Sasha sat on the mat, legs wide apart while rolling her shoulders forward and backward in a circular motion. “It’s so shitty that we can’t use our powers. So fucking unfair.”
“Why?” Bohdan raised his upper body, doing sit-ups.
Sasha rolled her eyes. “Oh, spare me the lecture.”
“But it makes perfect sense. What use are your powers if your physicality isn’t up to scratch?”
“You only say that because your power is your strength.”
“No. If you rely only on your powers while neglecting your fitness, what will you do when those powers don’t work? For example, how will you deal with an enemy with superhuman strength that closes the distance to the point where your powers are ineffective?”
Sasha kissed her teeth. “You create space again. That much is obvious.”
Bohdan only smiled. “Oh, I assure you, if you let me get in close, you’re dead.”
Oddly enough, Ella agreed with the big guy. She only had to harken back to her fight with Crocman, who exuded physical prowess. If a superhuman wasn’t up to par with his speed and ferocity, they ran a grave risk of facing him if their powers proved ineffective at immobilizing him, even for a moment.
Gosh. I’m beginning to think like my brother.
After thirty minutes of lighthearted warm-ups, the agents shuffled them into the next room, which was expansive with a high ceiling that was dotted by many powerful lights. A circular, ten-lane track spanned most of the floor. Something she could only call a jumbotron, with a large wrap-around screen, hung from the ceiling at the room’s center. Synapse’s ape robot sat to the far right, with the coordinator nowhere in sight. So she guessed that Synapse still resided in her robot. And with how large the thing was, there was a high possibility it served as a mobile office.
Ivarsson cleared her throat, garnering everyone’s attention. “The criteria to pass the speed test are as follows; cross the finish line for the 200m race in 27 seconds to gain full marks with every second spent over deducting from your score. As for the 1500m race, just finishing will do.” Her teeth flashed in a grin. “That shouldn’t be too hard for a start. If you somehow manage to flunk this, well, I’d advise you to head home after today and focus on your fitness in time for next year’s assessment.”
Someone who Ella recognized as Harrell, the agent she met with Ivarsson during her superhuman assessment, handed Ivarsson a tablet. After parsing through its contents, Ivarsson spoke loud and clear. “If you hear your name, move to the start line.”
The monkey-looking man was amongst the first names called, his being Luc Moreau. As he made his way over to the start line, his shoulders slumped lower, oozing awkward diffidence. Sasha was the last name they called, and she made her journey with a sour expression. The chosen superhumans dropped, positioning themselves on the start block. Even the noisiest superhumans amongst them fell silent to watch the race. It was as if she could hear her beating heart, willing Sasha, someone she just met an hour ago, to pass the test.
At the roar of a loud bang, they surged forward with speed and determination, their arms swinging and legs pounding into the ground. By the bend of the track, Moreau, who had shed every ounce of timidness, assumed the lead of the race by a wide margin. What had looked like a lanky, weak, fur-covered man back in the meeting room turned out to be a specimen composed of only lean, powerful muscles. When Moreau shot through the finish line with a time of 15:47 seconds, Ella swiveled her head back to the other runners. Unfortunately, Sasha struggled far behind, separated from the rest of the group, finishing with a time of 31:79 seconds.
“Pathetic.” Bohdan spat out, shaking his head in disgust, while repeating the word over and over, even after Sasha returned.
“I get it, okay?” Sasha barked. “I ran slow as shit. No need to beat it over my head.”
“There are more points to be won, Sasha,” Kylara said. “There is hope for you yet.”
“Thanks.” Sasha sat on the ground, still catching her breath.
“Pathetic,” Bohdan said. “You can’t be my friend and be that out of shape. I admit I’ve neglected your fitness, so starting tomorrow, you’ll join me on my morning jogs.”
Sasha rolled her eyes but otherwise kept her mouth shut.
Ella’s name was called in the next batch, along with Bohdan and Jamal. For the past few minutes, she had been regulating her breathing, trying to calm her nerves. She clasped her hands together and expelled a nervous breath. All she had to do was run like she did on the treadmill during the superhuman assessment and she would ace this test.
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No biggie.
She dropped, placing her hands on the abrasive surface of the track, while her legs coiled on the footrest of the starting block. All other unnecessary worries were forgotten as she focused on the track ahead. A loud bang. And she leaped into motion, her legs easily providing the power she needed. The two runners to her sides quickly fell behind, the wind beating at her ears. Despite her blinding speed, at the edge of her vision, someone blurred down the track, a thunderous crack of air left in their wake. Once she passed the finish line, she gazed at the timing display. Raquel Vicente came in first with an eye-watering time of 1:34 seconds while she came in second with 15:67 seconds, only a few tenths slower than Moreau. She glanced at the speedster—who was a lean but solidly built Hispanic woman—marveling at the fact someone could break past the sound barrier with their two legs.
Bohdan and Jamal aced the test with times of 18:06 and 21:92 seconds, respectively. Still heaving from the intense race, Bohdan offered her a fist bump, an impressed glow in his eyes.
“You sure you don’t train?” Bohdan asked after she bumped fists with him. “You look like you’ve just had a stroll in the park.”
She chuckled, shrugging. Indeed, the race felt as easy as a stroll in the park. And with her first test aced so easily, all vestiges of nervousness and apprehension drained from her body. They joined the rest of the waiting superhumans to witness the last race before the break.
Kylara came in last, barely beating the set time of 27 seconds by a few tenths, before collapsing at the finish line. Even after they made it over to congratulate her, Kylara still lay flat on the ground, her mouth wide open while her chest rose up and down rhythmically. Her skin remained dry, alluding to the fact that Myrans lacked the ability to sweat through their skin. Bohdan offered to carry her to the break room, and Kylara sluggishly obliged.
However, before they left, Ella drew their attention and pointed at the jumbotron, which lit up and displayed their names on a list.
“What’s going on?” Sasha asked.
“I think it is a ranking of sorts,” Jamal said.
Conveniently, an agent standing a few yards from them heard their observation and concurred with Jamal’s statement. “It’s the ranking index we provide to superheroes already in the field to help them choose sidekicks. Of course, your choice will still matter whether or not you want a mentor.”
“Hmph.” Bohdan frowned, walking away with Kylara braced over his shoulder. “I will be no one’s sidekick.”
“How is it weighted?” Ella asked.
“An algorithm Synapse developed,” the agent said. “Takes into account various performance metrics and spits out the score you see. Keep in mind, that is the extent I know.”
She gazed up at the jumbotron, reading through the list. Raquel Vicente, the speedster, was first with a score of 25, two times the score of Luc Moreau at 12. A smile crept on her face, finding her name third in the rankings with a score of 11.
In the break room, Ella spent the next hour refreshing herself and tapping her phone. Every other person relaxed while Bohdan lectured Kylara and Sasha on how to get through the next test. His advice was that under no circumstances should they run faster than a brisk walking pace since the 1500m race only required them to finish it. Kylara nodded attentively while Sasha acted uninterested. However, Ella could tell the woman was listening.
That made her think of her strategy for the race. To complete the race, she would have to run around the 400m track three and three-quarter times. Still, she reasoned that the obvious choice was to go full tilt since her stamina seemed unlimited.
The race order and their positions matched the 200m race. So she watched as Moreau dominated the race, his stride never once slowing, to finish with a time of 1 minute, 20 seconds. Sasha struggled to finish minutes after everyone else, collapsing at the finish line. One thing Ella noted in contrast to her running ability was that Moreau achieved his top speed relatively soon after starting the race, while she needed the space to build up her speed.
So, as she assumed her position by the starting block, a confident smile spread across her face, aware that she could crush his time.
At the sound of the bang, she surged forward, employing long strides to get her up to speed. In a similar fashion to the 200m race, the crack of the sound barrier being punched through reverberated across her skin. A blur followed by a droning sound zipped past her about four times before vanishing. Raquel Vicente had already finished her race. Regardless, Ella pushed on, unfazed by the speedster’s impressive display as she left the rest of the runners in the dust.
By the time she crossed into the second lap, her speed had doubled, all the while she fell into a comfortable rhythm, breezing past the backmarkers and soon overtaking everyone again. At the corner of her eye, Bohdan jugged with his jaw slackened, in awe of her feat of speed. She shot through the finish line, glanced at the timing display, and then jumped with joy at beating Moreau by over ten seconds. Perhaps she was too animated, but she couldn’t deny her competitive spirit. As for Vicente’s time, well, some things were just unattainable.
A few minutes later, the rest of the pack—gasping and exhausted—made it to the finish line. Bohdan came in third, snatched a bottle of water from an agent, and doused his head with the water.
“Woo-hoo!” Bohdan tensed his body with his arms low, his veins popping and muscles more defined than ever. “That’s how you do fucking it! Six points in the bag.” Then he bounced up to her and gave her a fist bump that would’ve obliterated any other superhuman.
Once the final race concluded, Bohdan went to retrieve a passed-out Kylara, while Ella looked up at the jumbotron. As she expected, Raquel Vicente had almost tripled her points. Nevertheless, she smiled ear to ear for eclipsing Moreau by one point.
Synapse congratulated them on getting through the first hurdle, but the woman’s mechanical demeanor convinced Ella the sentiment was artificial. Regardless, the upcoming agenda was revealed and a two-hour lunch break was awarded to them. Afterward, they would move on to the strength test. Bohdan had on a predator’s glare at the prospect of displaying his strength. With the opposite reaction, Sasha groaned from exhaustion.
Before leaving, Ella spotted robots with many articulating arms that moved on tracks and wheels, ripping off the blue track they had just run on and placing the tiles into other storage robots. It would seem they were preparing the room for the next test.