As for what was done in the month leading up to the Early Assessment, the second day was where it was all decided. Leaning against the podium, Roger twirled a piece of chalk between his fingers.
“Let’s start today’s lesson with a question. What is the biggest common weakness among the Blessed, civilian or not?”
A few hands shot up.
Thomas answered first. “Lack of discipline?”
“Maybe for aspiring Agents like you, but not exactly an issue for civilians. Jeremiah?”
“Misapplication of their Blessing?”
“A good answer, but not the biggest issue now with Identifiers being common nowadays. Ashley?”
“Poor fashion sense?”
That one got a laugh out of Roger.
“A tasteful fashion sense won’t save you in a fight, Ashley. Anyone else?”
With a combination of stumped or apathetic students, the class seemed to be out of answers. Until Robin slowly raised a hand, her other hand absentmindedly zipping and unzipping her volleyball jacket she wore over her uniform.
“Is the answer… lack of fitness?” She said, hesitantly smiling. Alex, resting his head on the table, smiled as if to say, ‘How typical.’ Roger could definitely see why. Robin’s priorities appeared to be misplaced. She certainly would have been a blessing to a sports team or the Olympics. And yet, she was sitting in Roger’s classroom.
With the correct answer, no less.
“Absolutely correct!”
“Huh? All right!” Robin fist pumped. “Uh, but why am I correct, Teach?”
June piped up. “Yeah, why the hell does that matter?”
In a flash, Roger grabbed a piece of chalk and began neatly and promptly drawing a chart spanning the entire length of the blackboard. As he did this, he answered their question.
“It’s simple. Blessings are supernatural abilities that let us do the impossible. In our efforts to achieve the impossible, we neglect what we are capable of with a little bit of training.”
From the feeble groan Roger heard from the back of the classroom, it seemed that Alex caught on the fastest. Roger was drawing a fitness plan for the next month, leading directly to the Early Assessment.
“There’s only so much we can do in a single month. Refining your Blessings will take semesters, so I will nurture your physical training in the meanwhile. We’ll be engaging in a vigorous training regimen until the Early Assessment.”
Robin and Thomas shot up from their chairs.
“Finally!” They exclaimed in unison.
“Finally? It’s our second day…” Lloyd murmured.
“For a moment, I was afraid we wouldn’t follow any kind of proper procedure.” Thomas sighed with relief.
“And I heard Myriad High was real tough on the body, so I was waiting for this!” Robin said.
Meanwhile, Alex and Ashley had their grievances.
“Why don’t we settle for some light calisthenics? Yoga, maybe?”
“Sweating is gross! It’s, like, a waste of makeup!”
Roger laughed off the complaining and packed up his materials. “Rarely do people regret proper exercise once they commit to it. As for those who aren’t so athletically inclined, we’ll pair you with someone who is.” He shot a finger towards Robin.
“Robin!”
“Yeah, coach—I mean—yeah, Teach?”
“You will be our Physical Fitness Leader for this month. Use your affinity for training to target the weaknesses of your classmates and iron out their flaws as much as possible with the time we're given. Thomas, you’re second in command.”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Yes, Teach!”
“Excellent.” Roger gestured for the students to follow him out of the classroom. “Let’s begin.”
There was more to this than a makeshift boot camp. It was to test the quality of the nanoinjections as well. Their physical bodies look the same, but may as well be different bodies in how well it will sustain damage and repair itself when given the chance. However, muscle damage leads to muscle repair, and muscle repair leads to stronger muscles. This means that they will be doing much more than just some light exercises.
Students from different Halls would murmur and jeer as they watched the small Miscellaneous Class run through the tunnels of the Principality. These same tunnels built for Tram passage were now a circuit for the poor kids to run through. They were forced to match the pace of the Tram, which was specifically slowed for their exercise. Mr. Hill leaned over the railings of the Tram’s caboose.
From an obnoxiously loud megaphone he held, he listed off strategies and explanations.
“In through the nose and out the mouth! Just because you were given a nanoinjection, doesn’t mean you can’t grow stronger or weaker! Just 12 more miles to go!”
In the back row, complaints were to be had.
“How, the heck, am I still running?” Ashley said between heavy panting.
“Teach, just let me use my Blessing, man!” Isaac pleaded.
“But that would make this a waste of time, Isaac.” Roger tutted. Isaac could only groan in response.
“Too late for that.”
Alex was in the back row as well, but his breathing was regulated, despite the miles they had already run. He had a withdrawn look of someone waiting for the right time to leave a boring conversation.
“Everyone’s staring at us. . .” Lloyd murmured from the middle row. June was by his side and craned her neck towards the students from the other Halls.
“Mind your own business before I run over there!” She hollered.
That caused a decent chunk of the crowds to disperse.
“Uh, thank you. . .”
“The fuck did you say? Speak up!” June snapped.
Lloyd's face froze in fear, and his footsteps grew heavier. He began slowing down as well. Jeremiah nearly collided into him by accident, barely keeping both of them upright. Gloria-Grace looked behind her, and down at Lloyd’s feet.
"Hm? Are your shoes normally made of rock?” Gloria-Grace asked. “I never realized that. Silly me!”
Meanwhile, in the front, Robin was running backwards, watching her fellow students as some struggled and some thrived.
“The ones in the back are feelin’ it, but they haven’t given up, Coach!”
“Wonderful.” Roger smiled. “I think they’ll be ready to do the same thing while carrying weights by next week.”
“Sir, permission to lead in a running cadence?” Thomas asked in a shout.
“Hmm. Only if everyone else wants to.”
Thomas turned his head as much as possible to look back.
“Everyone! How about we—”
The boy was instantly assailed by an onslaught of groans, shouting, and other violent, vulgar ways to say ‘no.’
Thomas faced forward, a clear look of confusion.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“But isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? This is a military-adjacent organization!”
And the days of back-breaking exercise continued. From running through the Principality’s tunnels to scaling the massive cavern walls, the Misc. Class had learned the ins-and-outs of certain areas of the Principality that they were allowed to traverse. For some of the less athletic students, a small sliver of muscle had begun to show itself. And for those more used to the rigorous exercise, they realized the limits of their body had risen exponentially.
As for the Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie teams, progress had been made, but none were satisfied. There was never enough time. Roger knew this, and now his students were beginning to understand as well.
“Not that they are even close to knowing the full of it.” Roger muttered as he sat on one of the many benches in the center of the Miscellaneous Lane.
It was the day of the Early Assessment and this time, Roger waited for them.
As expected, Roger watched as the students left the Dormitory as a group. Roger made sure to make their togetherness a habit, whether or not they truly got along just yet. He stood up, and the group slowed to a halt as they noticed him.
“Good morning, class.” Roger said. He surveyed the expressions of his students: some were calm, a few were excited. Most of them, though, were nervous.
“We’ll be making a detour.” He gestured for them to follow. “With me.”
“Yo, Teach?”
“Yes, Isaac?”
“Respectfully, where the heck are we?!”
The large elevator they were taking for over a minute had revealed a new world beneath their Principality. Through the elevator’s bulletproof glass, they found themselves surrounded by an industrial hive of clean white machinery. While the Halls of Myriad High attempted to mimic the outside world, this place did not bother. Instead, it felt more like a different planet with different rules altogether. The elevator no longer descended, but began to travel horizontally in a tube-like infrastructure.
“This is the Industrial Floor. You could say this is where the impressive technology of Myriad High is born, tested, and verified.”
“And so my Pilgrimage grows stranger.” Claudius said.
“Could we get a tour, maybe?” Jeremiah asked.
“Screw that!” Ashley whined. She pointed down towards a long line of technicians in puffy jumpsuits and protective eyewear. “There’s no color variety here. Just White, Off-white, Cloud Gray, and Pale silver.”
“Ash, keep it real with me. There’s no way the last three colors you said aren’t the same fucking colors.” June said.
Out of all people, the frigid Natali held her face to the glass, attempting to absorb what she saw as best she could. She refrained from chewing her fingernails, settling for resting a thumb to her clenched teeth. No time for envy, Ms. Amatore, Roger thought.
“You’ll be meeting someone important. Be respectful and attentive, please.”
“As long as they do the same for a woman of my caliber, I suppose.” Gloria-Grace decided while cooling herself with an oversized fan.
“You’re fanning yourself? In this air-conditioned elevator?” Robin asked.
“Let’s not get distracted.” Thomas growled. “Remember what Sir just said.”
They soon left the elevator after it lowered itself onto what seemed to be a large landing pad. What is normally used for transporting machinery had just successfully transported freshmen instead. Then again, Roger figured, Both the machinery and the students function similarly.
The door slid open, and one of the most important men of Seraph was waiting for them.
“15 minutes early, as expected,” Dr. Merwin Hardt said with a clean smile. “So I prepared just as early.” Roger moved to shake the doctor’s outstretched hand. The small crowd behind Roger were silent, either out of respect for the old hero, or because they didn’t know who they were dealing with.
A subdued croak from Jeremiah proved that at least one of them knew.
“Class, this is Dr. Merwin Hardt, the Physiology Hall’s Main Instructor. He is also the overall facilitator for this Early Assessment.”
Gloria-Grace began to hold her hand out for Dr. Hardt to kiss, but Thomas firmly and gently brought it back down. As that happened, she looked at Robin with pursed lips.
“Who is this man, exactly?”
“Howdoyounotknow?” Jeremiah interjected. Realizing how loudly he barged into the conversation, he lowered his voice as he readjusted his crooked glasses.
“That’s the retired, Fr?nka-born, Dominion-rank Agent, Stromstark?! AKA Dr. Stormstark! He has eel pores in his palms that can freely transmit any measure of voltage he wants, with a reported 0.0001 margin of error!”
Gloria-Grace’s lips thinned. Her eyes were blank.
“Very well, I understand completely.”
“No she doesn’t.” Isaac whispered as he pulled Jeremiah back to calm him down.
Dr. Hardt held the amused smile of a man who is used to this level of shenanigans. Roger couldn’t blame him. This class was somehow even more of a production than the last.
“Anyways,” Roger said. “While we make our way to the Testing Site, could I ask you to explain the Early Assessment in person, Dr. Hardt?”
“But of course, Instructor. This way, everyone.”
As they followed the Doctor through the busy corridors of pale square chambers and plexiglass walls, their brief was detailed by Dr. Hardt as if they were on a tour, and not deciding the trajectory of their careers.
“As you are now, calling yourself students of Myriad is highly debatable, since you can be quickly removed upon failing the Early Assessment. If your profile gained the curiosity of your Instructor, the Early Assessment decides if you will gain his full attention.” Dr. Hardt explained.
“It’s like the last day of try-outs.” Robin decided.
“Or Hell Week during bootcamp.” Thomas said.
They both had a shared look of intensity on their faces that made a few other students laugh.
“I wouldn’t make comparisons, you two.” Roger said. “This won’t be like anything you have experienced. Please continue, Doctor.”
“Of course.” Dr. Hardt waved off a few armored guards, who promptly approached two separate authentication screens on each side of a large metal gate. They synchronized the swiping of their cards, and the first layer of the complex gate had opened. It revealed a smaller authentication screen. As he tapped away at the screen, he continued his explanation.
“But there was one problem we never managed to solve. That being: How can we create a test that truly gauges how well a student’s Blessings can contribute to T.H.R.O.N.E.’s mission while not running the risk of needlessly endangering them? It’s a simple answer.”
There was a loud yet pleasant ringing from the authentication screen, and the rest of the multilayered metal gate pulled to the sides, one by one.
“We simulate it.” There was a tinge of pride in Dr. Hardt's normally relaxed voice.
“I call it Paradiso.”
The last gate parted, revealing a stories-high machine in the shape of a perfect cube. The complexities of the machine could not be seen, despite the exterior of the cube being similar to glass. The reflection of the glass seemed to twist the reflection of the crowd into an endless swirl. Unfortunately, the majesty of Paradiso was slightly obscured by scaffolding and ladders latched on its sides. There were even tarps set nearby, most likely housing earlier construction equipment. From above, thick plexiglass separated a team of technicians in the pale uniforms, huddled behind numerous screens of blinking data.
The awed students were quiet, save for the fast exhale of breath.
Roger maintained his mask, but he was no different in mind than his students. And to think, I was sure I knew all of the Director’s secrets. As if he read his mind, Dr. Hardt approached his junior’s side. He was much shorter than Roger, but the doctor’s hushed tone carried over to his ears nonetheless. Roger noted the excited gleam in the older gentleman’s eyes.
“This was a top-secret prototype I was to take to the grave. And then suddenly, Director Hunt orders me to run a test drive with your students?” Dr. Hardt’s smile stretches. A manic look of an experimenter who finally got what he wanted.
“I wonder, Roger. Who are you, really? He asked.
Before Roger could form a reply, Dr. Hardt threw an open hand to the cube named Paradiso.
“Paradiso is the front-running prototype to full-dive augmented reality. AR is no alien commodity to our world nowadays, but one sensation is heavily dulled in commercial machines.” Dr. Hardt pinched his chin with his index finger and thumb.
“Pain, I assume?” Roger asked.
“Pain, indeed. Paradiso replicates every part of the human experience in pinpoint accuracy. It even replicates your current state of bodily function as well.”
“How?” Natali demanded. “How is that possible?”
A few of the other students stared at Natali’s outburst.
“Ms. Amatore, how about a question?” Dr. Hardt said. “The only way living data can perfectly transfer to augmented reality is with consistently tracked information. How can this be done?
Natali paused, then relaxed her shoulders in resignation.
“The nanomachines. One of the nanoinjectors are tracking and compiling our biometrics.”
Dr. Merwin Hardt nodded.
“With biometrics, Paradiso can synchronize your real and fake selves, accurately imitate your Blessing’s effects, how your body would act upon the outside world, as well as how the outside world would act upon your body. For all intents and purposes, you will be in the situation Paradiso creates for you.”
“But we won’t die, right?” Lloyd asked.
“I’m sorry?” Dr. Hardt tilted his head, leaning his ear toward the scar-faced boy.
“He wished to know if our lives would be forfeit upon failure.” Claudius said.
“Oh, not at all. The moment you receive a lethal wound or deteriorate to a state where death is imminent, your assessment comes to an end.”
“Oh man, this is crazy.” Isaac fidgeted with anticipation. “Put me in, Doc, cuz I’m ready!”
“Very well!” Dr. Hardt laughed. He held up a hand to the technicians above. Soon, Paradiso began to emit a ground-shaking hum, the vibrations practically massaging Roger from the calves down. There were a number of seats on the scaffolding around Paradiso. They began to glow a deep green, beckoning someone to sit upon them. For each student, two technicians prepared a chair, tapping a multitude of buttons and flipping an equal amount of small levers. The humming grew even louder.
“Everyone, sit down and prepare for the sleep injections.” Roger said.
Isaac’s fidgeting quickly deflated.
“Injections? Like. . . needles?”
“No pussying out now, Ballsaac.” June began dragging the increasingly limp Isaac.
“Not the needles. . .”
Alex smiled as he stretched in the chair, reclining into it with ease as if it were a lounge chair on a cruise ship.
“I like this. I could use some REM sleep.”
As the students settled into their chairs, the Doctor and Roger began to climb the scaffolding to the computer room. There, they’ll observe each of their projected scenarios. Before shutting the door behind him, Roger shouted down to them.
“This is the culmination of a month’s work. Be proud you made it here, but don’t you dare become content. Remember: You fail if you cannot fulfill your objective!”
Roger absentmindedly adjusted his glasses.
“Or if you die.”
