By the time I finally managed to get my shit together and figure out where and what I was to be doing on this specific day, I was insanely late.

My phone was getting blown up by Elenor, the woman repeatedly asking where I was.

She and I were partners at this point, the two of us specializing in a few different things that the government had us work on at different intervals. Today, we were grading powers.

I showed up very clearly disheveled and exhausted. The administrator who ran the place glared at me pretty hard, and Elenor seemed just as confused.

Her hands moved pretty much as soon as she saw me. “Have you been partying without me?”

I groaned, realizing that being hungover probably made more sense than anything else. I lifted my hand in a fist and motioned my wrist down. Yes, in her language.

Ellenor was mute if you hadn’t picked up on that. I learned sign language for about a year once she was my partner. “Lame, invite me next time.”

I lifted my hand and pinched my fingers. No.

She rolled her eyes. “You can just speak.”

I used the most universal sign language gesture that almost everyone understood involving my middle finger. She just huffed and moved on, getting the information on who and what we would be doing for the day from the administrator.

Now, I like to think of myself as a generally intelligent person, and I think most of the time I’m more than capable of putting things together. Five other people were tethers keeping time from ripping, there were five people at the end of the world. I can add two to two and get four.

She instantly made me doubt that conclusion though. The way that I, or rather the things from the other existence reversed time, I effectively wrapped it in on itself, turning things more like a circle than a straight line. I need a relative present to be able to move things backward against, a timeline makes the most sense. If everything has a timeline, then I can disrupt just one and move it back. I effectively did the opposite, I froze 6 timelines, and moved everything else in reality backward, if I didn’t have those tethers, I’d have no way to hold myself steady and hit the right time and place. If that’s too complicated, just think Ororoborous. I’m feeding the snake eating its tail. All of which to say, the five logically should also remember everything.

Including myself putting a bullet in their foreheads.

Still, where I was a total wreck who could barely walk straight right now, Elenor seemed totally normal, just as I remembered her. She looked confused at how fucked up I was, and a little concerned. Not traits I would associate with someone I technically killed about 3 hours ago.

All things considered, I didn’t know enough about what actually happened to time to conclude if the five from the end of the world were the same five I pulled back. It could’ve been anyone.

Equally possible, however, was that every other member of the five thought they were the only ones in the past and were now acting accordingly.

We got ushered into a small room that had a large window in it, the other side containing a padded room that I’d imagine they keep crazy people in. The door was opened and an anxious-looking teenager walked inside. Granted, a teenager that was visibly very strong looking, wide-shouldered, and tall with clear definitions on his arms.

He looked at the window and visibly tried to steel himself. “My name is Axel I’m 18, and my power has to do with fire.” He stuck his hand out, and a flame puffed out before turning to smoke.

I think I actually remembered this. He was a younger guy who talked about his-

“I’m a D1 Wide Receiver. Um, I’d like to opt out of military service if possible.”

About his goals. I pressed a button and leaned into a small microphone. “Opting out will be possible if your abilities are ranked C or lower. Testing has not concluded yet.” I looked down at my little notebook for ranking people that had been set up next to the microphone. I took my finger off the button and muttered to myself as I skimmed through it. “If dealing with the ability to emit something…Whatever.” I pressed the button to speak. “Please emit as hot a flame as you possibly can.” He cupped his hands together and let out a deep breath, a very small flame pushing up out of his hands, about the size of a match, though the flames were burning blue.

I noted it down and spoke again. “Thank you. Now emit as much flame as you can in one burst.” He glanced around at the padded material, and I spoke again before he could question it. “The room is specially treated, you’d need to be S rank or higher to break through it, and if that happens then you’ll have bigger issues than an on-fire room.”

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He nodded, and stuck his hands out, fire coming out in a flamethrower. It was visibly cooler, but a wave of heat still hit us. I clicked my tongue. He was the worst possible thing. Between C and B. Most people were C’s, a few were F’s, fewer were B’s even fewer were A’s, and a quantity of people in the single digits were S. The rankings were largely arbitrary and decided here and now. In general terms though, F was useless in combat, C was worse than a gun, B was better or equivalent to firearms, A was something like a missile or tank, and S was humanity's replacement for nuclear weapons.

My finger came off the microphone button, and I looked at both of the people in the room. “Raw power is straddling the line between B and C what are we thinking?”

The administrator whose name I think I should know let out a sigh. “We need more B ranks. The higher-ups think you two are too lenient as is.”

Eleanor shook her head and then signed. “No. He’s got a dream. Fire isn’t very useful.”

I think in the past I agreed with her, or hell, I probably was the one to say that he should’ve been ranked C and left to do his own thing.

But I didn’t realize all of us only had 5 years left to live.

I wonder how Axle died? Untrained, unprepared for his coming death. I wonder if more people would’ve lasted longer if he had been a trained fighter like us.

“I think he’s a B.”

Eleanor shot me a surprised look, and even the administrator tilted her head slightly to the side and fixed her glasses. “Oh! Well, in that case-”

Eleanor waved her hands before signing rapidly. The administrator looked to me instead, normally I would’ve translated, but I was too tired to bother right now. “No, fire isn’t nearly as good as a gun.”

“Depends on the circumstance and what the root of his power is. It could be something stronger.”

“Could be isn’t a good enough reason to sign his life into mandatory military service.”

“Alright, what's a weak root that would allow someone to control fire?”

She frowned thinking for a few seconds, while the administrator stood confused. Finally, her hands moved, and she pantomimed flicking a lighter. In all honesty, the gesture could’ve been a lot of things, but I had gotten very very good at playing charades with her over time.

“He shot it out in a fireball.”

“It could be a lighter.

“I don’t think lighters are even a valid root. It would be something like heat or temperature.”

Roots were the source of people's powers, the base of base forms of them. Mine was time for instance, and Elenor’s was space. It was part of what's called the checklist, or the pieces of information you need to know about someone's power before it’s weakened.

I’ll use myself as an example.

What's the root of the person's power? For me it’s time.

How do they manipulate the root? I can move objects back to their individual timelines without affecting the main one.

And finally, where do they control the power from? For me, it’s my fingertips. I need my fingers to be on something to move it.

If you figure all of these things out about someone else's power, then it gets significantly weaker each other individual who knows increases the reduction. Why? No one really knows, ironically. I’m guessing it has something to do with the origin of our powers, which I think has something to do with the things I saw at the end of the world, but the more I think about those things the worse I feel.

I looked back at the kid behind the window, who was looking anxiously in our direction, but turned away when he saw that I was looking. What's the old saying? Planning to fail is failure to plan. If I was making a decision now based on what would happen if I failed, what was even the point of doing the things I had done to get here?

I took a long moment just to look at him, and to think about what the hell I was really doing here. In the past. “...Na, you’re right. What he’s shown isn’t close to enough to qualify him for B.”

The administrator let out a sigh, as it seemed like I lost the argument. “He very clearly is holding back. He’s plainly stated that he doesn’t want to be drafted.”“You’re accusing him of lying during a power eval, that’s a felony offense with a possible jail time of fifteen years.”She just pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Every single person who doesn’t want to serve does it.”

It was my turn to sigh. “Unless you can prove that, I'm initiating a vote, in favor of C rank eval, say or sign affirmative. Affirmative.”

Elenor lifted her fist up and then motioned it down, yes. Before then holding her hand up in a C shape, while sticking her tongue out at the administrator like a child. Not the best look for us, but whatever.

The administrator closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, little bits of ash starting to flake off of her shoulders from some kind of power effect. “You show up here hungover and act like this?”

“Yeah. Those in favor sign or speak in negative.”

“Negative.”

“Overruled by majority.” I turned away from the fuming woman, pressing the button to speak and leaning towards the mic. “Axle, official power eval has concluded, your official rank is C, you can opt out of military service without punishment, speak to a recruiter that's been working with you, or turn in the necessary paperwork to this office within a hundred days. We can end eval now or you can get a numerical grade as well.”

The boy let out a big and relieved sigh, eyes closed as he did so, hand on his chest. He shook his head. “No, I think I’m good. I’d pretty much just be a 3 anyway right?”

“Officially, I can’t say. Unofficially? Yeah pretty much.”

The numerical code was an indication of the level of control you had over the world around you in relation to your power. It went from 1 to 7, each step up another degree of control. 1 means you can only affect yourself. 2 means yourself and the clothes you’re wearing. 3 means yourself and things within a specific distance. 4 means yourself and anything you can see. 5 means all prior and things you can't see within a distance. 6 means all prior and things you can’t see without any distance limit, but containing some other limiter. 7 means all things, no limit.

Either being high is typically enough to make you significantly strong. Elenor is only a C herself but is a C5. I’d be something like a B3, but a S7 at the peak of reversing the entire world.

The administrator sideyed me. “Unprofessional.”

“Yup. Do we have anything else to do today?”“Yes, we have three more evals to get through, then you’ll speak to your KIAll.”

I stretched my back out, groaning. “Alright, send the next one on in then, let's get this done.”

Elenor glanced at the administrator, before signing to me. “Thanks for having my back.”

I signed back in return to keep her out of the conversation. “No problem. It’s our job to ensure he won’t have to fight after all.”

“Corny.”

I flipped her off again.

This was nice, I missed these days.