The cacophony of the Hero High cafeteria was a physical force, a wall of sound built from the clatter of trays, the buzz of a thousand conversations, and the occasional, unchecked burst of nascent superhuman energy. Ark sat with Elster and Kyle at a table near a panoramic window that offered a stunning, and slightly intimidating, view of the academy's training grounds. He pushed a piece of synthetic potato around his plate, his appetite having fled the moment the temporary examinee badge had been locked onto his wrist.
The System was a silent, watchful presence in his mind, its interface a faint, blue-hued ghost at the edge of his perception. He could feel it processing the environment, a cold lens analyzing the heat and noise of the world he was trying to infiltrate.
"You've gotten quiet again," Elster noted, her voice gentle but probing. She sipped from a cart of juice, her emerald eyes fixed on him. "Is it Brody? Don't let him get to you. He's just a speck of dust."
Kyle, mouth full of a protein-rich burger, nodded vigorously. "Yeah, man! You totally owned him back there. The look on his face! Priceless! He looked like he'd swallowed a bug."
Ark managed a thin smile. "It's not Brody." That, at least, was the truth. Brody had been reduced to a [Low-Threat] footnote. The churning in his gut was for a much larger, more abstract reason. He was about to walk into an exam designed for demigods, armed with nothing but a secret that felt both immense and terrifyingly fragile. "Just… pre-test jitters, I guess."
"Jitters? You?" Kyle laughed, swallowing his food. "Dude, you just annihilated the written exam. This is the easy part for us! We get to finally cut loose and show them what we can do!" A small, controlled flame danced for a second on his fingertip, a tiny sun of confidence.
Elster, however, was not so easily convinced. She watched Ark, her head tilted slightly. There was a new stillness to him, a solidity in his posture that hadn't been there yesterday. The way he had calmly guided them away from Brody… it wasn't the reaction of the boy they'd known for years. That boy would have been trembling, his eyes downcast. This Ark had met Brody's gaze with a unsettling calm, his silence more powerful than any retort.
Before she could voice her thoughts, the air in the cafeteria changed. The ambient noise dipped, then died altogether as a smooth, synthesized female voice echoed from hidden speakers.
"Attention, all first-year candidates. The practical examination will commence in five minutes. Please proceed to the Central Gymnasium immediately. Repeat, proceed to the Central Gymnasium immediately."
A collective surge of energy rippled through the room. Chairs scraped back, trays were discarded into receptacles, and the buzz of conversation returned, now charged with a potent mix of excitement and nerves.
"This is it!" Kyle exclaimed, jumping to his feet, his earlier meal forgotten. "Time to show them what the future looks like!"
Elster stood more gracefully, her expression a mask of focused calm. She gave Ark one last, searching look before offering an encouraging smile. "Ready?"
Ark took a deep, steadying breath. The [Quest: The Crucible of Heroes] glowed insistently in his vision. Time Remaining: 4 minutes, 52 seconds.
"As I'll ever be," he said, and followed them into the flow of bodies.
The hallways of Hero High were a river of aspiring heroes, all funneling towards the same destination. The architecture was awe-inspiring—vaulted ceilings, walls adorned with murals depicting legendary battles against Gate-born monstrosities, and polished floors that reflected the frantic movement. Senior students, easily identifiable by their more advanced year-badges and the controlled power that radiated from them, lined the corridors. They watched the incoming fresh blood with expressions ranging from amused nostalgia to blatant appraisal.
"Check out the newbies," a tall senior with bark-like skin commented to his friend, whose hair drifted around her head like living smoke.
"Lots of flash, not much substance, probably," Smoke-Hair replied, her voice a dry whisper.
"Hey, look! A Pyro! Always so dramatic," another senior laughed, pointing at a candidate who was leaving a trail of faint smoke from his boots.
Ark moved through the throng, his enhanced Perception absorbing everything. He saw the subtle hierarchies forming already, the clusters of candidates from prestigious hero families sticking together, the lone wolves with intense glares, the groups of friends like his own, drawing strength from their bonds.
But one observation nagged at him. Among the sea of first and second-year seniors, there was a distinct absence. The third-years were nowhere to be seen. It was strange. Shouldn't they be the most interested in evaluating the next generation? He filed the question away, a puzzle for another time. His immediate survival was a more pressing concern.
The Central Gymnasium was not a gymnasium in any conventional sense. It was a colossal, circular coliseum, larger than any sports arena Ark had ever seen on a screen. The domed ceiling was a vast holographic projector, currently displaying a serene, blue sky with fluffy white clouds. Tiered seating rose steeply on all sides, and already, faculty and senior students were filling them, creating a low, expectant hum. The center of the floor was a complex arrangement of what looked like raised metallic platforms, obstacle courses, and dormant machinery, all surrounding a central dais where a single figure stood.
The air in here was different. It was cool, filtered, and carried the faint, sterile scent of ozone and advanced polymers. It was the smell of a testing ground, a laboratory for power.
Candidates milled about on the main floor, their voices echoing in the vast space. The bravado from the hallways was amplified here, under the watchful eyes of the academy.
"…my father said my plasma generation is already at a C-rank potency!" a boy with glowing hands boasted to a captivated circle.
"…the Valkyrie bloodline has produced a top-tier Hero for three generations," a girl was saying, her skin periodically shifting to a diamond-like sheen. "I intend to make it four."
Nearby, Kyle puffed out his chest slightly, leaning over to Ark and Elster. "Hear that? Olsen family has that beat. Four generations of front-line heroes. My great-grandpa was on the team that sealed the Buenos Aires Breach." He said it not with arrogance, but with a genuine, weighty pride that came from a deep-seated legacy. It was a reminder to Ark that for his friends, this wasn't just a dream; it was a family destiny.
Nearby, a group of more academically inclined candidates were deep in discussion. "…and the prevailing theory is that High-Man didn't just close the First Gate, he restructured the local reality to make it resistant to future incursions," one said, adjusting his thick glasses.
"Fascinating," another replied. "To think, one being, the first to Awaken, could single-handedly end the Great Despair and found the Age of Heroes. What I wouldn't give to have seen his power."
Ark listened, his own mind drifting. The High Human. High-Man. The myth, the legend, the cornerstone of their modern world. The being who had emerged when the first Gate had torn open the sky over Old Tokyo a century ago, who had faced the unspeakable horror that emerged and had not only destroyed it but had sealed the rift. He had founded the global Hero organization, established the framework for training, and then, at the peak of his influence, had vanished without a trace. His disappearance was the greatest mystery in human history.
What would it have been like, Ark wondered, to possess that kind of power? To be the first light in a new, terrifying darkness? His own newfound power was the polar opposite—a tool of shadows, not a beacon of light. Was this the "truth" his grandfather wanted him to see? That the history they were taught was a simplified fairytale?
His musings were cut short as the holographic sky on the domed ceiling flickered and dissolved, replaced by the serene, digitally-constructed face of the academy's AI.
"Candidates, please direct your attention to the central dais. The practical examination will now commence. Your examiner is Proctor Sharon Rose."
A woman stepped forward on the dais. She was tall and lean, dressed in a form-fitting, dark grey combat suit devoid of any insignia. Her hair was a practical, short-cropped silver, and her face, while lined with the experience of years, was sharp and fiercely intelligent. Her eyes, a piercing gunmetal grey, swept over the assembled crowd, and the sheer weight of her gaze silenced the last of the murmurs. This was not a teacher. This was a soldier.
"Welcome," her voice rang out, clear and cutting, without the need for amplification. It was a voice used to command, to be obeyed instantly. "I am Proctor Sharon Rose. What you are about to undergo is not a game. It is not a showcase. It is an evaluation of your viability as a asset in humanity's perpetual war. Your power, your control, your mentality, and your will to survive will be tested. Those who are found lacking will be removed. Permanently."
She began to pace slowly along the edge of the dais, her hands clasped behind her back. "The process is simple. You will be called forward by your assigned number, displayed on your wrist-comm. You will step onto the biometric scanner at the base of the dais. It will analyze your power core's signature, density, and unique resonance. This provides us with your baseline. Following that, you will proceed to one of the designated testing zones where your practical application will be assessed."
She stopped and pinned them all with a final, uncompromising stare. "There is no room for hesitation. There is no reward for flash without function. Your goal is not to impress the audience." She gestured to the tiers of seats. "Your goal is to prove to me that you will not be a liability on a battlefield. Begin."
A large holographic display lit up above the dais, showing the first candidate number. The examination had begun.
One by one, candidates were called forward. The scanner was a wide, circular platform that glowed with a soft white light. As each candidate stepped onto it, intricate patterns of light would sweep over their bodies, and data would stream across the holographic display.
"Candidate 047. Power Core: Kinetics. Designation: Speedster. Potency Rating: D+. Proceed to Zone 4."
A blur of motion, and the boy was gone from the scanner, appearing already at the entrance to one of the side zones, a cocky smirk on his face.
"Candidate 112. Power Core: Biological. Designation: Elasticity. Potency Rating: D. Proceed to Zone 2."
The boy's arm stretched out, grabbing a railing twenty feet away and pulling himself effortlessly towards the zone.
The parade of power was mesmerizing. A girl with cryokinesis made the air around the scanner glitter with frost. A boy with telepathy made several proctors in the stands suddenly clutch their heads in surprise before he was swiftly waved on, a warning look from Rose silencing any complaint. There were pyrokinesis like Kyle, telekinetics like Elster, a boy who could generate hard-light constructs, a girl who could phase through the scanner itself.
Kyle was called. He stepped onto the platform, and a wave of thermal energy radiated from him.
"Candidate 089. Power Core: Energy. Designation: Pyrokinesis. Potency Rating: C-. Proceed to Zone 3."
He shot a grin and a thumbs-up back at Ark and Elster before jogging off,a spring in his step. A C- rating was respectable for an entrance exam.
Elster was next. She stepped onto the scanner with a serene grace. The light patterns swept over her, and a subtle, psychic pressure filled the immediate area.
"Candidate 033. Power Core: Psionic. Designation: Telekinetic/Telepath. Potency Rating: C. Proceed to Zone 5."
A murmur went through the crowd.A C rating was excellent. She gave Ark a small, confident nod before following the directions.
Ark watched them go, his friends moving towards their destinies, leaving him alone in the crowd. The numbers counted down. He saw Brody swagger onto the platform. The scanner lights glowed a dull, metallic grey around him.
"Candidate 101. Power Core: Material. Designation: Metal Absorption. Potency Rating: C-. Proceed to Zone 1."
Brody puffed out his chest,shooting a triumphant glare in Ark's general direction before striding away.
Finally, the number on Ark's wrist-comm glowed. He was the last one.
A hush fell over the gymnasium. Every other candidate had been processed. All eyes, from the anxious candidates waiting for their own tests to the senior students and faculty in the stands, were on him. He was the anomaly. The boy who had signed the death waiver.
He walked forward, his footsteps echoing in the sudden silence. He could feel the weight of a thousand stares, a mix of curiosity, pity, and outright derision. His heart was a drum in his chest, but his mind was preternaturally clear. The System's interface remained steady, a rock in the storm of his emotions.
He stepped onto the biometric scanner.
The familiar patterns of light swept over him. He felt a faint tingling sensation as the advanced sensors delved deep, seeking the energy signature of a power core, the unique cellular mutation that marked the Awakened.
The light continued to sweep. And sweep.
The holographic display remained blank.No data stream. No power designation.
The soft white glow of the scanner began to pulse a soft,warning yellow.
A few snickers broke the silence from the crowd of candidates.
Proctor Rose frowned, consulting a data-slate in her hand. "Greystone, Ark. Re-calibrating scan." She input a command.
The scanner glowed brighter, the tingling sensation intensifying. The lights swept over him again, more slowly this time, probing deeper. The holographic display flickered, then resolved into a single, stark line of text.
"Candidate 256. Power Core: Null. Potency Rating: N/A. Anomaly Detected."
The word "NULL" hung in the air, luminous and humiliating. The snickers turned into open laughter. "I told you!" someone whispered loudly. "A Null! He actually tried!"
Ark stood his ground, his face a mask of forced calm. The System, in response to the deep scan, had thrown up a firewall of its own, a ghost in the machine that registered only as an "anomaly," protecting its true nature.
Proctor Rose looked from the display to Ark, her gunmetal eyes narrowed. "The scan is conclusive, Candidate Greystone. You possess no power core. You are disqualified from the practical examination. You may report to the administrative wing for Science Department placement processing."
This was it. The moment of truth. The end of the road, or the beginning.
"I'm here to take the practical exam, Proctor," Ark said, his voice cutting through the lingering laughter, clearer and firmer than he felt.
The laughter died. Rose's eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly. "The exam is for the Awakened. It is lethal for an unpowered individual. Your waiver acknowledges the risk, but my duty is to prevent unnecessary death. The answer is no."
"I understand the risks," Ark insisted, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He could feel the new strength in them, a secret the scanner could not see. "I passed the written exam. I have the right to attempt the practical."
"You have a death wish," Rose countered, her voice flat. "A right to attempt is not a right to succeed. You will be a drain on resources, a distraction for the proctors who would be forced to extract your pulverized body from the testing zone. This is not a debate."
"But it is!" The words burst from him, fueled by a lifetime of frustration and the desperate hope of the last night. "You're evaluating viability, right? Not just power. You test mentality and will. What does it say about my will that I'm standing here, knowing I have no power, demanding to be tested anyway? What does it say about my mentality that I'd rather risk death than accept being told I'm not good enough?"
He took a step forward, off the scanner, his gaze locked with hers. The entire gymnasium was frozen, watching the confrontation. "You said there's no room for hesitation. I'm not hesitating. You said the goal is to prove I won't be a liability. How can you know if I'm a liability if you don't let me try?"
Rose stared at him, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched, thick and heavy. She was analyzing him, not with a machine, but with the seasoned eye of a warrior who had seen countless lives flicker and die on the battlefield. She saw the defiance in his eyes, a fire that had nothing to do with a power core. She saw the absolute lack of the fear that should be there in an unpowered boy facing down a Proctor of Hero High. She saw, for the first time in many years, a will that was not forged in the crucible of easy power, but in the cold, hard anvil of powerlessness.
It was a fool's errand. He would likely be broken within the first minute. But… that will. It was a rare commodity.
The ghost of a memory, of another stubborn, powerless individual she had known long ago, flickered in her mind.
Her lips tightened. She let out a short, sharp breath that was almost a sigh of exasperation.
"Fine." The word was a whip-crack in the silence. "You want to prove your will so badly, Greystone? I won't stop you. But know this—the moment you step into that testing zone, you are on your own. No special treatment. No rescue unless I deem it strategically viable, which for a single, unpowered candidate, it will not be. You will live or die by your own choices."
She input a command into her data-slate with a violent stab of her finger.
"Candidate 256. Power Core: Null. Anomaly Status: Approved for Testing. Proceed to Zone 7."
The gymnasium erupted into a chorus of disbelieving chatter. Zone 7. Ark didn't know what that meant, but from the shocked looks on some of the senior students' faces, it wasn't good.
He didn't care. He had won. He had passed the first, true test.
"Thank you, Proctor," he said, with a sincerity that seemed to surprise her.
He turned his back on the dais and the stunned crowd, and began the long walk towards the ominously dark entrance of Testing Zone 7. The laughter was gone, replaced by a ringing in his ears that was either terror or triumph.
The Primary Quest in his vision updated.
[Quest: The Crucible of Heroes - Updated!]
Objective: Survive the Practical Examination in Testing Zone 7.
Failure:Death.
As the heavy doors of Zone 7 slid open with a hydraulic hiss, revealing only darkness within, Ark Greystone took one last look at the world of light and power behind him. Then, he stepped forward, and the shadows swallowed him whole.