“What the fuck?” I said aloud, probably loud enough for everyone in the room to hear me.

I shook my left arm with the tattoo, complaining, “Roll, damn you! You rolled literally a second ago!”

“Stop pretending, just activate your ability. We have more important things to do than wait for you,” Lieutenant Dimitri growled from the chair. Wow, first time I heard him say a sentence longer than two words, and without the word ‘rank’ to boot.

“If you haven’t noticed, fink, that's what I'm trying to do,” I said as I slapped my shoulder repeatedly, continuing to shake it like the whole arm had fallen asleep.

“Tap the tattoo and will your power to activate. I saw you do it earlier, so can we get over this desperate plea for attention and get on with it?” he said through his teeth, like his patience had worn thin long before I'd stood before him.

“If you haven’t noticed, idiot, that's what I'm trying to do!” I said slowly, like he was missing his brain.

“Hurry up, man!” I heard the fink in the towel shout, before some others from the crowd started copying him.

“I am trying!” I growled at them, literally shaking my arm for all its worth. Why wouldn't it activate? Did I piss it off? Maybe... maybe it left me, a small part of my mind dared to hope. Maybe it had abandoned me like the world always had. Maybe, finally, I would be thrown a bone. Maybe I wouldn't have to be one of them.

“Lieutenants. Subdue him,” The General herself said, cutting through my thoughts entirely.

“One moment you're helping, the next you're sending your dogs after me. Can you make up your mind?” I shouted up at her as I threw my hands in the air.

I watched as the Lieutenants, or whatever she called them, spread out around me, clearly remembering our little discussion in the shower earlier. I dropped my hands, spread my legs apart, and smiled, ready to fight all of them.

Before the thought had even formed, the dice appeared—rolling, spinning, laughing at me. That damned dice. My chest tightened, my throat burned, the pain far worse than any gunshot I'd had to walk with earlier.

It hadn't left. Of course it hadn't.

“Oh, come on, now you show up?” I shouted at it. I was irritated, definitely. But it felt like a small piece of me I didn't know I had died. Like this thing would never abandon me, the only thing on earth I wished would. I felt marked and dirty. Far more dirty than when I was covered in blood and ash.

“Stand down, Lieutenants. Now, receive your rank and get in line,” she commanded, although she sounded almost pleased, like she had just confirmed something to herself.

“Lady, what is wrong with you?” I shouted up at her again, before turning around and grabbing the rock.

Lieutenant Dimitri was looking at me with open disgust and hatred, but finally, he looked down at the rock and said, “B rank. Now get in line.”

I heard lapdog growl behind me. “You will speak to her with respect, or you will never speak again.”

“Oh, so scary, like it doesn't take six of you to take me on,” I said, rolling my eyes as I walked past all of the guards standing around me. They stared at me with open hatred, one even hovering his hand above the gun at his waist.

I walked up to the line with Lieutenant Zenzele in the front, about forty people ahead of me. In front of Lieutenant Michael looked like two thousand people. In front of Colonel Walker, however, stood only five people.

“Sorry, son, will you come to the front? I want you to be where I can see you,” Lieutenant Zenzele said, pointing directly at me.

I rolled my eyes. Why was I getting such special treatment? I think it was the good looks. But I complied, walking to the front, past those forty people, who all looked at me like I was an alien.

Finally, I got to the front and stepped in line. I was about an arm’s length away from the Lieutenant; she was looking at me with suspicion, glancing down at my cuffed hands and to my feet, like I'd bolt any moment.

I looked to my right to see a small boy, probably Maria's age. He was looking at me with skepticism, like I wasn't all that was promised for Christmas. His eyes gazed up and saw me staring at him, and he immediately looked at the floor. Huh. So, that's what the finks see when they look at us. Interesting.

I looked to my left, and there The General's daughter stood, studying me like I was a rabid animal showing unexpected results. Her gaze went from head to toe. I raised my hand and flipped her the bird. Her eyes widened slightly, but then she just looked away, staring straight ahead like she wanted to burn a hole through Colonel Walker's head.

Before I could drop my hand, I felt my brain switch off, all thoughts leaving it, as my hands dropped in front of me before it passed, and I saw Lieutenant Zenzele's tattoo image glowing thingy, an image of a brain with a lighting bolt going through it, fading away as she looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Behave,” she said sternly. I figured she must be new to training because she was clearly not used to reprimanding people.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said sarcastically, giving her the same mock salute I gave The General.

And again, Colonel Walker addressed us, holding a microphone to his lips as he said, “Alright, everyone. If you are B rank and above, please follow your assigned teacher. If you are C rank or below, wait for further instructions.”

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

And with that, he gently placed the microphone on the floor and started walking toward the doors at the end of the hall. The five teenagers behind him followed promptly. Finally, after waiting for them to leave, Lieutenant Zenzele followed suit.

I stared back at the rest of the people in the hall. So many of them looked at us with open envy. After we had been escorted out of the hall, we were led down a connecting hallway to a room with a big "B" above the doorway.

This one had a wood-tiled floor leading up to a small raised platform at the end of it, like a miniature version of the hall we had just been in. After we entered, we were told to stand in lines—five men wide and twelve men deep. And then we waited.

What is it with finks and waiting? Do they have nothing better to do? We stood there for probably ten minutes before the Lieutenant straightened up, saluting as The General herself walked in.

The man from this morning followed her in, along with the finks who had been dragging me around for the last few hours, all giving me the death stare as they walked through the door. Lieutenants, if I remember correctly. Same rank as Lieutenant Zenzele, I guess. Felt pretty smart figuring that one out.

I watched her as she entered. She strode in, posture rigid, gaze fixed ahead—like she could will a pig to sprout wings and fly if she commanded it to. She tried not to glance at me, but I guess curiosity got the better of her as her eyes darted toward mine, quick as a flash.

At that moment, her feet almost gave out under her, but she recovered quickly, continuing to walk to the raised platform. I looked around and realized the whole room was saluting her. I copied suit, letting my left arm dangle as I put my right hand on my forehead, trying to mimic the others.

The General strode onto the stage with the air of someone who was used to controlling the eyes of everyone in the room. Her gaze swept over us, lingering on me for a second longer than the others.

Then she looked at the lapdog like he had kicked a puppy. He wilted under her glare, fumbling into his pocket with the desperation of a drowning man clawing for the surface. In an instant, he was across the room to get the cuffs off me.

The cuffs came off with a faint click. The skin under them had been chafed raw, small red spots forming where the cuffs had just been. I rubbed them in relief, then looked up and gave him a shit-eating grin, mocking him with my expression as much as I possibly could. His gaze turned from fear to hatred, and I was about to see how far I could push him.

“You,” The General said, leaving no room for even a whisper to interrupt her. Her voice was honed to perfection. “The lucky few who have been chosen as the backbone of our society. Some of you may be disappointed, for you do not wear the black tunic. Some of you may be thrilled, rising higher than you thought possible. But know this. You will feed our society. Our children. You will command squads into battles that will be told for generations. You are the foundation for all others, from the lowliest shieldman all the way to my position. Everything stems from you.”

She paused, searching the room like a predator trying to pick out a weakness.

“But remember. Your first duty is to the Blessed.” She continued, her tone unyielding, her back straight as an arrow, “The position you now hold is by far the most important. It will require from you wit, tenacity, competence, and most of all, devotion. Devote yourself to your brothers and sisters. Devote yourselves to the shieldwall. Devote yourselves to Kaleidos!”

The speech was polished to a shine, like a well-worn pair of shoes you take hiking. Not bad, I thought. Sounds like something I’d tell the kids. Couldn’t hurt her to crack a smile, though. She stood there, arms folded behind her back, her expression as stony as her delivery, her mismatched gaze roaming over us like she was taking bets on which of us would survive the month.

She let the silence stretch, let it settle into them, and I saw the effect take hold. Shoulders straightened. Chins lifted. The ones who walked in with their heads down now stood taller, clinging to her words like starving men at a feast.

And then, as if this was the moment she'd been waiting for, she said sharply, “But one of you will not share this responsibility,” her tone sounded like a knife, sharp, exact, “You will rise up, as Stoyan has.” She gestured toward the fink who had been escorting her daughter this morning.

I just couldn't believe his name was Stoyan. That was his name? Really? He didn't look Russian at all, with his bronze-toned skin and that perfectly groomed mustache above his upper lip. He probably thought it made him look fancy, but it just made him look silly. His hair though—I had to admit, the slicked-back black locks were something else. Almost made me want to give it a try.

“He has shown the qualities that this position demands. Intelligence. Resourcefulness. Cunning. And you must do the same if you wish to rise.”

She straightened even further, by some miracle, and her voice gained an edge of finality, as if this was the most important piece of advice she would ever give. “The ascension tournament is exactly a month away. It is not merely a test of strength. It is a crucible of cunning, forethought, and sheer, bloody tenacity. The victor will command with authority equal to my own. They will bear the weight of the black tunic, wielding the privileges and responsibilities of the high ranker they have shown themselves to be.”

Then she shifted her head to look directly at me, her eyes going over all the others in front of me as if they didn't exist.

“And only the greatest among you shall claim this honor, as is by right of conquest!” she said forcefully, like she could drill the words into my head if she could.

She held eye contact with me before I simply raised my eyebrow at her, as I raised one shoulder in a shrug, letting it fall and then copied the rest of the baby finks. What did she want me to do? She kept looking at me like I was going to grow wings or breathe fire, which now that I think about it, isn't technically outside the realm of possibility.

The other baby finks puffed out their chests, drinking in the promise of glory. Some whispered to each other, already sizing up the competition, all of them standing stock still and yet still somehow trying to jump out and get a single glance from The General, like it would be the best thing to happen today.

I just stood there, staring. A tournament? For what? A chance to be the biggest bastard in the room?

The General's eyes went back to gazing across the room before she stepped off the platform and started walking towards the door. She passed me again, this time her gaze did not waver, eyes locked straight ahead like they were desperate to avoid mine. And then she was out the door, gone to who knows where.

The Lieutenant stepped up after her. “Heed her words, children. That was the most important speech of your life, and I hope you paid attention. Now, you will all follow me.”

And then she walked off the stage, down the aisle, walking past me the same way The General had, and then out the door.

“Uhm, you need to follow her,” I heard from a girl to my right.

I simply glanced at her before walking out the door, following the Lieutenant. We walked down a few hallways before finally coming to what looked like the entrance to the building, walking out to a giant bus, the Lieutenant walking towards it briskly.

We all lined up outside the door and then were piled into the bus. The bus smelled old, full of well-used leather and nervous sweat still lingering in the air. Funny, I was the first one seated, but no one sat next to me. I couldn't decide if it was fear or disgust, so I went with both. I just stared out the window, back towards the city. I think I'd trade all the power in the world to go back to this morning, shake the man climbing out of bed, and tell him to stay there. But no such luck. We were heading towards the tower.