A low bzzt echoed from every student’s wristband, pulling their attention to the air above them.
Holographic letters shimmered mid-air, bold and cold:
“Freshman Class A: Initial Combat Assessment”
A voice from the speakers crackled to life—gruff, aged, and clearly unimpressed.
“Three tests. Strength. Speed. Duel. Rankings will be displayed publicly. Excuses will not be.”
Jack watched as the gym began to shift. Platforms rose from the floor—some stacked with heavy objects, others forming sprint tracks. A row of digital pillars flashed blue, each labeled with a student’s name and a blank rank slot beside it.
“Begin.”
The crowd didn’t hesitate.
Some kids—already glowing, pulsing, shifting—dashed into motion. One guy screamed as his muscles doubled in size, launching a truck-sized block into the air. Another student blurred past Jack in a sonic boom that made his ears pop.
“Holy shit…” Ethan muttered beside him, eyes wide. “Are we supposed to lift that?”
He pointed to a steel cube the size of a fridge. Jack knew what it weighed. He’d lifted something similar in their garage once—with both hands, teeth clenched, and his mother yelling at him the whole time not to push himself too hard.
“I… I think so,” Jack mumbled, trying to hide the dread.
Ethan cracked his knuckles. “Alright. Let’s see what these plasma pulses can do.”
The boy walked off, energy flickering from his palms like unstable lightning.
Jack stepped forward.
He stood in front of the cube. The instructor barked something, but his mind filtered it out. He raised both hands, fingers trembling slightly. The metallic object wobbled—just barely—before shaking violently and slamming back down with a thud that echoed louder than it should’ve.
A few students glanced over.
Jack clenched his jaw. Tried again. The cube lifted maybe four inches off the ground before slamming back down again.
Behind him, someone snorted. “That all you got?”
A few soft laughs followed.
He didn’t turn around. Just kept his eyes on the steel.
Next test. Speed.
The track was straightforward. Sprint to the other side, power-assisted if you had anything to show off.
Jack didn’t.
He ran. Hard. He wasn’t slow, but next to the blurs, teleporters, and literal air-walkers, he might as well have been walking. His time blinked red on the screen.
He turned around just in time to see Ethan explode off the line, both palms bursting with crackling energy. His plasma pulses kicked like twin jet engines, launching him forward in a wild, ungraceful sprint that ended with him tumbling into a crash mat, laughing the whole way.
“Did I look cool?! Tell me I looked cool!”
“You looked like a grenade with feet,” someone shouted back.
“Hell yeah!”
Jack smiled—just a little.
And then came the worst part.
“One-on-one evaluations. Randomized. No refusals.”
A digital screen flickered above the gym, pairing names in glowing blue letters.
Jack Taylor vs Ren Miller
Jack blinked. Ren who?
He barely had time to think before a thin, lanky kid stepped onto the platform. White buzzcut, neon goggles, and a faint blue aura around his legs that shimmered like heat off pavement.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Speedster.
Jack stepped up onto the platform. His body already felt sluggish.
The instructor nodded. “Begin.”
Ren vanished.
Jack felt the wind change before he saw the blur. A flicker of movement and then—
Crack.
A foot slammed into his side. He barely stayed standing.
He turned—another blur.
Wham. Shoulder hit.
Then again. And again.
Ren wasn’t even trying to end it. He was dancing with it, toying with him in front of everyone. Each hit a punctuation mark. Each moment dragging out the humiliation.
Jack tried to swing his arm, use his telekinesis to pull something—anything—but Ren was gone before the thought even landed.
“Match over.”
He lay flat on the floor, chest heaving, eyes on the steel ceiling above.
No one clapped. No one needed to.
“Just a bad start, after lunch things will be better” Jack thought
But Lunch seemed worse.
He sat beside Ethan, holding a half-eaten sandwich like it might turn into a shield. The cafeteria was massive—open-air roof, trees growing through the middle, sunlight pouring in like a scene from a brochure.
But Jack could feel the whispers.
“That’s him. Rank 51.”
“Thought he was supposed to have telekinesis or something.”
“Can’t even lift a goddamn cube.”
“You know telekinesis is for labor only, don’t know why he is here”
“I guess some weren’t so lucky in the lotery”
A group nearby burst into laughter. At the center of it—Ava. Tanned, gleaming skin. Curly black hair bouncing with every exaggerated head tilt, yellow eyes flickering with amusement.
She leaned over, smile venom-sweet. “Hey, Jack, right? I saw your match. Don’t worry. Maybe next time, your opponent will walk.”
The girls around her laughed. Even a few boys joined in.
Jack opened his mouth—but Ethan beat him to it.
“Wow,” Ethan said, standing up. “Did it hurt falling from heaven, Ava? Because you definitely hit your head on the way down.”
Ava’s grin sharpened. “Keep talking, plasma boy. You’re two sparks away from being a walking battery.”
They went back and forth. Jack stayed quiet.
From another table, Lily watched.
She didn’t say anything. But she looked like she was... analyzing. Judging. Maybe disappointed.
Jack could feel it—every gaze like a needle.
He tried to keep eating.
Lunch break went by and the afternoon classes were about to start, Jack was on his way but suddenly the hallway went quiet behind him.
Jack turned.
BRANDON, the lider of The Titans, the so called cult of the school, your typical bullies, where those with only super strength were part of it, in fact if you have super strength you belong to them. He was standing there. Six feet tall, built like a tank, varsity jacket stretched tight over his arms. Behind him—two more students with matching smug grins.
In front of them, a small, two nervous freshman backed against the lockers.
“I already said no,” the kid whispered. “I—I don’t want to join the Titans.”
Brandon smiled. Not a kind one. “It’s not a request.”
“Come on what are you waiting for? HIT HIM” Brandon demanded
This is how the recruitment went.
The two other members surrounded the freshman, giving them no escape.
“I’m giving you a choice, trust me I won’t be so gentle with your friend, so just hit him and join us once and for all”
Nobody interfered, nobody much cared, I mean what do you intend to do really?
But for some unknow reason.
Jack’s feet moved before he could stop them.
“Hey!” he shouted.
Brandon turned, blinking slowly. “Huh?”
“Leave him alone.” Jack mutered
Jack stepped between him and the freshman.
Brandon raised an eyebrow, and looked Jack from head to feet, then with a wide grin said “I guess we have a hero in our hands, we better back up now or who knows what he might do”
Jack gulped hard, and didn’t look in his eyes, but still refused to go away.
Brandon smiled wider. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, and I undertand you are a freshmen too, so you really don’t know how things work, so I’ll make this easier for you.”
Jack didn’t understand what he meant by that, he thought that maybe he did it.
He stopped the bullies.
He was a hero.
But then—
Crack.
One punch.
Everything went black.
..........
Jack woke up in the infirmary, light flickering above him, head pounding like a war drum, his eyes still foggy but able to see what it seemed to be a nurse.
“You are finally awake, it was difficult to heal a fractured jaw, but you'll be fine as long as you take these pills before bed”
The nurse proceded to give two blue pills.
“Oh, and a girl left you a note”
Beside him on the bedside table was the note, with precise and clean handwriting.
“You missed the rest of the evaluations. You’re officially rank 60. Lowest of the freshmen. Rest well, Lilly Watson”
"What a crazy first day to have, I’ve never had a first day freshman end up in the infirmary” The nurse said while gigling.
“Anyways you are clear to go whenever you feel ready” with that the nurse left the room.
.........
Jack didn’t move for a long time.
He just stared at the ceiling.
Not thinking about anything.
He just stared.
He looked at his wristband.
And there it was.
Jack Taylor - Class A
First year
Rank - 60
