The university was enormous. Acres of campus littered with green fields and half-skyscrapers. Glass and stone cathedral-like buildings demonstrated variety and architectural genius in equal measure. The family followed the signs and pathways devoid of fellow pilgrims to the main hall auditorium, where they could have their choice of seating and wait for the other families to arrive. Having successfully skipped ahead of the literal hordes of people exiting from trains across the nation, they found themselves a full hour ahead of when the orientation welcome speech would actually begin. They spent that time meandering around the campus, Nancy and Peter pointing out specific buildings or landmarks with anecdotal memories.
“And that’s the tree you were conceived under,” father took his mother’s hand and grinned broadly as they stood in front of a large Willow tree by a riverbank.
Nancy playfully slapped her husband’s chest. “We never even met at University.”
“Yeah, but when I came through, that tree was called Maidenhead because of all… well. Point is, don’t get any ideas about coming here at night in Spring with a special someone or you’ll start to think about your parents getting it on.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“It really is quite beautiful at night,” a hint of a smile played on his mother’s lips.
“That’s… I don’t think I’ll ever touch the tree.”
“Best if you don’t,” the smile completely faded from Nancy’s face in less than the blink of an eye, immediately replaced by a haunted look. “There’s a lot of people who gather here for… romantic entanglements. And I do mean ‘entanglement’.”
Peter put a hand to his chin, “Well on that note, I think our tour is all… tied up. We should probably head back to the auditorium.”
Nancy again tried to suppress her laughter and failed as puffs of air snorted through her nose from every convulsion of her chest.
“Do you think we can get some food first?” Nate asked. “The train ride was a bit long.”
“Don’t worry,” his dad answered with a questionably malicious grin plastered to his face. For a moment, Nate feared where his father’s devious mind had taken him, but his questions were answered with his father’s second-half of a response. “We’re bound to find someplace that sells food soon.”
Nancy’s shoulders shook up and down violently as she continued her attempt at laughter suppression and continued failing. Her mouth twitched chaotically as she put forth the entirety of her willpower into mastering herself.
“It’s really not that funny,” Nate shook his head.
His dad gave him a hurt look. “You’re giving me a bad wrap.”
A moment of silence passed before anyone caught his third rope pun. Nate slapped his palm into his forehead, while Nancy rubbed something wet from the corner of her eye.
“Just… I am so grateful there’s no one around right now,” Nathaniel sighed aloud. “You guys are the worst,” he chuckled, shaking his head.
On their way back to the auditorium, they did end up passing by a small street taco food vendor, grabbing a quick bite to eat as they made their way back. The food was good, cheap, and conveniently accessible as every other family seemed to have been waiting around inside the building where they were supposed to be instead of wandering around aimlessly like the Liones had. A warm breeze blew by as the family teased each other, the last vestiges of summer still hanging heavily in the blue sky. Looking up at the peaceful white clouds, Nathaniel could almost trick himself into believing life was all so normal- that the world wasn’t broken and invaded. Like he could walk about and just attend a college where his biggest fear was having embarrassing parents. Despite the world ending, today was… peaceful. It was a feeling he never had back in Columbus. There had always been that sliver of fear in the whole city’s mind that today might be the day Columbus falls. Today might be the day where a Tier V gate fluxes in and countless people die. Even looking up, Columbus had a blue sky too, but there was always a thick finger of red just on the horizon. But here, Chicago? The hometown of Bastion himself? No hint of the sky shattering.
The difference one Hero could make. If we can be of help, then it’s our duty to help. Or as Bastion coined: When the world is darkest, be ever brighter. Not exactly the same idea, but the sentiments were certainly holding hands and skipping down the sidewalk together, Nate mentally shrugged to himself. He gathered himself, standing straighter with the idea of helping humanity however he could, and walked forward purposefully.
Murmurs of ambient conversations flooded the auditorium, buzzing loud enough that absolutely no words could be understood outside of a three foot radius. The Liones pushed their way through the crowds of people who had no seats to claim and finally made their way to the back to the front rows.
“Glad we got here early,” Nancy gave a triumphant grin. “Probably half of these people will have to stand through the long, boring introductions.”
Sitting down, Nathaniel took a look behind him to realize the truth in his mother’s words. This auditorium was packed. Every seat was taken, every aisle as filled as the ushers would allow, every square inch of space that could cram in another body was occupied.
“Huh,” came his dad’s voice from his left. Nathaniel looked at his father, who continued to speak, “Looks like there is such a thing as second chances.”
Nathaniel followed his father’s gaze to the occupant of the chair to his immediate right. A familiar girl sat staring straight forward, her curly brown hair acting well as a curtain for the expression on her face.
Well ignoring her now would just be awkward. “Uh, hi, I’m Nathaniel. You throw a pretty good elbow.” He extended a hand toward Jenna, whose whole body tensed. Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned her face to meet Nathaniel’s, her deep pink eyes wide with… not exactly fear? Trepidation? Anxiety?
He watched her throat gulp down dread just before her mouth opened. “Hi,” her voice was rendered completely inaudible by the drone of thousands of bodies in animated conversation, but Nathaniel could read lips well enough to know the steps to the basic dance of greetings. “Jenna,” she said, gaining just a hair of conviction. “Sorry about-”
“Alright, alright,” a voice boomed over the auditorium as a man suddenly stood upon the central stage with a microphone. “Everybody here? Raise your hand if you’re not.” He paused, then chuckled to himself before continuing, “Great. Glad to see you’re all safe. Parents: good job. Now scram.” Again, he paused, waiting for a response. “Seriously. Go. Get out of here. I’m the Dean of the Heroics Program for Gate Delving, your children are in good hands, and as you’ve no doubt noticed, there isn’t exactly room to spare in here.” Again, he waited for movement. Slowly, hesitantly, parents stood up one by one and left the building again. “Yes, yes, good, good. Keep on moving, yes.” After about ten minutes of the dean encouraging exodus, he addressed the room once more. “Okay, that should hopefully free up enough seats that no one is left standing. Everyone who is already seated, move forward. No empty chairs, come on now. If there’s an empty chair in front of you, you’re already failing my program. Let’s get a move on. Yes, good. Good.”
Nathaniel and Jenna did not move, being already in the front row. Much to Nathan’s surprise, another familiar face plopped into the vacant seat his father had just left- Huck. He grinned to himself and shook his head, giving Huck’s shoulder a friendly push to grab his attention. Huck recognized the face and nodded back.
“Excellent, excellent. There’s a chair for every admittance this year, so if you find yourself still standing in the back, you obviously don’t belong here. Please leave now. Yes, seriously, go. Okay. Finally,” the dean huffed a sigh of contentment. “Only half an hour of our time wasted. You might come to rue the slow and confused procession of people. Let this be your first lesson: time wasted from not heeding orders is time lost. Anyway, welcome to Gate University. And for most of you, welcome to the City that Can’t be Beat: Chicago. I’m Dean Anderson of the Heroic Program for Gate Delving, and as the incoming Freshman class, you will all start off in that major. As you are deemed unworthy throughout the coming years, you may drop out of university entirely, or choose a new field of study as you see fit. But until humanity has gained a foothold back into this world instead of a handful of holdouts, we must take drastic action. Due to recent political changes, our main program has no limits on class size. If your class graduates with 1,000 new Heroes, then a thousand new Heroes enter the world. The same goes for if only ten of you are deemed worthy.” He let the weight of those words land on the audience as he prolonged his dramatic pause.
“I sincerely hope to produce more Heroes than fewer, but that will be more up to you than me. Each year has a threshold for success and failure- a standard. Fail to surpass the standard, and you are no longer in the Heroic program. End of story. No more cutting numbers down to size, no more class restrictions, and no more curving grades. I know many of you see your enrollment here as a sort of draft, but let me assure you- you aren’t wrong. Humanity is at war. It’s a war we’re losing; a war we’ve been losing since it started. Gates open and humans die. We have no way to strike back, or shift the battlefield. We have no way of knowing where the demons come from, and no way to negotiate. All we can hope to do is keep human deaths to a minimum and hope we have enough numbers to survive and make it to the next generation. My greatest aspiration is that in a few decades, one of you will be able to stand where I am standing, speaking what I have spoken to a new generation- a new hope for humanity, just as you all are the hope of my generation.” Dean Anderson paused dramatically once again, letting his words settle on the ears of his audience.
“Behind me are rows of testing pods,” the Dean looked out over the auditorium again. “You might be wondering why there are so many of you and so few pods. The answer is: they’re really expensive. Today is going to be a long, but necessary day for you all. These testing pods will measure your Trait Potential. It’s not a measure of who you are today, but of who you might become. I’m sure many of you have questions pertaining to how, but the answer is rather complicated. For the truly curious, pay attention in your upcoming classes. You might glean enough information to put the pieces of the puzzle together well enough to get the theory behind how these instruments work. We’re going to go around the auditorium by sections, and then rows. Yes, I realize this is going to take a long time, and yes, while your section is not active, you may leave the auditorium to go and eat and meet up with your parents. If you leave, you will need to sign out, and when you sign out, there is a mandatory check-in every two hours. Miss that, and your grades will plummet. Fail out now and… well, good luck finding a job anywhere. Due to the vast quantities of you all, you will be assigned temporary dormitories, again by section, row, and seat. You’ll be dismissed to your dormitories by 9 PM tonight, and testing will resume at 6 AM tomorrow. From 9 PM to 6 AM, you will not need to check in every two hours. Normally, I wouldn’t include that statement as I thought it was rather obvious, but last year’s jokers proved me wrong on that front. They somehow got ahold of my personal number and convinced their class to continue checking in every two hours. The next day, I made sure they felt every bit as miserable as I did. You don’t want to follow in their footsteps. Oh, and just to be blue-sky clear: once you’ve been tested, you also won’t be subject to the two-hour check-in anymore. We’ll start with section A row 1 and go around from there. Row 1, come on up and step into a pod.” Dean Anderson put his microphone back in its stand and guided the students upward to the stage, and then into their pods.
“Nate, you know what section we’re in?” Huck leaned over to ask his question, not daring to take his eyes off of the mysterious pods that now housed students. Something like steam puffed upward at the base as they activated and the entire auditorium gasped as one.
“D,” Jenna answered from Nate’s other side.
So she can speak.
“They’ll be in there for about five minutes,” Dean Anderson addressed the crowd once again, grabbing the microphone in its stand. “And despite all appearances otherwise, I promise you, I’m not pressure-cooking anyone. They, and by extension you, will be perfectly fine throughout this ordeal. Stay and watch if you must, but I would suggest getting lunch with your parents. They should all remember how long this part takes, and are free to travel back home at their own convenience. No, we do not have housing for them. Thank you for your attention.”
“So… five minutes per row with about… 30 rows per section,” Nate quickly counted and multiplied. “150 minutes per section if everyone moves really efficiently. Probably closer to 3 hours per section.” His eyes widened as realization struck. “We won’t even get tested today.”
“Are you sure?” Huck asked doubtfully. “That seems wrong.”
“It’s about noon now. Noon to three is the end of the first section. Section B will be three to six, and section C will be six to nine.”
“And we’re section D,” Huck nodded to Jenna. “So what, just wander around for the rest of the day?”
Nathaniel shrugged. “I already got something to eat with my parents. Pretty good street tacos not too far from here. While everyone’s still enthralled with what’s going on, we should be able to beat the crowds.”
Jenna turned to face the two other boys, her face serious. “Just remember, our temporary dorms are also our seat numbers.”
“Right,” Huck snapped his fingers before checking his seat number. “Looks like I’m eight, so you guys would be seven and six.”
“So the row would probably be which floor you’re staying at in building D,” Nate nodded.
Jenna nodded her head once in affirmation. “We should eat, check back in, then head out to look at our rooms.”
The first to stand up in the entire auditorium, they signed out and left to hunt down a decent lunch. Nathaniel’s parents were outside, waiting in the throngs of people and waved him down. “Nathaniel! Oh wow, we didn’t think you’d be out for another couple hours at least. Oh, and Jenna, was it?” Nancy greeted.
“Glad to see you two bumping into each other again so soon,” Peter couldn’t hide the sly grin from his face.
Nate took in a deep breath. “Yes, ha ha. I’m taking these guys to that taco stand for lunch. We can all go, if they decide to flag down their parents too.”
“Mine left,” Jenna shrugged. “I told them we’d not even be tested today and we already said our goodbyes.”
Nate frowned as something about what she had just said tickled the back of his mind.
“My parents couldn’t make it,” Huck folded his arms. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”
“Oh, well in that case,” Nancy smiled to the group, “lunch is on us. So long as the young man here introduces himself?”
Huck actually blushed at his social misstep. “Ah. Sorry. I’m Huxley. Everyone calls me Huck.”
“Huck. It’s wonderful to meet you,” Nancy smiled. “And we’d be happy to play the part of your surrogate parents for now,” she chuckled.
Nate rose an eyebrow at his mother.
“But of course we won’t be sticking around,” she quickly amended. “Not long after lunch.”
So it was that the five of them enjoyed a pleasant walk around the beautiful campus as the white clouds peacefully drifted up above them.
“So do any of you know your Traits yet, or are you waiting on the testing pods?” Peter asked the group between bites of another taco.
“Some level of healing,” Huck shrugged nonchalantly. “Hopefully good enough to get me into a Delving team.”
“If you’ve noticed your Trait already, you’ll probably do just that,” Peter nodded. “Trait potential is everything at this place. It’s the limit to how far you can grow, and that’s what really matters while you’re training and learning.”
“What about you guys?” Huck turned to Nate and Jenna. “Well, I’m guessing Vanguard with you,” he waved dismissively to Nate.
“Actually, I’m a Reader,” Nate corrected.
Huck’s face dropped.
“And I’d rather wait until I’m confirmed,” Jenna grimaced. “First manifested Trait in my family. Maybe.”
Huck’s face dropped further. “So… neither of you will be staying on the Delving track?”
“That’s…” Jenna frowned, fishing for the right words to say, “a lot could happen, and too much of the future is unknown right now. A lot of it depends on if my Trait has the correct potential.” She grit her teeth as a flash of anxiety passed over her face and vanished.
“Wow. You’re really nervous about this pod testing thing, aren’t you?” Huck inquired.
“Like I said, there’s a lot that depends on these results,” she tried to chuckle, but her nerves made the laugh too strained.
“Huh,” Peter commented. “Well, the only thing to do is put your best foot forward.”
“Thanks, Mr. Lione,” Jenna sighed, still fidgeting with her hands.
Nathaniel’s father smiled and nodded as if he had just imparted ancient wisdom and fixed everything by doing so. Nancy smiled at her husband and shook her head before speaking gently with Jenna. “What my husband probably means to say is we like to worry so much about the future that we forget about where we are now. Even if things don’t go the way you’re thinking or hoping, you can’t stop moving forward.”
“Maybe,” Jenna’s gaze went beyond Nathaniel’s parents into vacant nothingness. “I’m just a little nervous. It’s just that a lot of my life is based on a hunch right now and early tomorrow will put that hunch to the test so it’s sort of like validating or invalidating everything I believe and hope to be true about myself. So yeah. Kinda nervous.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I hope you stay in the Delving program here,” Huck offered. “All of us, I mean. Being alone sucks.”
Nate took in a long breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, that’s enough moping. Huck, even if I don’t make it through the program, I’ll still stick around, okay? Same goes for you, Jenna. Even if things don’t pan out for you having a Trait or whatever it isn''t what you’re actually worried about,” he gave her a nasty side-eye, letting her know that he knew that she wasn’t giving the whole story, “that’s not a reason to get so bummed out on hour 1 of day 1 of university. Whatever the future holds for us. We can still choose to face it together.”
“Right,” Huck spoke without admitting Nate’s words beyond his ears.
“If you say so,” Jenna shrugged, doing much the same. “You’re right about not moping around, though. We should start heading back for check-ins.”
“It’s been that long already?” Nate whistled.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Not yet, thankfully,” Jenna answered swiftly. “But by the time we get back? I’d rather not be made an example of.”
Slowly, Nathaniel stood up and turned to face his parents. This is goodbye. Time seemed to linger on each second as he took in their faces. He knew he’d see them again, and more likely sooner than later, but something in his heart hit a wall of realization he’d be gone from home for longer than he’d ever been before. They smiled back at him, and under that blue sky with the sound of actual birds chirping, he somehow could tell that they knew exactly what he was currently going through. And it would all be okay, in the end. His father placed a meaty hand roughly on his shoulder, holding his gaze that said a million well-practiced speeches all thrown out the window for a simple, improvised gesture of connection and love. His mother’s face flickered through a roulette of emotions before eventually landing on ‘pained goodbye’. His heart felt nearly as jumbled. Time turned surreal for Nathaniel with a realization that the past, the present, and the future were all bound up in this single moment- in this final goodbye. In these next words, this next action, he’d no longer be theirs- not that he’d stop being their son, but he’d no longer be a child. In this moment, much like when he was only a year old, his parents would once again watch him take his first steps- this time, as his own man.
“Mom, Dad,” Nathaniel had to pause, swallowing a hard lump in his throat, “...” He tried to formulate words, his mouth opening to speak before his brain could think of the right thing to say.
Peter drew his son into a hug, barely squeezing but still putting out enough force to make Nathaniel wonder if his ribs would crack. “Goodbye, Nate. You’ll always be welcomed back.”
“Especially if you come back with a beautiful young woman on your arm,” his mother whispered. “No pressure. Just saying.” She moved into the family hug.
“Bye,” the word felt ephemeral and all too heavy at once. “I love you both. Stay out of trouble.”
Nancy leaned back and rose an eyebrow with a smirk. “I think that’s our line.”
“It is. And I will,” Nate smirked back.
“He’ll try, at least,” Jenna offered casually, causing a few heads to turn inquisitively to the diminutive woman. She had the grace to blush and look away, adding, “Check-in. We should get going now. Or we’ll all get in trouble.”
Nancy gazed levelly at Jenna, leaning close to impart a barely audible whisper in Nate’s ear, “I have a funny feeling about her. Try and stick around for as long as you can tolerate her.”
Nate chuckled as he broke out of the hug, not daring to entirely dismiss his mother’s words even as he shook his head and scoffed softly. He turned to head back to the main auditorium, his heart growing heavier with each trudging step until, like a rubber band snapping, the weight vanished. His heart still held a chasm of love for his parents, but it seemed more a soft ache than a heaviness that would drag him down. A shift of his shoulders straightened his back, and his stride elongated.
“Hold on, Mr. Long Legs,” Jenna called out as Nate broke ahead of them. “Not all of us are gifted with height.”
Nate looked down at his two companions. Friends? Something more than acquaintances. Jenna stood nearly a full foot shorter than him, with Huck not faring more than a few inches better than her. He strode with his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows knit together in thought as his gaze never broke from the ground in front of his feet. They caught up with Nathaniel in only a few seconds. Jenna stopped to smile, but Huck blew by the two of them.
“Well, thank you for waiting at least,” she grinned, already moving past Nate to catch up with Huck. “We probably should be moving a bit faster, though. Try to keep up, slowpoke.”
He rolled his eyes and followed after.
By the time they reached the auditorium again, Jenna’s watch read 1350. The check-in form had no line. The three of them signed in without any issue and looked at each other for a clue of what to do now.
“Um. Let’s see how far along section A has gotten?” Jenna offered.
“Really?” Huck challenged. “Back inside? Can’t we do something else for a few hours?”
Honestly, Nate couldn’t disagree with Huck’s point. “We checked in already, and we did the math. It won’t even be remotely close to our turn until tomorrow.”
“Just this first one,” Jenna shrugged nonchalantly. “I wanna see what the auditorium’s like now real quick. Please?”
With crossed arms, Nate rolled his fingers on his bicep and turned his head to check on Huck. “You have anything specific you’d like to do instead?”
“Not really,” Huck shrugged. “Hard to know what to do if you don’t know the area too well.”
“It’ll just be a minute. Ten, tops,” Jenna insisted.
Turning, Nate opened and held open the door for his short folk to pass through. “After you.”
Jenna’s face lit up. “Thank you, kind sir.”
Huck passed through without a word, still glowering at the floor.
Nate fought to beat back the raw flood of anxiety the doors held pent up within them. Thousands of students every year, testing themselves and putting their entire future on the line to go out and try to save humanity. Sacrifices on the altars of idealism. This place chewed people up and spat them out again. Some came out again as true warriors. Some came out as fodder. Some got vomited up as wholly unworthy. Disgust and disdain from faculty for year after year of watching a hopeless death march. Hope from faculty for another promising student. Reckless abandon and youthful naivety that they would be the next Bastion. That they’d be the next Hero that makes a difference. Lambs for the slaughter. Mighty, unstoppable lions. My future depends on this day, hundreds of thousands of voices all rang out in perfect unison throughout the decades, touching this exact door. The future of humanity depends on this day, a million more voices joined in the chorus. Nate swallowed down the raw bolus of emotion and followed Huck and Jenna into the building, letting out a slow breath as the anxiety washed away from his conscious mind.
He found Jenna walking down the aisle to the front row, closely followed by Huck. The second thing he found was the auditorium had been nearly completely abandoned. Most of Section A had already been tested, and it seemed no one stuck around. Dean Anderson had taken a seat at the edge of the stage as the pods behind him steamed with essence and hummed.
“Check-ins aren’t in person. There’s a form out front,” he addressed the trio with a questioning look plain across his face.
“Yes, we already signed that,” Jenna smiled courteously, gazing around the abandoned building with feigned interest.
“So why are you here?” Dean Anderson continued.
“Just wanted to see the auditorium without so many people.”
“And how’s it look?”
“Empty,” Jenna replied, a heaviness to her answer that Nate wouldn’t have expected from her. For him, it was emotional whiplash going from Reading the chorus of voices at the door only to walk into a mostly abandoned room- a room designed to hold all of those voices at one point in time or another. She interrupted his thoughts with her next words, “Almost feels haunted.”
“Like the eyes of a million ghosts watching and waiting to see who will join them,” Dean Anderson nodded somberly. “More than a few deans have quit after only their first day of university. What do you think, Reader?”
Nate pointed questioningly to himself.
“Ah, ‘how does he know?’” Dean Anderson nodded appreciatively. “Could be I’m a Telepath. Could be a Reader that sees abilities in people. Could be that while your friend here walked in suspecting this place to be haunted, you walked in with a look that said you knew it was. Could be that this morning I was handed a folder of incoming freshmen and memorized every face and ability that showed potential. Which scenario would you prefer?”
“If I got to decide on a scenario, it would be one where demons never invaded us at all,” Nate folded his arms, but didn’t quite make eye contact with the dean.
Jenna beamed a smile at him as Dean Anderson chortled. “Can’t fault you for that one.” Dean Anderson rolled his fingers along the stage floor for a moment. “It’s funny, you know. Your timing. See that pillar right there?” he pointed behind them.
Nate turned to see a large pillar intersecting section A to support the overhang balcony of section… whatever section was above that one. It seemed the pillar ate into the row of chairs.
“That’s the one,” Dean Anderson nodded. “Shortens the row by precisely three chairs. Makes it so the next group has three empty pods. If I take three from the next row, then my order gets wonky, and students tend not to fare too well with wonk.” Again, his fingers drummed along the stage floor as he visibly thought about carefully choosing his next words. “I’ve found that best practice is to ignore the gaps entirely. If I let the students know about opportunities like this, well… things have gotten very violent very quickly in the past. However, the next group will have three empty pods. That’s a scenario I would not prefer. And here are you three.”
“Here we are,” Jenna shrugged with an innocent smile.
“Yes,” Dean Anderson contemplated. “Quite fortuitous. Almost suspiciously so. It’s occurred to me that I don’t know who you are.”
“Jenna Harris. Unconfirmed Trait. First in my family,” she gave a nervous smile.
“Unconfirmed, but not unknown,” Dean Anderson rose an eyebrow, casting a playful suspicion at the young woman. “Jenna Harris. Seems like another name I may end up having to memorize.”
“Maybe,” she gave another innocent shrug and smile. “We’d be happy to fill those three empty pods.”
At that moment the pods hissed, essence steam flooding the air as the doors cracked open. Students slowly emerged from the pods, some hacking and coughing, others falling to their knees and gasping for air, while yet others simply strode out. All of them managed to work their way to the other side of the pod where a tiny metal plate poked outward. Their Trait card. Etched into a thin sheet of polished metal, each student gazed to see for the first time with their own eyes their official Trait potential. Nate noted the ones who casually strode out of the pods seemed satisfied with their Trait potential reading, while the ones with worse reactions to the pod seemed more dejected.
“Next group,” Dean Anderson’s voice boomed loudly. “Hurry up. I don’t have all day to spend waiting for you to wake up. Get your heads out of whatever dark crevice you’ve been keeping it in and get a move on. Let’s go, let’s go.” His gaze turned toward Nathaniel, Jenna, and Huck with a questioning look.
Without further prompting, Nathaniel and Huck surged forward. It took Nathaniel until that exact moment to realize Jenna hadn’t been standing with the two of them. Apparently, she’d been more proactive in getting to the stage. Nate opened his stride to catch up, tapping her shoulder once he had made it behind her. She looked back at him with a playful grin and gave him an excited look before turning her attention back to the pods and the rapidly dwindling line.
“Good luck,” Nate offered to both Huck and Jenna.
“Don’t want luck,” Huck muttered. “Never done anything for me anyway.”
“I don’t believe in luck,” Jenna answered simultaneously. “But thanks anyway.”
Kinda weird how the ‘anyway’s lined up. He brushed off the strange coincidence and took the stairs onto the stage. The second to last pod stood open for him, its cushioned interior practically an invitation to step inside and relax. The white eggshell-smooth exterior contrasted against the dark gray padding in the harsh stage light, both looking brand new much to Nate’s relief. The last thing he wanted was to be trapped for hours in some centuries-old tech reading the potential of every student who walked into the building. He shuddered as the thought reminded him of touching the door to enter this auditorium. Hesitantly, he stepped into the pod and sat back, careful to keep his Reading unresponsive. Even dulling his senses, the raw emotion of the previous students sieged his mental walls, fighting to become his own emotions.
Darkness swallowed him as the pod closed. This isn’t so bad. About ten seconds passed with nothing noticeable occurring. Is my pod broken?
“Hello?” Nate called out, reaching forward to bang on the door, but his hand only met empty air.
He focused his eyes to see the empty auditorium again. He wasn’t in a pod, but sitting in section D chair seven. Dean Anderson was nowhere to be seen, the stage in front of him completely empty. He blinked in confusion at the deafening silence. Am I… hallucinating?
Looking around the abandoned building, Nate tried not letting his nerves get the best of him. He could feel the anxiety building up around his head as he simply sat in his chair and waited for something.
Ghostly images of people started to fill the auditorium, standing, sitting, walking. He saw them loop through a few actions before he let out a breath of frustration. Great. Stuck in a Reading until the pod finishes with… doing nothing? He tapped his finger on the seat as anxiety built up in his chest. Stupid pod. Stupid chair. Stupid historically significant building.
Nathaniel watched the scene in front of him loop several times before the ceiling exploded above him in a shower of glass and rubble. The shockwave pressed him into his chair as he watched shards of glass and stone disintegrate above him. The air swarmed with small bat-like creatures, pouring through the ruined maw of the ceiling. Fear filled Nate as the demon swarm flooded into the building, attacking the unresponsive ghostly figures. Part of his mind wondered how the creatures could see the images he was Reading, but the errant thought was shoved into the back of his mind by his fight or flight response. RUN! He willed his legs to move, battling against the paralyzing fear that glued him to his chair. Move. Now. He grunted with effort as his veritable death rained from above. This is not how Readings are supposed to go! Finally, he managed to fight off the fear that had caged him and stood upright. A demon latched onto his face as he stood, dragging its dagger-like claws across his face three times before Nate had the presence of mind to grab the foot-and-a-half tall creature himself. He pulled, but the creature didn’t want to let go, digging its hands and feet into his face. Nate yanked and endured the pain, throwing the creature to the ground and stomping on it. Its distended belly ruptured like a squashed bug.
Pandemonium filled the air around him as the swarm flittered from one looping ghostly image to the next, popping them like soap bubbles. What is even happening right now? Am I still in the pod? Nate ran toward an exit as more demons harried him. Pain arced across his back and legs as demons flew by, slashing and biting at whatever they could reach before flying away too quickly to retaliate. By the time he finally made it to the door, he could feel blood dripping in a slow trickle down his legs and back. The door was locked. He fought the panic that smothered his chest. His hands shook uncontrollably as he turned to face the swarm again. The only other door was straight across the auditorium. I’ll have to sprint. More building collapsed around him with a loud crash as rock and metal rained down on him again. Standing here is suicide. But so is going through that swarm. Caught between a frying pan and the fire, Nate scanned the room around him for anything that might help before his eyes landed on the metallic shine of something by his feet. A… short length of piping? Better than nothing.
Picking it up felt different. It was hard to explain the sensation, especially to anyone unfamiliar with Reading, but suffice it to say, it felt different- something akin to holding putty. He gave the rod a curious squeeze, only to be met by the hard metallic resistance one would expect from holding what amounted to a cylinder of metal, but even with that physical sensation, something in his senses still told him he held unformed mush instead of solid piping. Is this related to my Reading Trait? The thought flickered through his head, but felt wrong somehow. Close, but not exactly right. This wasn’t an object that wanted to tell a story, it felt a lot more like… it wanted to hear a story?
Not wanting to waste more time, Nate shook his head and began his charge across the room. The flying creatures assaulted him relentlessly, darting in and out of range before Nate could land a strike against them. His clothes tore into rents as the creatures’ claws ceaselessly cut into him. He could feel his lifeblood slipping away by the second as the attacks never relented. You’re meant to protect me, the thought came to Nate out of desperation and he shunted the emotions into his pipe. To Nate’s dismay, he felt the metal in his hand react. It broadened and stretched itself into a shield, thwarting the attack of the next demon. The metal dented with the impact as the sound of a gong crashed into his ears.
You aren’t meant to break. You’re meant to be unstoppable- impenetrable. Strong. Impervious to damage. He shoved these thoughts into the pipe-turned shield and watched as the dent formed back into the shield. The next creature that crashed into him hit the shield with a small pop of tiny bones breaking. It slid against the metal, dropping to the ground dead. Nate couldn’t stop himself from laughing as the idea of living through this attack took root in his soul. Another attack against his back brought him back to the present and he charged forward, leading his sprint with the strange piece of metal. He made it across the auditorium again. Frantically, he grabbed at the door handle only to realize this door had also been locked. The swarm of demons poured through the room around him, popping the last of the ghost-like figures they shouldn’t have been able to see before turning their attention to the only human left in the room.
You are an impenetrable defense. No attack gets through you. You have never allowed harm to your wielder, and you never will. He could feel something from his core pouring into the shield, flooding it with… Intent. His mind clicked with the revelation and his core shifted. He could feel his essence rearranging itself, forging new pathways and reinforcing old ones. Reading isn’t only about history. No, that’s not quite right. The answer felt like it was on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t think of the right phrase. And he’d run out of time. Demons surged forward in a tidal wave of wings and claws and teeth as Nate doubled down on pouring Intent into his shield.
His arm moved on its own, led by the shield as the demons closed in- faster than his brain could properly track. A backwards lunge forced him to release the shield else risk his shoulder dislocating from the wild motion. He could taste his own death as he let go of the shield, but pain never came to him. Instead, the shield seemed to float on its own, flying through the air at incredible speed to defend against every attack from every angle, not letting any demon close in with him. Little by little, it bludgeoned the flapping creatures to death as they surrounded him. Nate watched in shock as his creation worked at speeds nearly too fast to track. Pops and cracks of bone filled his ears along with the crashes of metal as he stood in the center of a cyclone of safety.
Is this my potential? Is this what I might be capable of? Reading and telling? No, that’s not right either. Reading isn’t about listening to a story being told. Significance. Nate wanted to facepalm. Reading is about significance- history- purpose- Intent. He furrowed his eyebrows as more thoughts buzzed through his mind connecting and disconnecting with other thoughts like a giant bowl of spaghetti. I can Read the Intent of significant objects. I can view their purpose and past. And I can Imbue Intent into objects to give them purpose and past. I can take an old dull knife and reinforce it with its past and significance to make it cut better than a brand new knife. I can take an old broom and sweep all the dust out of a room with just a few swipes. I could turn a pillow into a sleeping potion.
But how had I turned an old pipe into a shield? The thought disrupted his stream of consciousness to the point where he noticed the swarm had backed away. Instead, the small flying demons seemed to coalesce on the stage of the auditorium into a humanoid shape. That description wasn’t exactly fair- the small creatures were already somewhat humanoid, just 18 inches tall with bat-like wings and faces. But the creature they coalesced into was human-sized as well as shaped. It folded its wings behind its back and crossed its arms as it glared at Nathaniel, as if daring him to make the next move.
Before Nathaniel could wrap his head around what had just happened, the demon moved. Nate blinked, and the demon’s fist was an inch from his nose, his shield completely deformed around it, but holding the attack at bay. Impervious, impervious! Nate poured his intent into the metal scrap, which pushed back against the powerful creature millimeter by millimeter, slowly but surely winning the game of reverse tug-of-war. Strength unmatched. Nothing gets through you. Unbending, unyielding, unbreaking. Your defense is unmatched. You were made to be strong. Forged to be strong. Proven to be unmatched. You will not fail. You will not falter. He poured everything he had into the shield, realizing his life was on the line. That demon could move faster than Nate could blink.
Another reverberating crash rang out through the room as the demon’s fist once again collided with the hovering shield, this time bending the metal instead of warping it like putty. The creature stared in shock as its second attack was thwarted- as if hardly any creature could even withstand one hit, let alone two. Faster and faster the attacks came in, each one met with metal which only grew more stubborn the more punishment it took. Even as attacks came in simultaneously from differing directions, the shield stretched and morphed to intercept and halt them. The fight was a stalemate. Nate desperately looked around for something that might tip the fight in his direction. His eyes landed on a bloody shard of stone.
Cradling the sliver of rock in his hand, he could feel something within it. Much like the pipe, the rock felt different. Potential. An empty space where significance should be. The blood felt slimy in his hands, reeking of rot. Demon blood. An idea flitted through his mind and he ran with it. Demon slayer. Your creation was bathed in demon blood. You rip and tear and cut and pierce. No hide is thick enough to stop you, no demon can weather your ire. You were born in destruction and forged in their blood. You are unstoppable. Your purpose is to kill demons. You must be strong and unerring. You must be tough and unflinching. You are their bane. Your purpose is destruction and wrath. Nate flinched as the small movements of the stone began to cut shallow grooves into his skin, breaking his concentration. He steadied his breathing and poured more Intent into the small object. You were once whole and are now broken. You were a part of structure and stability and are now a part of destruction and blood. Through destruction and blood, you will bring stability and structure. Through breaking, you will create wholeness. Your past will work to bring your purpose through new means.
Nate winced again as his palms began openly bleeding as sharpness somehow literally radiated from the edges of the stone. Without thinking, he threw the rock towards the demon.
It died. Without fanfare or warning, the demon slumped to the ground, a hole drilled through its head. Fatigue washed over Nate as he panted for breath. The auditorium was covered in gore and ruin. Adrenaline faded, bringing waves of exhaustion to the forefront of his being. Nate collapsed on the floor, his breath ragged. He stared at his battered body, beaten and bloody.
Then the pod opened and Nate collapsed to the floor, gasping for air as misty essence evaporated like steam around him.