Three Weeks Later
It had been three weeks since school started. In that short time, we'd gone over every kind of "hero scenario" imaginable — what to do, what not to do, and a bunch of overly moral lessons that were starting to melt my brain.
I sighed, cheek pressed against the desk. So this is hero school… huh? I was bored out of my mind, praying for something, anything, to happen.
Then came the sound of sharp clapping hands.
"Today will be your final assessment," Mr. Bront announced, his voice steady and commanding. "Change into your training clothes and meet me at the parking lot."
A spark of curiosity jolted through the room. Finally, something interesting.
We made our way into the locker rooms. I grabbed the black suit hanging in my locker and groaned. "These are so ugly," I muttered under my breath.
"Apparently, we can customize them later with points," Kagetsu called from across the room.
"Great," I mumbled, slipping it on.
After changing, everyone gathered by the parking lot, where a massive gray bus idled with its doors open. Mr. Bront stood beside it, motioning for us to get in. I followed Kagetsu to the very back seat.
"The past two weeks have been so boring," I complained.
"Homework every day has to be a crime," Kagetsu said, leaning back.
"I don't get why we—"
My words trailed off as my eyelids grew heavy. My heartbeat slowed. The world began to blur.
The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was Mr. Bront — wearing a gas mask.
When I woke, I was lying on a cold floor inside a dim, empty room. Only a single flickering light hung above me, casting long shadows across the walls.
Before I could speak, a deep, mechanical voice echoed around me.
"You will have thirty seconds to answer the following question."
screens began turning on from the darkness.
"To your left," the voice said, "is a young boy who needs immediate saving."
I turned. A boy lay there, bleeding heavily, his whimpers cutting straight through me. It felt… too real. The blood. The smell. The trembling in his small hands.
"And to your right is the criminal who caused this."
I turned again. A masked man sprinted away into the distance.
"You may only choose one. Either save the boy or stop the criminal. Your decision will be engraved in your mind for the rest of your days."
A red digital timer appeared on the wall: 30 seconds.
"You now have thirty seconds to give your answer—and explain your reasoning."
Somewhere else…
In a large room sat a long oval conference table. On it were cups of tea, a glowing projector, and the eyes of every major faculty member in the academy.
Mr. Bront.
Vice Principal Yumi.
Vice Principal Qiu.
Principal Gregores.
And several others.
They watched silently as each student's trial chamber displayed on the screen.
Yumi frowned, scratching her head. "How does this determine if they're ready for missions?"
Principal Gregores leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "It's simple. In this world, hesitation kills. Heroes must act before the clock does. No time to second-guess."
A blonde woman smirked. "Who do you think will fail first?"
The man beside her with black hair adjusted his glasses. "If I had to choose, it'd be that last-ranked kid… Hitoshi Kagetsu, I think?"
Qiu smiled faintly, eyes glinting. "A seed looks worthless to those who cannot imagine the tree it may become. Do not be so quick to judge what has yet to bloom."
Back in Kagetsu's chamber…
Kagetsu sat cross-legged, calm, eyes half-lidded as he studied both options..
Then, with a quiet laugh, he said, "I'd save the kid."
"Please inform us of your reasoning," the voice demanded.
He stood. "Being a hero means protecting those who can't protect themselves. The criminal can be caught later. But if that boy dies now—there's no second chance."
Silence filled the chamber.
"Congratulations," the voice said at last. "You have passed this trial. You are now qualified to apply for missions."
Back in the observation room, Principal Gregores chuckled. "Looks like you were wrong, Nobu. He passed."
The man with black hair sighed, clapping lightly. "He's still last-ranked."
My chamber…
"What could be the right answer?" I muttered, gripping my chin.
Think. Think. Think.
The timer read 20 seconds.
"The criminal," I decided aloud. "I'd stop the criminal."
"Please inform us of your reasoning."
"The criminal could hurt more people," I said. "The duty of a hero is to prevent further harm. Even if I have to live with the screams of those I couldn't save—I'll bear that weight."
Silence.
Then:
"Congratulations. You have passed this trial. You are now qualified to apply for missions."
The words echoed, and before I could breathe, thick gray gas filled the room. I covered my face, but it seeped through anyway. My body went numb. My pulse slowed.
And once again—everything went dark.
"There are no right answers to this test," Principal Gregores said, standing over the glowing screens. "What matters is how fast they choose. The true time limit was only ten seconds. Any slower, and they'd have failed."