and it seemed that, upon closer inspection, she carried some of that.
Perhaps he should have cast more suspicion on her quick acceptance of his asking her to join his group. Maybe she just wanted to surround herself with powerful individuals, though Regus doubted it. He had found himself embroiled in the center of a group of people who were much stronger than he had at first assumed. At least, half of them were. But that was more than enough to throw him off. He would have to keep up. No, he would have to dominate. If he didn't, he would find himself falling behind.
Regus raised a curled hand, palm up, and then flicked out his forefinger. As he did, he sent a wave of heat out from himself, and a particular ray of telekinetic force to hit the third sensor from the center. By attacking the one that measured the number with the most value, which was the first digit, he would theoretically get the highest score he could. And the direct attack was hidden by the explosion of fire, so he didn't even have to worry about anyone noticing. His gauntlets glowed bright baby blue mixed with a loud maroon.
Unfortunately, it didn't work exactly as he had intended. Not only did he expend a large majority of his finite power, he only got a score of ninety-nine.
And the supervisor didn't even notice that the first digit's display was broken.
"My name is Hashim Kamal," he announced loudly. People from other groups were looking at him now, either distracted by or curious about the flash of bright light. "And you'll be hearing it a lot."