*
The few minutes of attempted fighting with Maricel was painful, embarrassing, and just plain confusing. After it was over and they awkwardly thanked one another for the educational experience, they both parted ways to go to their next assessments. Maricel went to some kind of Ground Shaper’s-only dirt flinging thing. Alden headed toward the outdoor track. Hitting people feels so wrong. Getting hit felt way less wrong. So maybe it was just social conditioning, and he would get over it. But as he followed a few other B-ranks out to the massive track, he couldn’t help fixating on all the novel, and mostly negative, physical sensations he’d just experienced. He’d now been punched in the ribs, kicked in the knee, and pinned to the floor by someone with slightly superior strength. He also knew what it felt like to punch another person in the gut as hard as he could and bite the shit out of her fingers. Maricel started it with the biting. That was her own fault. “Hey, what was that about?” Alden turned to see a lanky, dark-skinned guy with very short hair striding up behind him, stretching out his arms. “Are you talking to me?” “I am. Were you and your S friend just trying to look cool in front of the faculty by giving each other those little love taps?” “We were trying to get used to the way the suits feel before the combat assessment. So that we wouldn’t be as surprised during our fights later today.” The guy sighed. “So, you’re not stupid. That’s a shame. I prefer stupid competition.” “Thanks…?” “Is this your first time?” “Yeah.” “It’s my second. I was here four months ago,” he said. “I skipped the last one to prep for this one. I’m Max.” “Alden.” “What’s your class?” Max asked. “I’m an Adjuster.” “Rabbit.” “Well…that’s scary.” They’d just reached the back of the group that was waiting at the track’s edge. Alden turned to the taller boy. The words felt like they should have been said in a sarcastic tone, but they hadn’t been. “Are you joking around, or—?” Max’s brows rose. “No. It’s actually bad for the rest of us B-rank hopefuls.” “How do you figure?” Max looked over the group. “Hey!” he shouted. “Anybody here a Rabbit?” Everyone turned to look back at him. > one boy asked. “I don’t think they let Rabbits in the program,” a girl added. “Or Healers.” “Yeah, why would they?” another said. “There are some Wrights here today, though.” “See?” said Max, when everyone resumed their original convos. “You’re probably the only one.” “I’m the only one from intake anyway,” Alden admitted. “Right. You’re obviously here for a reason. They’d have bounced you before the second interview if you were average. And before this one if you were above average, I bet. So you must be way above average in some way, right?” Alden shrugged and tried for a casual tone. “It’s the same for everyone, probably.” Max was doing leg stretches now. “No it’s not,” he said. He smiled at Alden. “Rabbit’s an awful class for traditional superhero work. Despite the name, this is a program that prioritizes traditional superhero work. You’re not Anesidoran, and you’re living in intake; so you don’t have important family on the island greasing the admissions machine for you. But they made an exception for you. Therefore, you’re exceptional. An exceptional Rabbit.” Alden couldn’t decide if the other boy wanted an answer or if he was just making conversation. “You mean there really is a Rabbit here?” A nearby girl who’d been talking about tae-kwon-do with a friend turned to looked at Alden. “You’re a Rabbit?” > someone else asked. “That’s right.” > A lot of people were staring now. I don’t want to explain myself. I don’t want attention. I just want to focus on the task at hand. “Multiple, long-considered personal reasons,” he said finally. He couldn’t believe he’d just quoted Stu-art’h. It worked pretty well though. A few people laughed like it was funny, but most of them accepted it and went back to stressing over their own problems. “Yeah,” Max said, giving him a look. “Pretty sure you’re my main competition this time.” “Thanks I guess?” The other boy shrugged. A few minutes later, a pair of staff members arrived. They were each carrying large tablets. “All right,” a gray-haired man said. “This is Runner Group B2. If you’re not a part of this group, you’re lost. Better get yourself un-lost before you miss whatever you’re supposed to be doing.” He paused. When nobody left, he continued. “So, I say this every time and nobody listens, but I’ll try anyway. You’re not racing today. We’re testing you as individuals. If you’re running using mostly what your parents gave you, you’ll be done quickly and you can head off to rest before your next event. If you’re using powers, we might ask you to keep going. If you’re using a power we haven’t got a lot of data on, prepare to sweat. Don’t come asking us for second chances or questioning why we made you do something different from everyone else.” He looked around at them all. “Everyone’s got their shoes tied, right? The track isn’t the gym. The suits you’re all wearing will give us some readings, but they’re not going to protect you out here. Don’t do something stupid with a spell if you don’t know how to use it. Boy lost a tooth last time… All right. First group’s up.” The words [Lane 3] appeared in front of Alden’s eyes. And, a moment after that, Lane 3 itself appeared. The track was made of what looked like asphalt, but there was obviously more to it than met the eye. It had been plain, but now glowing yellow lines appeared on the surface. Alden preserved his compact umbrella, and he let his trait activate at the same time. He was relieved when it worked. Asphalt roads were usually ground enough to satisfy the magical requirement, but a glowing one was new. He took his spot. “Run your first lap however you like. After that, we’ll be directing you individually through your interfaces,” the guy with the tablet called. “Don’t sprint flat-out when we say jog. Don’t jog when we say sprint. Kid with the umbrella, what the…oh, never mind. There’s a note. You can have the umbrella.”
[Trait Assisted Run in 3…] [2…] [1…]
I’m starting to worry, Alden thought half an hour later, as he jogged around Lane 3 yet again. Are they ever going to let me stop? The morning was cool, but he was sweating like crazy. The original set of B-rank runners he’d been mentally racing against, even though he’d been told not to, were all gone. I think I beat them all. Now, every two minutes or so, he got a new set of instructions to follow through his interface. Faster, faster, slower, low obstacle leap, double footed jumps, all of those things again but backwards. Nobody else had to run backwards. The Adjuster called Max was two lanes over now. Alden couldn’t spare a lot of attention, but it seemed like he had some kind of zonal movement spells. He’d run the whole track at a slow jog while casting, and now that he was on his second lap, weird stuff was happening over in his lane. Alden was pretty sure the guy had just leaped and floated over one of the wall-like hurdles that the track itself produced at the command of the instructors. That’s actually really cool. He finally got an instruction to break at the end of his next lap, and he headed over to grab a water bottle. “Take a breather for ten minutes, but don’t get stiff,” the female instructor said, coming over to check on him. “We’re going to have you go back out soon.” Alden wanted to ask why, but since they’d been specifically told not to complain about getting different instructions from others, he didn’t want them to think he was whining. “Okay.” “Sorry you’re getting so much more exercise than everyone else,” she said, grabbing a water bottle from one of the coolers for herself. “Our data on that trait is scanty, and the way you move is a pretty important factor in determining how you’ll eventually do hero work.” “I don’t mind.” He took advantage of the break to watch the other runners. The Brutes were easy to understand, and of course, most of them were Brutes. The Shapers, Adjusters, and Meisters were mostly not using powers at all, apart from whatever foundational enhancements they had. They just completed a few laps and headed off. Alden assumed that was only because the track wasn’t designed to take a lot of magical damage; one or two of them must have had spells and skills that would have allowed them to blow through hurdles. Apart from super speed, the visible magic was mostly coming from a few people who had something odd going on with their movement. Beside Max, there was a Sky Shaper who was running faster by altering the air around her. And there was a Meister of Staves who was adjusting the flexibility of her weapon to clear some short hurdles. Alden thought she might be trying to show off a short-pole version of pole vaulting? He didn’t think it was going the way she wanted, though. It was looking way less useful than just regular jumping. I wonder what the A and S groups look like? Really, there was plenty to be impressed with in the B group. It was a shame that almost everyone here would end up going home with nothing at the end of the day. Not just at the end of the day either. There are more B’s here than can enter the program in the next few years. Are Apex schools just too damn elitist, or is the rank gap really that insurmountable? As promised, he was soon called back to do more laps. Including a zig-zag one and one involving side-steps. He was starting to wonder if they actually needed all this data on him, specifically, or if he was being used to make a complete record for their future information on Azure Rabbit. When he was finally done, he headed toward the cooler and threw a fistful of ice cubes down the neck of his unitard. “Feeling warm?” asked Max. The Adjuster was sitting on the grass nearby beside an empty water bottle. “It was a lot,” Alden said. Some of the movements they’d asked for had been so bizarre. He had muscles burning from the waist down. “Are you just sitting here observing people?” “More like observing person,” he responded. “Now that person is done. You’re in the ten o’clock combat group, right? Or did you get slotted in for private assessment?” “I’m in the combat group.” “I’ll walk back with you.” Alden didn’t see any reason to object, but he didn’t understand the other B-rank boy’s motives either. He’d said he considered Alden competition, but he didn’t sound pissed off about it. Is this a keep your enemies close thing? he wondered as they entered through the back of the MagicPhys building. Max was just chatting about everyday stuff now, not asking questions about powers or abilities, so it didn’t seem like a big deal. He had an Anesidoran mom and a South African dad who were amicably divorced. He’d grown up in between the two worlds, spending school breaks and holidays here on the island. “That must give you a really different perspective,” Alden said. “Probably.” They entered the gymnasium, and the Floor On notification appeared at once. “I think moving between places just shows you that everywhere has its ups and downs. You’re American, aren’t you? Have you ever traveled to other countries?” Alden opened his mouth, and then he realized he didn’t know the answer. “I’ve never visited another country on Earth. Do alien worlds count?” Max gave him a curious look. “I guess you really are a Rabbit if you’ve already got a summoning under your belt. Yeah, sure it counts.” “Then I’ve done some traveling.” There was a boom of sound as Instructor Waker, in his Big Snake mode, stomped the floor for attention. “All right, next combat group!” he said in a cheerful voice. “Let’s go over some of the rules.” ******** The rules for the next hour and a half of Alden’s life were simple.
He would receive combat or rescue assignments. He should complete them to the best of his ability, using whatever resources he had at his disposal.
No taking off the gym suit or the metal bands.
No “killing” the other participants.
He could refuse assignments if he believed “they will not show your abilities in the best light.”
He could leave whenever he liked after completing at least one assignment.
******
He went back to the bleachers and made sure to sit as far away from his defeated opponent as he could. That meant he ended up surrounded by a bunch of S’s and A’s he didn’t know. “Man, you’re sweaty,” said a girl. “From just that little fight?” “I was running track for ages right before I got in here,” said Alden. “I haven’t had a chance to cool off.” “Speedster?” “Rabbit.” The girl smiled at him. “No, really,” said Alden. “I’m a Rabbit.” “Um…right.” No assignments popped up for him after the next set of duels ended either. So he guessed he was getting a break. He used it to observe what was going on with everyone else. He spotted Max heading for a dueling block. He was chatting amicably with another B-rank—a big guy whose jaw was clenched with stress. And on the left-hand side of the gym, people were playing a hero/villain game that involved rescuing victims. It seemed like they’d just gotten started, so they must have had an instruction period. I know what my role will probably be there. There were some people carrying the victims away while others protected them from enemy fire. That looks kind of fun compared to what I just did. “Some people are leaving already,” the girl who’d spoken to him earlier said to her friend. “Foreigners probably,” her friend replied. “I don’t recognize any of them.” Alden looked toward the people they were talking about. It was about ten of them, and…the girls weren’t wrong. He recognized most of them from the intake bus. “I hear it happens every time. They aren’t expecting getting hit with powers to be so intense, and they get freaked out. And they take the bait.” “They don’t let anyone into the program if they leave early, right?” Alden said. “That’s what I thought when they explained that you could.” The S girls glanced down at him. Maybe because he was a B, they didn’t seem inclined to lie. “Unless something really terrible happens in your fight, they don’t. It’s supposed to be obvious that that’s the wrong answer—” “It is obvious,” her friend said. “This kind of stuff is what makes the hero track the hero track. Using the MagiPhys gym to test and improve your powers against other Avowed talents is one of the main reasons to come to this school. If you don’t want to be here for an hour and a half, you’re not going to want to be a Celena North student for the next few years.” “But people tap out anyway. It’s not only clueless newcomers. It’s a lot of locals without hero-trained parents, too. And even some with.” She nodded toward a boy who’d just sat down by himself not too far away and lowered her voice. “Haoyu is a legacy. He’s going to be a Dura Brute like his mom and dad. He’s really well trained. I wouldn’t be surprised if he leaves after that duel though and tries again next time.” Dura Brute wasn’t an official System subclass, but Alden knew what she meant. Usually it was Strength or Stamina Brutes who used the System’s willingness to micro-tweak to hybridize the two, sacrificing some pure striking power for extra endurance and toughness. Depending on which subclass they’d started out with, the skill options that pulled it all together would be a little different. “They shouldn’t have let the Wright bring that weapon,” the other girl said angrily. “He just stood there, and Haoyu didn’t even get a chance to fight back.” “What was it?” “Some kind of pain inducement tool. The Wright made it himself and it draws on some skill he’s got to function, he said. So I guess technically it’s fair. But to keep a Brute down with it, he just pointed it and kept it active. Maybe the gym suits overshot the pain estimate because it was a unique thing, but…it looked awful. BigSnake canceled their fight himself.” “Speaking of duels, they’re starting again,” her friend said. Alden turned his attention toward the floor. He wanted to know how his own fight compared to the average, but it was kind of hard to tell. There wasn’t really an average. Everyone was fighting same-rank opponents right now, so the S’s obviously looked flashy compared to the A’s, who looked pretty flashy themselves compared to the B’s. But there was a lot of variety within each group. Some duels were downright boring, with people timidly trading spells like they were playing a game. And others were insane. There were two Brutes throwing each other at the barriers with so much force and such a total lack of concern for head and spinal injuries, that Alden wondered if they cared at all about the no-killing rule. “I hate the idea of fighting Adjusters,” a boy sitting a couple of seats back muttered. “Are they going to burn you? Are they going to freeze you? Are they going to levitate your ass and laugh while you flail around up there? Do they have fast spells? Slow spells? A mix?” “It is pretty hard if you don’t know what path they’ve chosen,” someone else agreed. The first boy pointed. “Like that—what in Apex is that guy’s spell set?” He was pointing at Max. Max’s opponent—a B-rank Meister with a spear—was running at him. Without making any forward progress. “He looks like he’s on a treadmill,” a girl said in fascinated voice. “Why doesn’t the other guy just throw his spear?” About ten seconds later, that was what happened. The spear flew. Max stood stock still and took it dead center in the chest. His body crashed backward into the barrier. The spear clattered to the floor, and Max collapsed with his arms wrapped around his chest. “Oh shit!” one of the S’s said excitedly. “That Adjuster absolutely baited him into that somehow. The Meister should have seen that coming. He should have gone for a leg!” “He’s an idiot if he let himself be baited that badly. There was no way for a spear to be nonlethal if you aimed there…and yes. They’re done.” The Meister had gone white as ghost. One of the faculty observers was headed over with a grim expression on her face. Wincing, Max climbed to his feet, still rubbing his chest and gasping. And smiling. I think he’s a little dangerous, Alden decided. I need to be careful around him. The duels ended. Alden got a notification that he was going up again shortly. It was against a Meister of Bow, and they were rank mixing now. His opponent would be an A. He stood up and started to walk away. “Wait! Don’t you need your umbrella and your spell ball?” Alden smiled. I thought it would be her. She seemed to be the nicest member of the locals group, so he’d left the umbrella and the temper sphere right beside her feet where she couldn’t help but notice them. He turned back around and targeted her with a thought. “What?” he asked. “Your supplies!” she said. “Don’t you need them to fight?” “I do. I should take them, shouldn’t I?” She nodded. That nod should be enough. Alden stepped over and picked them up. He’d left the glass orb sitting where it would be touching the umbrella, so they came together. “Whoa. It’s a glue umbrella? How does that work?” “It’s a skill that preserves objects,” he said. “Thank you. I owe you one.” “What for?” “I’ll tell you later.” He didn’t even really need the temper sphere preserved right now, but he’d wanted to prove to the observing faculty that he could sneakily get things entrusted to him. It seemed like something they might care about. He headed toward his assigned dueling area and shook hands with a boy carrying a short, metal bow. A-rank archer sounds like a bad match-up, he thought. Wasn’t an arrow going to move faster than he could react to it? And though they had been given a larger dueling block to work with than the last one, it wasn’t large enough that someone with that subclass was likely to miss him. I guess he’ll have to be extra careful not to get lethals. I could focus on shielding my legs instead of my torso? Taking an arrow to the torso sounded like it would feel really bad. But since another guy had just chest-bumped a spear and walked it off smiling, it was probably doable, right? The Meister cheerfully called, “This is my first duel! The last person surrendered when they saw my class.” “Seriously?” The boy nodded. “They didn’t want to find out what it feels like to get shot.” Understandable. I don’t particularly want to find out what that feels like either, even if it’s only going to last a few seconds. “Getting shot doesn’t sound as bad as getting burned,” he said, thinking of one of the high rank Adjuster who was fireballing people into submission. “I agree,” said the Meister, nocking an arrow. “I also think the large bludgeoning weapons are just the worst. Can you imagine the gym suits mimicking crushed bones?” “Um…” Alden felt a pinprick against his authority and brought his umbrella up. He backed as far away from his opponent as the dueling block would allow. “Hold still,” said the guy, smiling at him. “I’m going to shoot you now.” ********** The next two minutes of Alden’s life were aerobic and unpleasant. Ow, he thought, fleeing with his umbrella covering his back as the archer dashed around behind him collecting the six arrows he’d just rapidly and delightedly shot Alden’s legs and feet with. Fucking ow. And the asshole doesn’t miss. Pros — the arrows bounced off, and though the pain wasn’t fun, Alden had a high pain threshold. He could keep running around. Cons — the arrows bounced off, which meant Jolly Robin Hood could keep picking them up and shooting them again. Alden had tried to stop this from happening by grabbing one of the arrows off the floor, only to get his palm “sliced” open as the other boy recalled it magically. The fact that he didn’t do it unless Alden picked them up meant it must be a really puny skill he was worried about fatiguing before future fights, but it was a good deterrent. Alden felt a pinch against his authority and spun, umbrella held out. He got it in front of the first arrow, but even as it struck, there was a second pinch, and then a third. Maybe he’d one day be able to tell what body parts another Avowed was targeting, but it wasn’t happening today. He waved the umbrella around wildly, hoping for the best, and miraculously didn’t get hit. “You’re amazing!” the archer called. “This is such good practice!” A pinch. Most of them had been coming in low. Alden guessed and tried to reposition his shield. And took an arrow in the shoulder. It hurt enough that his brain lied to him and told him he couldn’t move the arm for a split second. Which proved fatal. The next arrow had a lot more power behind it than the others had. It hit him in the lower stomach and threw him back against the barrier. He sat there, clutching at his stomach. He couldn’t move. He knew in his head that he could. But his body wasn’t willing to do it quickly for him. I guess it’s nonlethal, since I could conceivably be saved from being gut shot? The archer bounded toward him with another arrow knocked. “I can shoot you with that one again at close range, and you’d have to stay there. But…I don’t think you want me to do that?” Alden shook his head, waiting for the pain to subside. “Great! So you’re captured. Toss aside your shield. And after that, if you move, I’ll shoot you some more.” “Noted,” said Alden, setting aside the umbrella. “Ranged weapons are the best,” the guy told him conversationally. “You should get some long distance spells when you level up.” Clearly this boy had never seen the B-rank Rabbit spell impression options. But Alden thought of his auriad. “Working on it.” When the timer ran out, he targeted the guy. “Could you hand me my umbrella, and the glass ball?” “Sure.” People are in a good mood when they’ve just won, he noted, taking his things. I wonder if there was something I could have done with the fishing line for this fight after all? If he’d stretched it out long enough it would have given him some range to…smack the archer with? It would have been distracting for him. I don’t think it would have won me the fight, but it might have at least given me ideas for future ones. I should make an effort to try more stuff in the next battle. On cue, his next assignment popped up: [Rescue Victims] [Special Notes: Focus on Skill Use]
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