We had left the building to the field out back, walking past the obstacle course and a dilapidated, almost town-like thing, with a few warehouses off to the left side. Then we veered towards them and went through the double doors of the third warehouse, a big B hanging over the door. And this warehouse felt at least a hundred kilometers wide and long, and I was probably only exaggerating a little when I described it that way.

In the middle were the rest of the B rankers, standing in front of the same Lieutenants who had been escorting me yesterday. They looked like they were here to watch a show.

On one side of the wall was what looked like a coat hanger full of every weapon you could possibly think of. Then there were a few things that didn't seem to make sense—like slingshots and umbrellas—all hanging up next to them like it was normal.

The Lieutenant told me to get in line with the others, so I swaggered up to the only remaining spot and didn’t even try standing the same way they did. Some of them glanced back at me, clearly annoyed, as Lieutenant Zenzele walked to the front, her hands behind her back—the picture of authority.

I had calmed down on the walk, but I still did not like this woman. One moment she hated me; the next, she looked at me like I was a dying puppy.

As she got to the front, she turned back to us, her hands at her sides now. Pulling out a pocket watch, she held it up and said something I could barely make out. It had to do with running? And the number fifteen?

I just glanced between the rest of the B rankers, confused, before I really heard her voice—now hot with anger. “The time has started! Get to it!”

And then the first two lines started running, the rest of us following after a brief hesitation. I glanced back at her as we were running and saw her blushing. I made sure she saw me as I pointed at her and laughed, as I realized she hadnt meant to speak so softly. What she gets, looking at me like that.

I think she understood I was mocking her for being quiet, because her blushing seemed to deepen, encompassing her whole face now.

The neat lines everyone was in had disappeared when we started; one guy even got tripped and fell over. I just jogged behind the chaotic mess as they straightened themselves out and kept running. We went around the lap fifteen times, picking up speed about halfway through when the Lieutenant yelled at us to run faster.

A few others were trying to learn how to breathe, and some of them just dropped down on the floor at the end, like we had run a marathon. I had run farther with a bullet in my leg than these people did in a nice, cushy warehouse.

I just looked down at these people the same way Sofia looked at me earlier. Clearly, they were just used to the soft life.

“Get back into lines! The lot of you!” the Lieutenant roared at us from the middle of the warehouse.

We did as instructed, the others walking towards her like running had somehow made them lose the use of their lungs.

“Form up, right now!” she screeched, one of the veins on her neck standing out.

I didn’t even know what that meant, but I was standing behind her as the rest bolted back to us, still breathing hard.

We got back into lines as she looked at us, trying to appear angry. After a moment, she seemed to try and stand up straighter than she already was.

“Alright, listen up!” she began, not sounding as confident as she probably wanted to.

She had hesitated but now waved the pocket watch vaguely, as though trying to make it sound like she knew exactly what she was talking about.

“Okay! Right, so—listen up! Only twenty of you will be in the Ascension tournament. That means not everyone—only twenty! So if your ability can’t be used in combat, uh… you’re disqualified. But that’s fine! Because non-combat roles actually make more money! So, you know… you’ll be rich!”

A long silence.

She straightened her back. “Moving on!”

Her eyes went over the crowd, seemingly trying to imitate The General, doing a poor job of it as her eyes kept darting away from each recruit like she was too scared to look at them, before continuing.

“Now, uh, when I call your name, you will come to the front and show us what you can do! Am I understood?”

“Yes, Lieutenant!” Everyone replied in unison.

The fuck? When were we supposed to start doing that?

She seemed pleased with our response, her shoulders relaxing a little, before calling out, “Marnus! Come to the—wait, no, hold on—everyone step back first. Right. Now, Marnus, come to the front and show us what you can do!”

She had said that twice now, like we wouldn’t remember the entire point of our name being called.

A pudgy boy with thin hair and eyes that seemed glued to the floor walked to the front. I realized he was the boy who had fallen. He tapped his left shoulder, his tattoo glowed, and then he hesitated before sheepishly turning to the Lieutenant and saying under his breath, “Ma’am, I don’t want to ruin the floor.”

She replied loudly for all of us to hear, smirking as she said, “This building is designed to be abused. Do your worst.”

With that, the boy nodded, his head low, he dived forward—and he seemingly dove through the floor, a hole appearing where he should have hit his head. For a second, nothing. Then, two hundred meters away, a second hole opened, and he stumbled out, blinking like he wasn't sure if the floor had just spat him back up.

After a moment, our Lieutenant blushed again, running over to the other Lieutenants watching us and asking for something. They all grinned, suppressing laughter among themselves as they handed her a clipboard. She ran back towards us. I saw the same Lieutenant who handed her the clipboard say something to the others, and they all started laughing, some covering their mouths and looking away from her. They were acting like the taxi gang with the way they were behaving. I did not like them. Not. One. Bit.

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After she got back to us, she called Marnus back from the hole he’d popped up from, asking him to repeat what he’d just done. She timed him again, and when he popped up this time, he was a little out of breath.

“Marnus, come back here quickly!” she ordered loudly. He ran back to the spot he’d started at, as she placed her hand on his shoulder and turned him around to face us, his eyes on the floor like a child about to be scolded.

“Everyone! As you can see, your abilities will have a physical effect on you! Over the course of the next month, we shall find out what your limits are and where you can improve!”

She looked down at her clipboard, her hand trembling a little. Yeah, I think she skipped ahead a bit. We were only meant to hear that later. However, she recovered very well, impressing me a bit as she tilted her jaw up and shouted at the rest of us, “Regardless, Richard! You’re next. Come to the front. Marnus, get back in line.”

And so, Richard walked to the front. He was grinning at the Lieutenant slightly, eyeing her now like he’d discovered a new favorite toy. But he did as he was told, tapping his tattoo. It started glowing as he raised one hand in the air, and a spear as tall as him appeared in it. The spear was made out of what looked like lead, the tip jagged on one side and completely serrated on the other.

All of a sudden, he pulled his arm back behind his shoulder, then launched the spear forward as hard as he could. It flew maybe fifteen meters before he pointed both hands at his temples, and the spear stopped mid-air. He moved his head up and down, and the spear followed his gaze perfectly.

He was sweating after only about thirty seconds. He made it disappear, turned toward us, and said, “How about that?”

Lieutenant Zenzele seemed to ignore him, just shouting, “Zach, your next!”

We stood there for what felt like hours, the wonder of the powers wearing off quickly. We watched as one girl built a miniature robot and made it move around with her mind. Another guy could lift the Lieutenant off her feet with his mind while standing ten meters away. Some of the others were complaining about their feet, and I saw those Lieutenants at the end of the wall playing a game of cards from a table they had stolen earlier, only looking up when Lieutenant Zenzele shouted, “Next!”

When my patience was coming to its natural conclusion, the Lieutenant looked down at her watch, her eyes growing wide, before turning to us.

“It’s lunchtime! You have twenty minutes, and then I want you back here! Not one of you will be late! And the boys who fought with Boris yesterday, when you get back here I want fifteen more laps from you! Now get out!”

The recruits scrambled for the exit, some still rubbing their legs, groaning about their feet. Strange even though we were inside the tower, it still felt like the midday sun was beating down on us, like it wanted to remind us it was still there as we trudged back to the place the rest of the B rankers called the mess hall.

After we were sitting down, most of them still just left their food on the table in front of them. Although, they did almost seem to consider eating their food this time.

We had sat in our usual place, when the “Low rankers”, name I heard from a few seats down, came in, all looking wide eyed, like they'd just seen something they did not sign up for.

Finally, after I had finished eating my second helping of pasta with sauce that the others described as sewage, I asked the table, “If you guys don’t eat, where do you put the food? Is it, like, stored for later?”

Marnus, the one who had gone first, was sitting across from me, looking down sheepishly, avoiding my gaze and staring through the table at his feet.

“We just, you know, throw it away? What are we supposed to do with it?” he replied.

I clenched my fists under the table. I had watched Maria sob because she gave up her last scrap of bread for Yelena. I had watched Yuri pretend he wasn’t hungry so the younger kids could eat. And these spoiled bastards were tossing food in the trash.

My temper flared, but I kept it under wraps as best I could. “Well, generally, you’re supposed to eat it.”

I must’ve said it too forcefully because he seemed to try and hide away from me, leaning back into his chair quite a bit. I almost felt bad before remembering they were finks. Everyone here is a fink. They don’t deserve pity. I just gazed at him before Richard, a few seats away from us, started talking loudly like he was trying to get the whole table to listen to him.

“You know, Kate, your ability is... impressive,” he said. I could practically hear the mockery dripping off his voice. “You’d make a great extra in Toy Story—perfect for animating some creepy robot toys.” He smirked like he thought it was the ultimate insult. I didn’t really get it.

“Thank you for calling me impressive, Richard,” she replied flatly, seemingly disinterested.

He didn’t like that. A sneer grew on his lips. “Not that impressive. What could your ability do anyway? Make a robot do a funny little dance?”

And then, surprisingly, Marnus of all people, his head almost buried in his tray, mumbled loudly enough for the whole table to hear, “Better a funny little dance than playing fetch with a stick.”

I was very surprised. The boy seemed as brave as that dog from a cartoon I saw in Goudstad. Did not think he had the stones to say something here.

Richard’s eyes flicked toward Marnus, and his sneer sharpened. “Wow, I didn’t even know your voice could get that high.” He leaned back, folding his arms with a casual smugness. “Not sure why you're playing the white knight, though. You’re out of breath walking to lunch, and your power? Pretty sure I've seen a shieldman with more use than you, molerat.”

Marnus looked like he was going to cry as he stared down into his tray, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. I felt sick watching this, even though I didn't understand what they were saying. The way Richard said it made me want to rip his tongue out.

I almost said something, but Kate must have noticed that Richard had struck a nerve. She decided he was not going to have the last word and snapped at him, “Leave him alone. I didn't see you raising any eyebrows when you activated your ability. You were barely able to hold that spear for thirty seconds, and I think”—she glanced down and then back up at him—“that says a lot.”

I didn’t understand the insult. She was a ginger, freckles across her nose, more cute than striking—but the fire in her words made me look at her differently. For a moment, I thought I might have even heard Maria. But then I was hit with pain, and I pushed the thought away.

Marnus glanced up at her, giving her a small smile of gratitude before going back to trying to hide in his tray. I thought he was helping her, but sure, why not reverse it?

Richard looked angry, but one of his cronies piped up, “Sounds like she wants to find out what your other spear can do, Rich. Don't know how you do it, getting the ladies all interested like that.”

She looked disgusted. I understood what he meant by that, and heat rose in my chest as I felt something in my head snap.

“Shut your sinful mouth before I shut it for you!” I was almost roaring at the boy, his eyes wide at the sudden outburst.

“Lust is the worst sin, boy.” I quoted, like I was listening to someone else crying it into my ears. “You will remember that. Or must I show you what happens to sinners?” I continued, fists clenched tightly, my voice echoing throughout the room. There was silence. All stared at me wide-eyed. But Richard recovered quickly.

“Wrath is also a sin, idiot. Or should I show you what happens to sinners?” Richard shot back, imitating my voice like he was a big man now. I saw him glance back to his cronies as they snickered, a pleased smile spreading on his face before looking back at me.

Everyone in the room had gone quiet, some still hesitantly eating, but most just had their eyes locked on us.

I was already sliding back my chair, ready to teach him his mistake, my dice already landing on a one in front of my face. Then I heard many chairs squeaking, even Richard's eyes going from me to what was evidently behind me. He stood up quickly, saluting.

I turned around, and there the “high” rankers were—all the ones who had followed Colonel Walker yesterday—walking through a door I hadn't noticed, like they owned the place. Everyone in the room was saluting them as they came to stand just outside said door.

And at the front of them stood Sofia, and she was staring at me. Again.