“Holy shit, Kane!” Cale shouted as he changed out of his black suit. “He asked your name!”

“Ya think that got us a slot in the Ares division?” Bracken asked, his eyes darting, searching for answers.

“If the Ares division is about falling on our asses a lot, then I’d say yes,” Rasheara remarked. She glanced around before muttering under her breath. “I hope we did…”

“I believe we did marvelous. Did you see that man sweat?” Carena asked.

Abel glanced around at his friends, smiling at their perceived success. Yet, as his gaze shifted toward Kane, his eyes grew soft. That smile had returned. That same wicked smile. Kane had the qualities of a leader. After all, no one ever argued with him once he gave out orders. His pride shone brightly, and they welcomed it. But Abel couldn’t help but question it all now. That smile. No friend would smile in such a way. But if Kane couldn’t lead them, who would? Who would call the shots? Who would hold that gun?

Abel flushed the thought from his brain and finished changing. After stuffing their suits back into their lockers, all of them marched over to the mess hall, their spirits high and their egos joining in on the fun. As soon as they entered, Abel could sense the eyes on their backs. Eyes of infatuation. Eyes of curiosity. Eyes of jealousy. Still, they got in line.

“Word spreads fast. It looks like we’re already the talk of the trainee division,” Cale said as he grabbed a slab of ribs from a tin. He drooled as the meat fell apart against his plate. “We never get food like this.”

“Don’t let it get to your head. Last thing we need is a colossal ego in the future Ares division,” Bracken said. The mac and cheese slapped against his tray.

“You’re literally blushing right now, and you want to tell me about an ego?” Cale said, flicking a piece of meat toward Bracken’s forehead.

Abel only grabbed the broccoli. His stomach still pounded with anxiety. After getting food, they all made their way toward their large table at the back of the cafeteria. This would be their last week here before moving out into their own places. Abel smiled as the memories flooded in. Memories of Cale slipping and spilling his beans all over Rasheara’s lap. Memories of Carena not understanding what the word fuck meant and Bracken making her scream it at the top of her lungs because he said it meant, “pleased to meet you all!” Memories of Kane buying each of them their own coffee mugs so they could go get coffee with him and Salene one day after they graduated. Abel’s had, “I have anxiety, please talk slowly” pasted onto it. He still laughed every time he looked at it.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“So, what’s next on the eval list?” Cale asked.

“I’m pretty sure it’s just fitness assessments after this,” Rasheara responded through the chewing of her steak. She liked hers well done.

“Wait, so you’re telling me not everyone else has to do their Prime Eval first?” Cale picked at his mac and cheese and stared dumbfounded at Rasheara. “That seems kinda unfair to us. We didn’t even get to warm-up physically or mentally.”

“They did it so you that you may precisely understand how battles really work. There will be some that you may or may not be ready for in the future as well,” Carena said as she picked the olives out of her salad. She hadn’t eaten meat in a while. The last time she did, she threw up on Cale.

“She’s right,” Kane said. “We wouldn’t have known anyway what day we would have had our Prime Eval this week. It would have just happened when it happened.” He had already finished his meal.

“Do you think that was fair, Abel?” Cale asked. The entire table turned to look at him.

“I don’t mind either way,” Abel said. “I’m just glad it was with you guys.” His cheeks warmed as he rested his head on the table. They all stared at him with blushes across their faces until Rasheara cut through the silence by slurping up her green beans.

“That was cheesy as hell, Abel,” she said, despite the red across her face.

Suddenly, the lunchroom morphed into a whisper. “Holy shit,” Rasheara said, finishing her green beans. “What’s he doing here?” Abel poked his head up and took in the sight before him. A tall man walked through the cafeteria. His white hair ran down to his neck as his glasses wove their way between its fibers. His face lacked emotion, but his light blue eyes pierced the room. He walked through with several officers in tow, each of them looking like a dog ready for a walk. His large, black coat contrasted starkly with the white coats of the other members of the High Nine, and his walk had honor to it.

“Zoram Allan,” Kane whispered. He stared in awe. Zoram’s gaze shifted. He stared at Kane. Silence fell across the lunchroom. Then, as quickly as he had entered, he left.

“Oh. Fuck. Kane,” Cale said. “First Ares and now you caught the attention of him? The god become man himself, Zoram fucking Allan?” Stories of Zoram echoed amongst the recruits. He didn’t have the raw strength of a god like Ares, but he could take down a god like Ares without breaking a sweat. He was the only human that could rival the strength of the gods. Most insane of all, he had never lost a fight.

Abel glanced at Kane. Kane gazed at the floor below, attempting not to show his excitement, but one thing shone clearly: that smile.

What a pitiful smile.