Regus waited behind the starting line for the rest of his squad to catch up, and then he knelt down on one knee.
If his calculations were correct, he could blast himself across the finish line without even moving a muscle with the power he had stored up. And he didn't doubt that he would be able to obtain more energy before or during the third test. He just needed to make sure that he didn't run himself dry, otherwise he would lose his stored abilities.
Regus gripped the pendant tightly in his pocket. The warmth of the power inside was muffled by his hand, which caused it to only emit a feeble light, easily snuffed by the thin layer of his pants.
Then he breathed in, drew a small amount of it, and tore.
For the others, they would be getting ready. But Regus? His trial end when the race began.
Using the power stored inside the pendant, Regus reached out with his mind and ripped a small hole in space. By separating whatever was there, he could create a small vacuum, gaining the force necessary to push himself forward that he wouldn't otherwise have had.
Of course, this was purely theoretical. That there were small particles inside of every state of matter had never been confirmed, and neither had the space between them. The only thing they knew was that they needed an explanation for why and how you could melt metal, and then reforge it into another shape while retaining its original properties.
Of course, Regus would...
He cut himself off. He would confront that tonight, not now.
But now, he could feel the pull. Straining his concentration to the limit, Regus reached out a hand, slowly, though that was as quickly as he could do it. If he made a motion as if preparing, that would likely delay the start of the race. He didn't know how much time had passed since they had arrived at the starting line, but he assumed that he was stretching the limits now.
As soon as he felt the cool, packed ground beneath his fingertips, he devoted his entire attention to creating the tunnel he would travel through.
With enough energy, instantaneous transportation was possible.
The idea was that he would allow the stream to pull him across to the finish line, assuming that if the matter was not there, it would pull him in and then force him out to the other side within a second at most, as it frantically attempted to right itself without his control, sealing the space again before anyone else could traverse it.
It was perfect.
But he didn't have enough energy.
Regus's power gave out as he was holding it in place, waiting for the jarring blast that would signal the start of the race and shock him out of his concentration, causing him to lose hold on the pathway, and it would then suck him in and transport him.
At least, that was the hope.
What actually happened was that he lost control before he was shocked out, some intrinsic part of himself warning him to maintain certain levels of power or he would lose his accumulated abilities.
And as he reached that threshold, he automatically released his hold.
And blinked across the finish line.
Regus would have to bite into his body's energy to maintain his abilities.
He stood up, and opened his eyes. He hadn't even noticed closing them. The people around him were staring. They had no idea what had just happened. First the display of the strength test, and now this?
He was across the finish line before the race had begun.
And he hadn't taken even a single step.
Regus turned around, observing. Shock, awe, jealousy, respect, all of these and more, just as one would expect after such a display.
No one had ever been known to have multiple abilities, but now there would be rumors.
Regus walked, his head high and proud, his gauntlets stained a solid baby blue with a hint of maroon, mixed evenly, as he stepped back over the starting line and turned.
The blast went off, but the overseer's voice was weak as he announced the start of the race.
The other four ran.
John didn't use his ability, again, and neither did the girl. Peter used a moment to start gathering some strength, and then he dashed forward, propelling himself across the finish line in bounds behind Rowan, who was doing something similar, just without the charging.
And Regus, he just walked. Slow, measured, simple. His gauntlets were still fading slowly, turning back to grey.
Like a king down a hall, he paraded himself, not bothering about time, or to glance left and right, as a princess receiving love from the masses. And once he got to the other side, he shook the hands of each member of his squad, as was customary, gaining back the energy necessary to maintain his power, and perhaps even something more.
Instead of lining up or going around in a circle, as students usually did, each of the other four had already met with the others by the time he reached the end, so as he stepped across the line, a few dozen seconds behind Peter, they lined up and shook his hand, one by one. Another action to set Regus apart. He was no commoner, no simple plebian aiming higher than his station.
No, he was Regus, a king without restraint. And soon he would have subjects, but it did not matter.
For Regus had dominated utterly twice now, and yet his scores, while respectable at least when averaged, were nowhere near the top. But that did not matter. They knew who he was. And they would not soon forget.
The test went, once again, not exactly as Regus had planned, but even better than he could have expected. This was true perfection.
But Regus was not done. They had yet to participate in the third test, the practical application test.
Obviously, he couldn't take out the beast himself. He had to choose someone and assist them to utilize their ability, otherwise the credit would go to him. The more he looked like he was playing the long game, the better it was for him. Others wouldn't expect him to actually be building up strength in his faction as quickly as possible, which was what he planned to be doing.
But that would come with tomorrow. There was a break in the testing, and although ostensibly half of it happened today, everyone knew that the practical application was the only test that truly mattered, aside from duel pairings. Duel pairings were essential for social constructs within the school, but anyone looking forward to their life in the Mobile Defense Force cared much more about what happened in the practical application test.
The whole of tomorrow would be dedicated to the practical application, and the fourth test would take place around and between groups performing the third. Building Four would be dedicated to the battles, with each of the ten rooms having a different type of terrain, at least one from each of the seven districts. Regus's group, being Group Fourteen, would go in the second wave.
Even the current general attended to watch the tests and assist if something went wrong, which means that Romania would be there.
Romania. General Romania, rather. The first known person who had effectively utilized a plasma ability, refined almost to perfection by the will of her mind alone, it was said that anyone could use an ability to their advantage in a fight if Romania had.
And just like that, Regus had a plan.
But he would need to wait until tomorrow to put it into action.
For tonight, he had something to confront.
Regus stood by the finish line as if judging those who were crossing it. Five by five, the squads of Group Fourteen came up and ran, flew, or leaped across the space between the start and finish.
As they did, the lines blurred between Regus's mind. Start and finish. It didn't really matter, did it? The end and the beginning. After it ended a thing was gone, and it was gone before it began. Space was just that, only space. Nothing more, yet nothing less.
But it was less, wasn't it? What was to stop him from bending space? A rule was never absolute, not when there were those who challenged it. And there were many who challenged it. Any ability that involved teleportation, telekinesis, transportation. Even simple strengthening, speeding up, it all manipulated space. In this world, there was no firm concept of space except that which was imposed upon it by humans.
And Regus would not be another of the masses.
It was now the final race. One last group, likely the weakest yet, because of their later positioning. Groups jostled for slots normally, though no one had opposed Regus going first. The strength test had determined that order, at least for now.
Regus raised his hand on instinct, and as the starting sound blast rang out, he squeezed his fist.