As soon as I woke up, I rushed through my morning routine and began practicing the basics of Penelope’s Dance. Instead of war scythe to assist me, I had the privilege of using an old broomstick. I cleared my living room of all obstacles and began. I moved my feet first, pivoting, turning on the heels of my feet, and spinning. I think it would’ve been much harder prior to my awakening, but after I had been “restructured” it felt fairly easy on. At least, to do it at a slower pace. I was nowhere close to Penelope who kept a continuous flow. I had to stop every few steps and reset my position whereas she seemed to be able to move in any direction without pause.

After an hour of what would probably look like a shirtless man dancing with a broom, I began to rotate the broomstick. I started slow but that didn’t stop me from dropping it onto the ground or tripping over my feet. I wasn’t discouraged at all though, I had only started an hour of practice and I felt pretty good about it.

I recalled Penelope using a one-handed technique to swing the war scythe a few times and I tried to recreate it but a few attempts let me know it was still too complicated to work on just yet. So, for the most part, I focused on the fundamentals.

Step, pivot, twist, spin, et cetera. Once I had a feel for the rhythm it was easy to memorize. I closed my eyes and compared myself to Penelope for reference. Based on the description of the Death Bringer path and the nature of Penelope’s Dance, it seemed as if Death Bringers were supposed to creep into the middle of a battlefield. The angle and speed of the war scythe rotations combined with footwork seemed to have the intent of creating a radius in which you could deal with multiple enemies.

I felt a brief glimpse of Penelope’s demonstration play in front of me and felt as if I were right. Sometimes, her swings seemed to be narrow as if she were against a singular opponent. Other times, she made retreated backward while making a wide, arcing, swing toward her front as if to keep enemies at bay.

My practice session extended by another 3 hours before I snapped out of and realized I needed to visit the testing facility.

My short training reminded me that people with superhuman abilities fought far differently than ordinary humans did. When fighting the standard monsters that emerged from the Ruins, most skilled Gifted only needed a few moves. When they fought with each other though, it played out like movies from the pre-ruin era. Speaking of, everyone had heard the rumor about a few Gifted who solely hunted others with gifts. Supposedly, they sold their talents to different countries who wanted to deal with those gifted who had committed too many crimes to be overlooked. And befitting a rumor, there was no definitive evidence except a few low-quality snippets that might as well have been staged.

I washed up and threw on a hoodie and sweatpants, and stashed away the skull covered book, before heading out. I checked my mailbox and found the note detailing the address and the name of my “kind” neighbor, Nancy.

“That place isn’t too far.” If I recalled the location correctly, I should be meeting them at a restaurant close to where I lived.

I folded up the note and called for a taxi and headed toward the testing facility.

…

A short trip later, and I stepped into the facility, finding it to be much like I expected it. Besides the neat orderly arrangement of the interior, there were seats full of normal looking people and a few oddballs. As a man who stared at corpses, finding them to be beautiful in a way, I had no room to judge. But there was a guy decked out in a makeshift superhero costume which made it hard not to.

“Please, take a ticket and be seated. Make sure to have a proper form of payment when your ticket is called or you’ll have to reschedule.” A woman gestured to a small machine that pumped out tickets like candy.

I grabbed one and sat in an empty chair, as far away as I could get from everyone else but there were just too many people to be completely alone.

“Hey, what’s your gift?” A man, the one dressed in yellow spandex and what might’ve been skiing goggles asked.

“Um...me?” I inquired.

“Yeah, you.” He nodded.

I looked at the man and then to the others around us, discovering they had long since tuned him out.

“...I thought that wasn’t a subject you should speak openly about,” I finally replied.

“Exactly!” A young woman seemed to agree with me.

“That’s all nonsense for your information. My hyper cognitive abilities allow me to learn any skill with three times the speed of a normal individual.”

“So why the suit?” I asked curiously.

“Why?!” The man asked rhetorically.

The few “normal” people around him let out a sigh as he began a grand explanation, “This material of this suit is made of a specific composition of materials which help to restrain my ability. If I don’t wear it, I’ll have the irresistible urge to constantly learn new things which is a bother.”

“...Right,” I said with a nod, as if I could possibly comprehend the principles behind it.

A skeptical onlooker let out a snort full of contempt. At a glance, he seemed fairly young, maybe in his teens, but the government had no qualms with adolescents being tested for gifts since it was the best time to groom them.

“Unlike his fake gift, my gift is very real,” The teen said in an almost theatrical voice. “I am possessed by two ancient evil spirits that constantly fight for control. Sometimes I can barely hold them in and the urge to hurt others clouds my mind. If they ever decided to work together, an unstoppable power would be released upon this world.”

A smile grew on my face as I listened to him speak and I nearly let out a laugh. The man in the spandex and teen with “evil” spirits inside of him were quite the characters. I didn’t think of them too harshly since I guess explaining my own gift would sound just a strange. I suppose it was a bit of innocent fun they were having which was fine, to each their own.

“You two sound completely idiotic.” Another man dressed in an expensive suit rolled his eyes and checked his watch, most likely a designer brand.

The teen sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes and it was only then did I notice he seemed to be wearing colored contacts, one red and one blue. While the spandex-clad man simply shook his head.

To the well-dressed man’s credit, he seemed to be the real deal. His attitude seemed more like he was going through the process because he had to. If I had to guess, he was a child of a strong Gifted or involved with a guild.

“What?” He noticed my staring and quickly confronted.

“Nothing, I guess,” I answered back calmly.

Now that I think about it, I hadn’t had much interaction with another person in a quite a while. I guess since my face was much more pleasant to look at it became easier.

“So what’s your gift then, tough guy?” Spandex asked, finding the suit-wearing man to be intolerable.

“I’m good at punching things. I could show you sometime if you’d like.” The suit-wearing man let out sarcasm filled retort.

“That doesn’t sound like much of a gift.” Spandex replied, ignoring the provocation.

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“Because I don’t like exaggerating like the rest of you.”

“If it wasn’t for my self-control, you’d be burned to ash already.” The teenager let out a snort full of contempt.

“Sure, kid.”

“Numbers, seven-hundred forty-two, fifty-three, eighty-six, and thirteen, please come up.” A robotic voice announced on the speakers.

“Ah.” I let out a soft exclamation as I was among the numbers called. Coincidentally enough, I was number thirteen. And even more a coincidence, the trio of the well-dressed man, the teen, and Spandex were called up with me.

“...Good luck,” I said to them.

“And to you too,” Spandex was the first to reply.

“I don’t need luck,” The teenager answered after.

And the man in the suit ignored me completely which I wasn’t bothered by.

We headed in separate directions where the test began. I paid the steep fee of several hundred dollars before I was allowed to enter a room with a digital display showing my number above it.

“Please stand in the center of the room to begin.” A human voice called out to me from beyond a one-sided observation glass.

I quietly stepped into the center while turning to look at the nearly empty white room. There were some type of sensors filling the wall.

Like I said before, there were different machines for testing the Ruin Energy Signature and one was used on Gifted to discern the level of their abilities. The RES classifications were numbered from one through seven with seven being the highest possible. If the RES of a ruin reached class-7 it would put an entire country on high-alert. The Gifted were a bit different in that regard, as a single class-7 gifted would be dangerous but not enough to destroy a country. Or at least, I hadn’t heard of anyone like that.

“Alright, just remain still and try to focus on your gift as best you can and the RES value of it will be recorded.”

There were a few people who probably thought you’d have to channel magic into a crystal ball or fight a bunch of robots, but no, high-tech machinery specialized for detecting gifts was at work.

I’m not sure what would happen next as I waited in complete silence with only the faint buzzing of machines to fill the air.

“Okay,” The man on who spoke through the observation glass sounded enthusiastic, a good sign for me. “It appears you have a class-2 gift. Once you exit, you will be guided to an interview room to go offer the nature of your gift.”

“Thank you.” I cracked a smile as I left the room.

But it soon faded as I realized the real test was just starting. My prior occupation and nature of my gift would be fairly suspicious so I was glad I went over it ahead of time.

“Right this way.” A male employee guided me down a hallway into a what felt like a therapist office.

Inside, a woman was sitting at a desk behind a computer, she sent me a glance before welcoming me in with a smile.

“Please, sit.” She gestured toward the chair.

As I sat down, I remembered one aspect I didn’t plan around and that was my medical history. I tried to remain calm on the outside but inwardly I wonder how it would play out.

“Now, you should have filled out a form already but can I have your ID to just pull your application up in the system?”

“Uh, sure.” I handed it over without a problem.

“Okay…” The woman raised her eyebrows slightly and I could guess the name “Casper Clay” seemed like a fake one.

Oh, that wasn't it! My appearance and height had changed drastically than what was depicted on my old ID photo. Anyone who saw my former self would be drastically surprised.

My information was entered and my application was presumably pulled up and read by the woman.

“You have received psychiatric treatment up until now, correct?” She began typing.

“...Yeah, that's right.”

“In your own words, could you explain the nature of your illness and the time when it started?”

I’m guessing she already had access but there was probably a need to make sure I was of a sound mind.

“Well...I guess it started when my mother died. Ever since then I’ve had a sort of obsession with death...Not that I went out my way to cause it, but if I encountered the corpse of an animal I would be compelled to stare...It wasn't anything too bad, I just, well, it was a bit of a bother.”

“I see.” The woman typed something into her computer before continuing. “So that explains your job with Resting Place Retrieval?”

“Yes...I didn’t tamper with any bodies though, you can call and ask about my record. It's hard to even breathe near one of the retrieved corpses let alone tamper with them.”

“There is no need to be nervous Mr.Clay, it's just a matter of formality.”

“I, uh, yeah, sorry.” I smiled dryly.

I could only be thankful she didn’t seem to be as uncomfortable as me. Though when I think about it, she should’ve seen all types of characters in her time here.

“Now, you used the term Necromancy to describe your gift, but what does that involve?”

I thought carefully before answering.

“...I can’t bring the dead back to life or anything but I had no better way to describe it. I guess you could say I feel a bit stronger around the dead, maybe? I’ve only recently awakened to my gift, you see.”

I felt it was better to be vague in this sort of situation since being too specific would only ruin things for me.

“Okay, and what do you think caused your awakening?”

Now, I was truly relaxed as I had prepared my excuse long before I arrived. There was very little chance I would be suspected of finding a gift awakening artifact now. Unless I managed to slip up and say something revealing which wasn’t going to happen.

“Oh, I stopped using my meds a few days before it happened,” I answered clearly.

“So it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to say that the medication you used hampered your gift up until now?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. After I stopped using it, I even felt my compulsion to stare at corpses go away.”

While I was telling the truth, I still had the same view of death I started with, the medications didn't change that.

“That’s very useful information.” She typed what seemed to be a long paragraph into the computer.

I guess my experience served as somewhat useful data in the discovery of gifts. I already said it, but early grooming of Gifted was very much a thing. Some of the very best Gifted were trained from a young age.

“And I don’t really need to ask this but there were physical changes with your gift, correct?”

“Yes.” I smiled, feeling that I had overcome the worst part.

The woman asked me a few more questions before it was all over. I had to have my picture taken for my gifted identification card which listed me as class-2 and permitted me to buy low-level artifacts as well as apply for Ruin Clearing. To top it off, I was given a one-thousand dollar voucher to purchase equipment. If my gift was a higher class, I’d be given a lot more money but I didn’t care. I had to start somewhere after all.

Before I left, I was given a few pamphlets of specialized training classes that were flexible for different gifts. A few referrals to low-tier guilds sponsored by the government since the higher-tier ones were basically their own entity and recruited how they wanted. Lastly, there was a thicker booklet detailing where I should start my ruin clearing as well as how I should go about it. It was a very generous guide for beginners that answered a lot of questions I had.

As I left the facility, I ran into Spandex and the teenager who had their own packets to read through.

“Ah, it’s you!” Spandex said, waving at me.

His good-natured attitude toward me made me feel a little bad for giving him that nickname so, I decided to ask what his name was.

“So, I know we shouldn’t speak about our gifts, but what’s your classification level? I got class one.” He showed off his ID card.

“...I also got evaluated as class one. They couldn’t possibly measure the strength of my gift anyway.” The teen seemed unaffected by the low rating.

“I got a bit lucky and got measured at class two,” I added my humble input.

“Oh wow!” The spandex-clad man seemed surprised and even the angsty teen seemed to feel it was a little unexpected.

“Hey, there’s that guy.” The teen nodded toward the other side of the street where the well-dressed man was busy climbing into a sports car.

“What do you think his gift is measured at?” The man asked.

“Class three of four most likely. If not, higher.” I answered, giving my honest thoughts.

Guild’s earnestly supported those with useful gifts or high classifications so he was clearly well off financially and probably had some fighting experience under his belt.

“Well, I should go buy some equipment. If we meet again we should try taking on a ruin or something,” I said half-jokingly.

“Sure thing, it was nice to meet you.” The man in spandex easily agreed.

“Whatever.” The teen shrugged.

What a strange kid he was.

“Well, see you guys later.” I headed toward the equipment shop that was purposefully located near the facility.

“Sure.”

“Yup.”

They answered back.

I headed across the street and toward the equipment with a bit of anxiety. I still had yet to adjust to my newly acquired occupation.