The three of them joined a line into the stadium. A scarred woman with tired eyes moved down the queue, handing out tickets. When she reached them, she muttered, "You're 240. When they call you, choose: meta or dev. Hand on the orb. It ranks you. That decides your squad." She moved on without another word.
The mystery of the cheering was revealed to them as they finally entered. There was a large inner field which was divided in half. The right half of the field was filled with flashes of lightning, torrents of earth and fire, pillars of ice, and all sorts of other phenomenon.
Some men and women had a shimmering sheen over their skin, as they proceeded to smash their fists toward a steel bar. A few tore through the bar like tofu, while others failed and cried out in pain.
Every success was accompanied with cheering from the stands as people observed the testing. The left field was noticeably more low-key with the men and women attempting to lift different sized weights above their head. Some were dashing as fast as they could down a track and others were attempting the high jump.
Zerek didn't miss the gun range and knew that he would certainly excel in that area. Thinking of all the missions he went on as long-range support, he couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence. Marksmanship was his bread and butter.
"Ohh, so many girls in the audience. Time to show them what a real man looks like." said Brakk as he spontaneously started flexing his biceps.
Zerek and Drake rolled their eyes. When people started giving them weird looks, the two of them threw Brakk under the bus, saying, "We aren't with him."
By the time Zerek returned to his seat, he learned that Brakk and Drake had already finished their assessments. The results were:
Brakk: Grade D+, Strength: High, Speed: Average, Defense: High. Overall: Suited to be a melee combatant.
Drake: Grade C–, Strength: Mid, Speed: Good, Defence: Mid. Overalls: A short range support division combatant due to his gravity manipulation ability.
Zerek: non-qualified grade, no score strength, Overall: long range support division.
Brakk was cracking up at the results. "Zerek, you are a proper no show."
Zerek shook his head while smiling at Brakk's antics.
Drake said, "Brakk, you are very close to reaching Grade C just based on your strength results alone. I'm sure if you tested the orb under your transformed state, you would have gotten the higher tier."
Brakk was practically over the moon when he heard the compliment. "I can't be showing up my two new friends. I'm actually a pretty humble guy if you get to know me. No, for real I mean it!"
Even before he finished his sentence, Drake and Zerek knew nothing good would be coming out of his mouth already. As soon as they heard "humble" they simultaneously turned away and ignored him.
Zerek asked Drake, "What about you? You seem quite far from reaching Grade B."
Drake wasn't worried at all, "My power just awakened not more 6 years ago and I've been focusing more on growing and understanding my ability rather than training to better my strengths or physiques so even if my strength does not reach the requirements on a strength basis, my ability will carry me as long as it strengthens. I heard even some Grade A+ only have strength levels that are equivalent to Grade C+ but their abilities are so monstrous that it completely bridges the gap. Currently, I can only affect 1-2 targets around me in the range of 20 feet. I can make those targets feel up to 4x the gravity. A couple years back when I awakened my power, I was only able to affect 1 target for 2x the gravity within 10 feet of me. Thus, I feel it is only a matter of time before I break through to Grade B. I actually didn't utilize my gravity power during the assessment because I don't want that bastard Alders to find out how close I really am to breaking through. I don't want him to make another excuse for why I shouldn't be transferred. No worries."
Zerek nodded his head in relief and took the opportunity to observe his surroundings. He noticed that things were wrapping up.
They must have been close to the last group to arrive. A magnified voice said, "All assessments have been completed and parties have been assembled. Please look for your debriefing room with your other party members on the projection." As the voice disappeared a large projection hologram appeared in the air above the fields.
"Dang, neither of you are in my group. Guess we are all separated actually. Total buzzkill, man." Brakk was actually quite depressed.
Drake came over and patted Brakk on the shoulder. Brakk immediately brightened up before he heard Drake say, "Don't try going one on one with a Juggernaut. You'll get wrecked, half-jug." and Brakk immediately scowled bitterly. He started to point at Zerek and shouted at Drake, "Aren't you going to give no-show any advice??"
"He doesn't need any." replied Drake as he was walking away toward his debriefing room, while waving his hand lazily in the air while facing away from them.
Brakk snorted in displeasure and play punched Zerek while saying, "I'll see ya when I see ya." He then proceeded to light jog towards his room.
Zerek watched the two of them disappear and looked forward to drinking together with them when the mission was completed.
When Zerek arrived at the debriefing room, he was once again among the last few to trickle in and quietly took a seat at the back. A man stood at the podium, preparing to begin, when a curt voice sliced through the air.
"No need. I'll brief them."
All heads turned.
A figure entered the room—not walking, but gliding with the cold precision of a ghost. He wore a black mask with no markings, blocking his expression. A long coat covered him from neck to boot, fastened tight. His gloves were leather. Silver threads ran along the seams of his coat—barely visible, but deliberate. His hair, short and an ordinary dark brown, was combed neatly—just enough to prove he wasn't unkempt.
There was no sound of his footsteps. No wasted movement. No hint of skin.
The man at the podium bowed slightly. "Of course, Commander Varyn."
He stepped aside and exited without another word. As soon as the name was spoken, the atmosphere shifted. Whispers rippled forward: "Varyn." The name carried weight—dry as his humour, sharp as his battle instincts, and cold.
Everyone rose from their seats in unspoken respect.
"Sit," Varyn said, voice low and monotone.
They obeyed.
"Eyes front. Mouths shut. No questions until I say. Mission is Naren City—west of Bastion. Civilian threat level: medium. Meta threat: pending. You'll get unit assignments after this."
He scanned the room briefly. His gaze lingered on Zerek—just for a second. No nod, no reaction. Just... recognition.
He continued.
"I'm not here to inspire. I'm here to inform. You die if you don't listen and even if you listen you will still die if you're not courageous."
The room fell into still silence. Varyn's presence was as chilling as a winter wind through a graveyard.
"Let's begin."