Though many of the stations had been removed from the building, in Demund’s eyes, the space seemed to be even more crowded than the days before, buzzing with bodies eager to take a look at the top participants of the Junior’s Advancement. It didn’t make things better for Demund, because now he realized that he had severe stage fright.
He was saving his circulation for when he would get up on stage, and he’d used a little too much yesterday, making him more exhausted than usual. Combined with extreme nervousness, his stomach felt clenched, his skin felt cold, and his heart felt like it would crawl up his throat, clogging his breathing pipes. Perhaps this was the problem of circulating too much; when he wasn’t, his weaknesses felt that much more severe.
Calm down, Demund, he told himself. He’d done presentations in front of the class before. Those had been simple enough. He’d presented his project in front of his school’s judges and ran a relay race while the whole school had been watching. This would be similar.
Countless large cameras were stationed in front of the podium, all focused on the current presenter. This was a nervous one, much like himself. Demund could feel the slight shaking in his voice every few couple of words, and the silence was dreadful when the guy accidentally dropped his remote.
Now, some were confident—extroverts without fear. They were the ones whom Demund wanted to present like. He didn’t think the judges would care, but this was something that would be left online for the rest of his life. He wanted to look good.
He looked to the side. Enariss had prepared herself, and it wasn’t just the project. Her hair was combed back, beautiful braids entwined into her long, silky hair. She was like a lady, and her simple but elegant dress suited her and the occasion magnificently. She looked like a real genius, complete with amber eyes and an undefeatable smile.
Demund hadn’t thought that through. He wore a plain buttoned shirt with black pants. It was formal enough, but it wasn’t catchy. Not as much as Enariss. She looked like she’d come to win, not to participate.
It was the same with Edan, though he had gone all out on the fancy aspect. Expensive clothing surrounded him along with a shiny watch—he was a walking prestige shop. His hair looked like it had been done in a shop. According to the guy, a good hair spray and some cream would do the trick. The guy was good with his hands.
Demund ran his fingers down his semi-curly hair. He’d simply taken a shower and left it to dry. It wasn’t as if this was a final round. The participants would be eliminated two more times before the winner was announced. Though being next to the two, he felt as if he should have prepared better.
After the current group of students that was presenting, their school would be next. The presenting orders had been Edan, him, then Enariss—the teachers had decided on that. They’d start with something fun, get into the mysterious, and end off with the mind-boggling. Demund was very glad he was in the middle. There was no pressure of beginning well, nor the pressure of ending perfectly. Would he be mediocre, then? No; if he did well, he’d give as much impact as the other two.
“You look like you’re about to vomit,” Enariss examined. “I’ve never seen you this unsettled before.”
“I’ve never done something of this size in my life,” Demund replied, taking a sip of water from his bottle. “How come you’re so composed?”
“If you think of the crowd as the zoo, it’s not that hard,” Enariss shrugged. “Don’t think of them as people. Think of them as your pet cats, dogs, lions, and monkeys.”
“Does that work?”
“It does.”
Truthfully, once he began circulating, he wouldn’t have any problems. But he gave what Enariss told him a try.
“It doesn’t work for me,” Demund sighed.
“You need to believe it,” Enariss corrected. “But that’s okay. When you’re presenting, focus on me, okay? You won’t be nervous presenting in front of me, will you?”
“Nope.”
“Then look at me when you’re up there.”
Demund nodded. “I'll try.”
They had already moved to the front, and Edan was walking upstage now. Demund’s heart beat faster as he realized that he’d be up there in a matter of minutes. Edan began his presentation, and his face appeared on the screen, broadcasted to the whole world.
His project was simple—making robots from household tools and spare parts. It was something anyone could search up online. It was a simple idea, one that he knew wouldn’t take the grand prize. But it was clearly understandable, and each of his sentences was like a well-oiled motor, sliding from one part to the next.
It was fun. The tired faces of the crowd from before had lightened up, especially among the younger audience. Edan was a performer, and a great one. But for Demund, time passed all too quickly, and when the upperclassmen finished, he was shaking in his bones, wondering if his presentation would be as fun as the previous one.
“Whew.”
Demund breathed in and out, willing his mana to flow through his body, going around and around and around…
His vision cleared, and his stomach loosened. The throb in his head was gone, replaced with icy clarity. His fingers had stopped trembling and the air that had felt like daggers on his skin was warm and comforting—he shook his body once. An unintentional grin spread to his lips, and he looked up, watching Edan walk down the stairs.
“Go get them,” Edan smiled, offering him a high-five.
Demund was surprised by the offer, but he smiled and slapped his hand against Edan’s.
“Thanks,” he replied.
Perhaps the guy had taken a liking to him, though they hadn’t talked much. Demund decided to think about it later.
Each step upwards onto the stage felt light, and he held his head up with confidence, his sentences formulating in his mind. His project had already come up on the screen, and he took the remote from the podium, making it comfortable in his hand. They’d practiced before in their rooms.
Demund cleared his throat before he put his mouth in front of the microphone. On top of the podium, everyone’s faces looked small and dark, outshined by the stage lights, and he felt vulnerable—but he was beyond that. With a silent breath, he began.
“Superpowers. They’d changed the world in the past century, shaping our government, culture, and entertainment,” Demund began. “It’s fun to talk about superpowers. Everyone wants to be a hero in their story, though most of us aren’t blessed with the powers we dream of.”
The expectant faces were starting to fade one by one, predominantly among the adults. Demund ignored them, glancing at Enariss face. She glowed like an ember in the dark.
“But what makes superpowers?” Demund continued, going on to the next slide. “In a world where more than half of the population have supernatural abilities, it shocked me that studies on such matters were very hard, if not impossible to find. And studies that were available were always on individual powers, not on powers as a whole. I wanted to discover the essence of what made powers real, on the particles that made them work.”
He made very sure to avoid talking about anything questioning the Preliminary Islands or the like. It had been included in his initial presentation, but Ms. Clarn had advised him to take it out, just in case. Demund hadn’t questioned her—she was someone, he’d learned, who’d been educated at the Islands.
“We know them as SAP—or Supernatural Acclimatization Particles,” Demund said. “While they are the driving force of powers, there is no informational guide available on them. Our schools help us learn about them safely, and the Preliminary Islands act as the guide for the gifted, but I wanted to know more. My powers were mediocre, and I wanted more.”
An image of his brain was displayed on screen—the one before the accident. He didn’t want to explain his powers to everyone, so he’d decided on a more logical, shocking approach.
“Luck had it that I got into an accident with a car,” he said. “It took my right leg away from me, as well as a good portion of my head.”
He heard murmurs in the audience after the image of his head damage was displayed. He’d have to apologize to Ms. Clarn afterwards, since he’d told her he’d take it out. But he needed to be gripping to win.
“It was a miracle that I survived, as the doctors put it,” Demund went on, pressing the remote. A full picture of his recovered brain was displayed, and another click of the button showed the before and after images side-by-side.
“As you can see, my brain underwent some changes after the incident. But without it, I wouldn’t have been able to be here. While the first few moments were filled with misfortune, I quickly found out that this was a blessing in disguise. I learned how to control SAP, and with this newfound ability, I conducted the experiments that you will now see.”
He wasn’t exactly lying, and he could tell the people were invested now. It gave him confidence, though he made sure not to overuse his mana.
“It all began with a simple algae experiment. Though I could feel a certain sensation running through me, I wasn’t sure what to do with it. So I wondered what would happen if I were to apply this newfound energy to other things. Objects were not affected, but living things were. Among the first was algae.”
The photos he’d taken were displayed as well as the steps he’d taken. Demund took a peek at his script, then raised his head to continue.
“The algae that had SAP injected into them multiplied faster and were stronger than the algae that were not, more resistant to electric shocks and removal from sunlight. Then one day, I discovered that the algae had become saturated with SAP, and the byproduct of such saturation was heat.”
The numbers of his experiments were in the presentation; it would be a waste of time to read them all out. He had to be quick—time was running out.
“Much like the SAP detectors we are all provided before the Selection, the algae acted similarly. The more SAP it was provided, the more heat it produced. Some comparisons were done with people’s official rankings. The list you see is the heat energy that was produced by measuring the temperature increase in the aluminium ball according to a person’s rank.”
Demund wasn’t sure how exactly SAP detectors worked because he’d been able to boost his ‘rating’ up to an A with the algae detector, though the rest of the day had been painfully exhausting. He wanted to find out someday.
“This was the beginning of my experiments. I moved onto larger creatures—mice. And here, I discovered something amazing.”
Another series of murmurs rose after he displayed an image of him doing a dissection on a mouse. He knew this was allowed. Other biology-related projects had displayed real human hearts.
“Contrary to algae, and most likely because they are bigger, mice reacted differently to SAP. Instead of releasing excess energy as heat, they stored it in their bodies. When killed, this energy materialized as small crystals in their bodies. These crystals, I discovered, could be used as energy for further experiments, though making one takes a very long time.”
He put his jar of three rice-sized crystals on the podium. He was reaching his conclusion soon.
“You may be wondering—what if all of this was part of my power and not an experiment on SAP itself? Perhaps it is, but this much is true: it has brought me closer to understanding SAP. Powers seemingly gain their energy from nowhere. But with this—”
He took out a single crystal and put it between his fingers so that everyone could see.”
“—it can be explained. When this crystal is used as an energy supply, it leaves behind no waste. It seemingly turns into nothing, though an outcome has been made. This crystal is pure SAP. Now, that doesn’t mean that crystals form in all living things. Please don’t go butchering your animals.”
There was little laughter, and Demund gave himself an imaginary slap and went on. “Simply, I could turn the SAP in animals into crystals by controlling it. Similarly, I began to learn new ways of using this SAP. Not as fuel, but as superpowers themselves. Or as I like to call it—magic.”
After going to the next slide, he put up his finger. A flame formed on it.
“This is not a part of my power,” he explained. “This is something I learned to do over countless trials of experimentation. I had an evaluation of a D+, but I can use magic because I learned how to. I realized that powers are not absolute; no, they can be created.”
He put out the fire and changed it into light. When he summoned water, he felt like the life had been sucked out of him, but he was at the finish line.
“So far, it’s only the small things I can create,” he told the audience. “It would be impossible to recreate someone else’s power now. But I believe that someday, if enough research is done on controlling SAP, a world where everyone would be able to use magic is possible. SAP is like the ones and zeros in a computer. So far, there is no language to make its use easier, but when it is established, we will be able to program things we could only imagine. Teleportation, flight, telekinesis, shooting fireballs—everything is possible.”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Demund took a deep breath. “Superpowers have been a mystery, but they don’t have to be. They can be understood, if not replicated. Perhaps in the future, everyone will be able to use the power they want—or, the magic they want. Thank you for listening.”
Demund stepped away from the microphone. Time had run out, and there were more things he’d liked to have said, but it was over now. The silence was dreadful, and each second he began to leave the stage was like a hammer beating into his head. No; that was his blood throbbing, He’d used too much mana.
It began to rain—a thousand droplets that created a storm. Demund was too dizzy to recognize what it was. The sound was like background noise, distant and annoying. Why did it have to rain now?
Had his presentation been okay? Now that he wasn’t circulating, the doubts he’d suppressed were flooding back in. Perhaps it would have been better to explain his dream power. Getting powers after an accident? What a joke. They’d brush it off as another superpower, and his countless hours of work would go down the drain.
The rain wasn’t stopping. Resisting the urge to vomit, Demund turned his head around. His eyes widened when they met the audience.
Oh.
It was the sound of applause.
He managed to reach the bottom, and Enariss caught him before he stumbled over.
“You did great,” she whispered.
“Sorry,” Demund muttered. He straightened himself, enduring the pain. “Good luck. You can do it.”
She smiled. Demund watched as she gracefully ascended the stairs, presenting herself before the podium. Mr. Hothman and Ms. Clarn were over him, wiping his face with a towel while giving him some water to drink.
“You look ill,” she examined, placing her hand on his back. “Are you okay?”
“I used t-too much SAP,” Demund muttered, gulping down some water.
“You have power exhaustion,” she said. “Rest and you’ll be okay. You were amazing up there.”
Demund nodded. He knew that better than anyone. But he couldn’t faint now. He had to watch Enariss present.
She stood before the crowd, not a hint of anxiety in her expression. When her presentation came up, Demund thought he was watching an introduction to a movie. The colors subtly formed into shapes and words, transforming into the title, ‘Luminetics’.
“I bring to you,” she began, “the future of programming.”
Only then did Demund realize the scope of Enariss’s impossible project.
“After decades of studying electrical signals within neurons, it has become possible to recreate those signals to a 93% rate of accuracy,” Enariss said. “It still rises exponentially. What I have brought to you today is the incorporation of man and machine through electro-translumin fibers. These go directly into the nerves, and because they move information through light, they do not interfere with neural pathways. Through a translator, it is now possible to detect and record every signal in the body, given that the electro-translumin fibers are incorporated properly.”
As she continued on with her presentation and words he could barely comprehend came up in the form of animated slides, Demund couldn’t believe she’d managed to accomplish this within the months they’d been given. The only explanation was that she’d begun preparing long before this year’s Junior’s Advancement. But how? They were only about halfway through high school, and she was doing things he’d expected after college.
He stared in awe. Enariss seemed to understand her project completely. Starting from concepts, trials, human testing, and a step towards perfect robotic limbs through the data earned through her fibers, she concluded with a brief summary, thanking everyone who had assisted her and the journal that had accepted her research paper. When she came down, it was as if everyone knew who the winner would be; applause like no other thundered throughout the building. Demund clapped as well, greeting her as she came down...but it felt as if the distance between them had grown.
She didn’t say anything to him when she came down.
She simply smiled.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“I wasn’t planning on competing this year,” Enariss revealed. “I didn’t know you would be competing as well. Tough luck, Dem-Dem. You’ll still get recognition.”
“Maybe if you’d told me beforehand, I wouldn’t be so crestfallen,” Demund sighed.
“I think I did.”
“A whole company, backing you up. Let me guess—you’ve been attending labs since when you were young.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Normal studies are pretty boring.”
“You could go to college. Why did you decide to stay in high school?”
“I want to enjoy my youth.”
Demund didn’t want to feel envious. To think that he’d thought he’d had a chance to win against her. They’d both passed the second-to-last evaluation and now were waiting to compete for first place along with three other participants from around the globe—but even then, Demund could feel the difference between Enariss and the rest of them. It was painfully obvious.
“Your project was good,” Enariss told him. “If someone manages to create this ‘magic language,’ it could change the world.”
“Highly unlikely,” Demund sighed. “Maybe in a few hundred years, unless a super-genius with an affinity with SAP control emerges. Yours already has produced results.”
They were walking again, though it was earlier this time. Now that their presentations were done, all they had to wait for were the evaluations. Popularity didn’t matter anymore; they would be scored based on experts’ opinions. The project most likely to change the world—that would be the final winner.
Demund had a tiny, tiny hope that maybe, he’d take the grand prize. Theoretically, his would be the greatest finding of them all. But laid side-by-side with Enariss’s research, his amateurism was blatant. All he could hope was for the judges to choose him since he had done it alone and Enariss had received numerous helping hands.
The other projects had been too specialized. Interesting, but not world-changing. Besides their fields, they wouldn’t be that useful—at least, that’s how Demund saw it. He doubted he would lose to any of them.
“Maybe you could have won if you participated next year,” Enariss said.
“Maybe.”
“You could try again.”
“I’ll have to find another topic.”
He doubted he could.
“What are you planning to do once you win?” Demund asked. “The school gets a donation, you get a full scholarship and endless opportunities, as well as a trip to the Islands.”
“I just wanted my ticket,” Enariss replied, brushing her hair to the side. “The others won’t do much.”
It hurt Demund to hear that from the one that had everything.
“You probably could have gone to the Islands without it.”
“Yes, but the timing was important. It’s now or never.”
Demund gripped his fist. It wasn’t like second place—if he got it—was bad. He’d get a large scholarship as well, though not full, and numerous opportunities would await him. Though it wouldn’t give him a trip to the Islands.
He wondered, why? She hadn’t gone to the Islands in the first place despite having a high-ranking ability. Then again, if she had gone, he’d never have gotten to meet her.
“I hope you win,” Demund said from the bottom of his heart. “If you don’t win, I’ll feel horrible.”
She stared at him. Then she grinned, punching him on the shoulder.
“Worry about yourself,” she said. “If I go to the Islands, I won’t be in school for a while.”
“You’ll leave right away?”
“The sooner, the better.”
After touring the World Memorial Center, snow crunching underneath their feet, they returned to prepare for the next and final day. It had been a slow, but instant six days of adventure. Demund was glad that he’d joined, even if he didn’t win.
He’d miss his chance to see the Islands, and to see Jothan again, he’d have to wait until they graduated and Jothan came back. Earning a job at the Islands would be like shooting for the stars if he wanted to go there.
It was a pity that there was no tourism on the Preliminary Islands. There was a reason why the Selection was such a big deal. Those who went were chosen, being guaranteed a good future. Jothan had been picked—he had not.
Now, his last opportunity would be taken away from him.
“Hey, come here for a second.”
Demund hadn’t expected Edan to call him, bringing him to his room. After making Demund stand in front of the mirror, the older guy opened the closet, revealing an assortment of formal clothes and pants, complete with boots.
“You have to be dressed well if you’re going to represent our school,” Edan sighed. “I won’t have you going out looking like...that.”
“Oh. Am I allowed to wear this?”
“They’re all mine. I wasn’t going to wear them anyway.”
Demund wanted to ask, ‘why bring them then,’ but he resisted, nodding instead. The guy looked over his body, took out a few sets, then put them in front of Demund, comparing them.
“What do you like?” he asked. “I don’t think your face is good with formal clothing. Casual suits you better.”
“You probably know better than me,” Demund said sheepishly. Honestly, they all looked great. Expensive attire felt different.
“It’s good that you have some muscles on you,” Edan observed, patting the clothes down. “Hey, this one fits nicely. I was going to throw it away because it was getting smaller, but you can have it.”
“Really?” Demund’s jaw dropped. “Are you sure? This can’t be cheap.”
“Eh. I can’t sell it, can I?”
Demund looked in the mirror, dumbfounded by the guy’s generosity. Had they become that close? Every single article of clothing on his body looked as good as new, labeled meticulously with their respective, pricey brand logos. The shirt that wasn’t quite a turtleneck, the dark coat that fit him perfectly, and the pants that felt like fine silk on his legs, thick enough to keep the cold out.
“I don’t think you’ll need a belt,” Edan observed, “but I can lend you one if you want it.”
“I have one,” Demund replied, admiring the clothing. “Are you sure I can have this? For free?”
“Then—think of it as a show of friendship. I was impressed by you, Demund. I hope we can continue to see each other in school.”
“Of course. I’d love to.”
“When you wake up tomorrow, take a shower, dry your hair, put on your clothes, and come to me. I can do your hair a little. You’ll have to be at your best.”
Demund could only nod. He’d earned another friend—this time, an upperclassman. A generous upperclassman. He wasn’t necessarily comparing, but it was far more than what his friends had given him.
He went to bed after hanging his new clothes carefully. Tomorrow would be a big day. The whole world would be watching them, and they would get their names on magazines and even on television, labeled as the leaders of the future. Perhaps that would lessen the little aggravations he’d suffered in school.
If only he could win.
When he woke up in the other world, he shook off his insecurities.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“What do you wish to do with your project?” the interviewer asked as the cameras focused on him. Demund’s head spun, but he managed to answer properly.
“I’d like a world where everyone could use powers,” he said, “or magic as I’d put it. It sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does,” the interviewer nodded. “I dreamed of flying when I was a child. Do you think that will be possible someday?”
“Not in the near future. But who knows? People who can fly already exist, and if we can replicate their powers, everyone could.”
“Since the time superpowers have manifested in our world, many people have failed in their attempts to recreate them. Do you think your research could make it possible?”
Demund shrugged. “Maybe. It might take a few decades or centuries, but I think it will be possible.”
He hadn’t thought of his project as becoming that big. Recreating superpowers—if it became possible, the world would change. Currently, that was like telling him to draw someone to photographic perfection using only his pencil. Bluntly, impossible.
The interviewer moved on to the other participants. He didn’t know how everyone was managing to look so confident. They were likely juniors or seniors since people as young as them didn’t make it to the top five.
Enariss talked like a protagonist—confident, witty, and fun to listen to. Her voice was like a melody, and she was sure to be a popular search topic for months, maybe years to come. A celebrity had been born, one that had the looks of an actress and the mind of a genius.
If he was lucky, maybe people would take notice of him too. The post he’d uploaded had gotten a lot more comments, though Enariss had more followers than he had comments.
Right. He’d forgotten that Enariss was already like a celebrity. She was the daughter of Sandor Zarke, who, according to search results, was akin to the cofounder of Delita, the company that created all sorts of machines, known for their cars. He’d always marveled at Enariss’s house, but she’d been living on the humble side. Her father was a major philanthropist, so maybe that was why.
The more he learned about her, the more the gap between them seemed to widen. He put on a confident smile.
For now, they were on the same stage. And he’d continue to try to stay by her side. His goal of catching up to Jothan might have transferred onto Enariss, mixed with feelings of infatuation.
“Your school must be very proud that two of their students have made it to the final round,” the interviewer commented. “What do you think made this possible?”
“Iron sharpens iron,” Enariss replied. “I’m sure we motivated each other to try our best.”
“Is that so? Are you two friends, or did you recently get to know each other?”
“We’re close friends,” Enariss smiled. She looked at him, as did the interviewer.
“She knew me before my accident,” Demund added. “Actually, she was—”
He stopped as he realized what he was about to say. Was he out of his mind? Telling the world that the accident was related to her? He’d meant to praise her, but they were in front of millions and millions.
“She was?”
“She helped me through school,” he ended, the blood rushing into his face. He hoped that it wouldn’t show. “Then again, she helps everyone.”
“How wonderful. It’s great to see motivation through friendship,” the interviewer smiled.
A few more questions were asked to the participants, most of them related to their dreams for the future and what careers they planned to pursue. Demund was the only one who’d said ‘still deciding’; all the others seemed to have certain goals in mind. Even Enariss—she wanted to become a doctor to help others in need. An ideal response, though it was the first time he’d heard her mention it.
“And now, it is time to announce the winners,” the speaker began as the lights on the stage dimmed. The participants stood in a row, waiting for the lights to fall on them.
Please, please, please…
Demund could only pray.
“The Minor Advancement Award goes to—Betty Gilkins! Her experimental findings on D. Amaris bacteria have...
Demund held in a sigh. Second place sounded good. He clapped in anticipation while the girl was awarded her trophy as well as a certificate and other gifts.
“The Major Advancement Award goes to—Natapur Hanashav!”
He blinked.
What?
He felt his heart go into freefall.
“The Junior’s Advancement Award goes to none other than—Enariss Zarke! For her pioneering efforts in Luminetics, an unexplored area of science…”
The rest of the words failed to reach Demund’s ears. His body felt numb, and he barely felt his arms moving, clapping in response to Enariss receiving her prize.
He...hadn’t even been in second place? Or third?
That didn’t make sense. So many people—they’d told him that his project was revolutionary. Unlike the second and third place winners, his ideas had been completely original for this world. A new concept, capable of changing the world for good…
He didn’t understand.
His thoughts were unheard, drowned out by the deafening applause of everyone who didn’t care for the details.