Orian's stomach churned as he watched his grandmother, Cassiopeia, struggle for breath on the cold, hard mat. Her once-vibrant eyes, now a dull gray, fixed upon him with a mixture of love and sorrow.
“Orian my child my heir i wish i could have provided more for you. These old bones are finally giving up on me”. Grandma Cassiopeia was laid down on the cold mat, her gray eyes looking up at Orian with a sorrowful gaze. She had spent her whole life surviving now it was time for her to pass the torch of the will to live to her grandchild. After years of being homeless, time finally caught up to the venerable woman. With her dying wish she decided to give her grandchild a final gift.
“I wish for you to have a better life than me and your mother…” She coughed up her lungs. Orian stayed far away from the deathly ill woman. Her skin had big disgusting boils all over her body. By the minute she was turning more and more blue.
Orian's face twisted in a pained grimace, tears threatening to spill as he clenched his fists, trying to hold back his grief. Tears welled up once more in Orian's eyes, but he blinked them back furiously. He didn't want his grandmother's last memory of him to be one of weakness. Yet, as he stood there, unable to approach, unable to offer comfort, shame washed over him.
'A real man would stand by his family no matter what,' he thought bitterly. 'But here I am, watching my last family member die for me.'
Even as these self-recriminating thoughts swirled in his mind, a part of Orian knew that his grandmother's condition wasn't his fault. It was just bad luck, the same cruel twist of fate that had left them homeless and struggling to survive on the unforgiving streets of Arcturus.
As Cassiopeia's breathing grew more labored, she mustered her remaining strength for one final gift to her beloved grandchild.
"Orian," she gasped, her eyes suddenly focused with an intensity that belied her failing body. “My final gift to you, my child is money enough that you would be able to change our future family's fa–” Blood came out of her mouth like a breach in a dam. “Te i don’t have much time left inside the cabinet in my jewelry box in there is four hundred dollars. You can use that to join the military, sure your life will be short but it will be better… than this.”
Her eyes closed for the final time.
As Cassiopeia's eyes closed for the final time, a mixture of grief and shock washed over Orian. The weight of her final words hung heavy in the air, a bittersweet gift of possibility tinged with the harsh reality of their circumstances.
Orian stood frozen, his mind reeling from the revelation. Four hundred dollars - a fortune in their world of poverty and struggle. It was more money than he had ever seen in his life, yet its purpose filled him with a conflicting sense of hope and dread.
The military. A chance at a better life, but at what cost? His grandmother's words echoed in his ears: "Your life will be short, but it will be better... than this." Was that truly the best future he could hope for?
As the finality of Cassiopeia's passing settled over him, Orian felt a surge of determination rising within him. He may not have been brave enough to comfort her in her final moments, but he would honor her last wish. With trembling hands, he approached the old cabinet, his heart pounding as he reached for the jewelry box.
Inside, just as she had said, lay the money - worn bills that represented both a burden and a lifeline. As he clutched the cash, the reality of his situation truly sank in. He was alone now, with nothing but this money and the daunting task of forging a new path for himself.
With a mixture of reverence and determination, he pocketed the money. Whether through the military or some other means, he vowed to use this gift to forge a better future - not just for himself, but for the family he might one day have.
As he turned to leave the place that had been his home, such as it was, Orian cast one last glance at his grandmother's still form. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll make you proud. I promise."
____________________________________________________________________________
The stark, fluorescent-lit room hummed with an oppressive silence, broken only by the occasional shuffle of feet or clearing of throats. Orian stood in line, one of only a handful of people waiting to sign up for the military. The emptiness of the room seemed to amplify the gravity of the decision he was about to make.
He glanced around, taking in the faces of the other applicants. Most wore expressions of grim determination, while a few seemed to radiate nervous energy. Orian wondered if his own face betrayed the tumult of emotions churning within him - grief, fear, hope, and a desperate desire for a better life all warred for dominance.
The line inched forward slowly. With each step, Orian felt the weight of the four hundred dollars in his pocket grow heavier. His grandmother's final gift, meant to secure him a future, now felt like both a blessing and a burden.
As he approached the front of the line, Orian's mind raced. Was this really the path he wanted to take? The promise of stability and purpose beckoned, but so did the ominous warning of a potentially short life. He thought of the cosmic pacts he'd heard whispered about on the streets - of people with extraordinary abilities granted by celestial entities. Could such power be within his reach, or was that just a fool's dream?
The person in front of him finished their application and moved away, leaving Orian face to face with the recruitment officer. This was it - the moment of decision. With a deep breath, he stepped forward, ready to change the course of his life forever.
"Name?" the officer asked, voice flat and disinterested.
Orian swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "Orian," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "Orian Cassiopeia."
The recruitment officer, a stern-faced woman with graying hair pulled back into a tight bun, peered at Orian over her glasses. Her voice was crisp and efficient as she spoke.
"Very well, Mr. Cassiopeia. Please fill out this form with your details." She slid a clipboard across the desk, a pen attached by a thin chain.
Orian took the clipboard with slightly trembling hands, scanning the form before him. The questions seemed to stare back at him, each one a step towards his uncertain future:
1. Full Name: ___________________________
2. Date of Birth: _________________________
3. Place of Birth: _________________________
4. Current Address: _______________________
5. Emergency Contact: ____________________
6. Education Level: _______________________
7. Prior Work Experience: __________________
8. Medical Conditions: _____________________
9. Criminal Record (if any): _________________
10. Reason for Enlistment: __________________
As Orian began to fill out the form, he hesitated at several points. The 'Current Address' field made him pause - he had no fixed address to speak of. For 'Emergency Contact', he realized with a pang that he no longer had anyone to list.
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When he reached 'Reason for Enlistment', Orian's pen hovered over the blank space. How could he encapsulate his desperate hope for a better life, his grandmother's dying wish, and his fear of the streets in a few short words?
"We don't have all day," the officer's voice cut through his thoughts. "Fill it out to the best of your ability. Be honest - any discrepancies will be grounds for immediate disqualification."
Orian nodded, swallowing hard as he continued to complete the form.
1. Full Name: Orian Cassiopeia
2. Date of Birth: 07/15/2006
3. Place of Birth: Arcturus Central Hospital
4. Current Address: No fixed address
5. Emergency Contact: N/A
6. Education Level: Partial high school
7. Prior Work Experience: Odd jobs, street vending
8. Medical Conditions: None known
9. Criminal Record (if any): None
10. Reason for Enlistment: Seeking better opportunities and stable future
Orian looked over his responses, a mix of emotions washing over him. The stark reality of his situation was laid bare on the page - no fixed address, no emergency contact, limited education and work experience. Yet, he felt a small surge of pride at his clean criminal record, despite the hardships he'd faced.
His reason for enlistment seemed inadequate to express the depth of his motivations, but it was the most concise way he could think to put it. He hoped it would be enough.
With a deep breath, Orian handed the clipboard back to the recruitment officer, awaiting her reaction and whatever came next in this life-changing process.
The recruitment officer examined Orian's form, her expression unreadable. After a moment, she looked up at him.
"Very well, Mr. Cassiopeia. The next step is a series of tests to evaluate your physical condition and aptitude. Follow me."
She led Orian through a door into a large, gymnasium-like room. Various stations were set up around the space, each designed to test different aspects of a recruit's abilities.
"We'll start with the physical assessment," the officer explained, gesturing to a young man in a military uniform. "Private Chen will guide you through the exercises. After that, you'll move on to the aptitude test."
Private Chen approached with a clipboard. "Alright, Cassiopeia, let's see what you're made of. We'll begin with a timed run, then move on to push-ups, sit-ups, and a few other exercises."
As Orian went through the physical tests, he surprised himself with his performance. Years of surviving on the streets had honed his body more than he realized. He completed the run with energy to spare, his lean frame carrying him swiftly across the track.
The strength exercises proved more challenging, but Orian gritted his teeth and pushed through. By the end, Private Chen was nodding approvingly.
"Not bad, Cassiopeia. You've got potential."
Next came the aptitude test. Orian sat at a desk, facing a computer screen. The questions ranged from basic math and language skills to complex problem-solving scenarios. Some questions seemed oddly specific, testing his ability to visualize spatial relationships or predict outcomes based on limited information.
As he progressed through the test, Orian felt a strange sensation. The more he focused, the clearer his thoughts became. It was as if a fog was lifting from his mind, revealing capabilities he never knew he possessed.
In one section, he was asked to manipulate abstract shapes in his mind, rotating and combining them to solve puzzles. To his surprise, the shapes seemed to come alive in his imagination, moving with a fluidity that felt almost... cosmic.
When the test concluded, Orian sat back, both exhilarated and confused by the experience. The recruitment officer approached, studying a tablet with his results.
"Interesting," she murmured, her eyebrows raised slightly. "Mr. Cassiopeia, your physical results are above average, but your aptitude scores..." She paused, looking at him with newfound interest. "They're quite remarkable in certain areas. Particularly in spatial reasoning and predictive analytics."
Orian blinked, unsure how to respond. "Is... is that good?"
The officer's lips quirked in a small smile. "It's more than good, Mr. Cassiopeia. It might just open some very interesting doors for you. In fact you have broken the long standing record in spatial reasoning and predictive analytics."
As Orian tried to process this information, he couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted. The tests had revealed not just his current capabilities, but hinted at a potential he was only beginning to understand.
"Follow me, Mr. Cassiopeia," the officer said, breaking into his thoughts. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
She led him through a series of hallways until they reached a nondescript door marked "Special Assignments." Inside, the room was furnished with sleek, modern furniture and filled with the hum of high-tech equipment. A man in a sharp uniform sat behind a large desk, his piercing eyes assessing Orian as he entered.
"Mr. Cassiopeia, this is Major Hawke," the officer introduced. "He oversees candidates with exceptional test scores."
Major Hawke stood, extending a hand. "Orian, it's a pleasure to meet you. Please, have a seat."
Orian took the offered chair, still trying to gather his thoughts. Major Hawke’s presence was commanding, his gaze intense yet not unkind.
"I've reviewed your test results," Major Hawke began. "Your physical capabilities are impressive, but your aptitude scores, particularly in spatial reasoning and predictive analytics, are extraordinary. We rarely see such potential."
Orian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "What does that mean for me?"
Major Hawke leaned forward, his expression serious. "It means you have options. Our standard military path offers structure and purpose, but given your unique abilities, we have specialized programs that could better harness your potential. Programs that deal with strategic operations, advanced reconnaissance, and even research into... well, let's call it 'extraordinary phenomena.'"
Orian’s heart raced. The mention of extraordinary phenomena piqued his curiosity, stirring memories of the cosmic pacts and whispered stories from the streets.
"Extraordinary phenomena?" he echoed, trying to keep his voice steady.
Major Hawke nodded. "Yes, there are forces at play in our world that go beyond conventional understanding. People with abilities that defy logic, often attributed to cosmic influences. Your test results suggest you might have a natural affinity for such phenomena."
Orian's mind raced with possibilities. Could this be the path his grandmother had envisioned for him? A chance not just to survive, but to truly make a difference?
"I don’t understand. Are you saying I could have powers or something?" Orian asked, his skepticism evident.
Major Hawke smiled slightly. "Possibly. The potential is there, but it requires training and a willingness to embrace the unknown. Our program can help you explore these capabilities. Of course, the decision is yours."
Orian took a deep breath, considering his options. The standard military path offered a stable future, something he desperately needed. But the chance to explore his potential, to possibly gain abilities that could change his life and help others, was an opportunity he couldn't ignore.
"I'll do it," Orian said, his voice firm. "I want to join the specialized program."
Major Hawke’s smile widened. "Excellent choice. We'll begin your training immediately. Report here tomorrow at 6:00 am. Welcome to a new world, Orian."
As Orian left the room, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through him, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. His grandmother’s final gift had given him more than just money; it had given him a chance to discover who he truly was and what he could become.