A Quiet Life Denied

College Auditorium

The auditorium buzzed with quiet tension.

Students filled every seat, the air pulsing with whispered speculations and the rustle of papers. At the center of the stage, a screen glowed with bold, sterile clarity:

APTITUDE ASSESSMENT: PHASE ONE

A voice crackled over the intercom, calm but firm.

"Before we begin, a reminder: Every student has a different set of questions and invigilators will be making rounds. So if you were planning on cheating—don't."

A ripple of nervous laughter passed through the crowd.

Franz remained still, his eyes flicking to the screen in front of him. The paper was placed neatly on his desk. Neat lines. Sharp text.

100 questions. 100 minutes.

Zane, a few rows ahead, pumped his fist with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Thank God it's multiple choice," he said—loud enough for half the room to hear.

Heads turned.

A few chuckles broke out. Even Celeste cracked a reluctant smile. Lena covered her mouth to suppress a laugh.

But the mic wasn't off.

"I wouldn't be too excited if I were you," the voice over the speakers said, deadpan. "There is negative marking."

Zane's smile dropped.

He sank into his seat like a deflated balloon, face red.

The tension across the room eased.

At the back of Room—

Franz turned to Orion and muttered, "Guess I can't copy from you after all."

Orion stared at him. "You were serious about that? I thought you were joking."

Franz replied with a straight face, "I'm never joking."

A beat.

Orion gulped.

"Except when I am."

Franz scanned the paper. Questions were decent. Some business logic, a bit of probability, weird lateral thinking problems.

He circled a few answers with mild confidence.

"I guess I won't fail."

Orion, next to him, had his head down and pen flying—calm, precise. The kind of student who'd actually reviewed the syllabus.

Iris flipped pages with quiet rhythm, like this was just another warm-up.

Celeste was composed, though her eyes narrowed a little more with each question. Lena chewed on her pencil cap halfway through, visibly second-guessing every answer.

Zane?

Zane looked like he'd just realized none of the questions were about Monopoly.

He scribbled. Erased. Scribbled again. His leg bounced like it had its own internal metronome.

...

The test was over. Papers were collected. A low hum of chatter returned.

"All students, please gather in the outdoor field for Phase Two."

Outside, the group began walking together. Franz and Orion hung at the back.

"Question seventy-three was C," Franz muttered.

"You circled C," Orion said.

"You picked A?"

"Yeah."

"That explains the burning feeling in my soul."

<It's called 'being wrong.' Enjoy it, mortal.>

Franz rolled his neck, sighing. "Fuck you."

[This is 'character development.']

They met the rest of the group by the stairs.

Iris greeted them with a brief, assessing glance. Lena offered a soft, "Hey," directed at Franz. He returned it with a small smile, the kind that didn't need words.

Celeste's eyes flicked from Orion to Franz and back again. She didn't say anything, but something in her expression lingered—curious, thoughtful. Orion didn't meet her gaze. He stood straighter now, quieter. A little more solid than before.

Zane was the first to break the moment.

"Hey man," he said, nudging Franz lightly with his elbow. "How'd you do on the test?"

Franz exhaled through his nose, adjusting his glasses. "Let's just say… I don't think I had the aptitude for it."

Zane's grin came fast—too fast. He tried to play it cool but couldn't quite hide the relief on his face.

"Same here," he said. "Me and Emphera are setting new records in creative guessing."

Emphera rolled her eyes and muttered, "Speak for yourself, Zane."

"Oh come on," Zane shot back, hands raised, "I saw you kissing your pencil like it was a love letter and ticking options like you were casting spells."

Lena laughed. Celeste followed with a quiet chuckle, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

Even Iris cracked a faint smile.

Then the group moved toward the area of next Test.

...

Courtyard — Open Arena

The courtyard was alive with sound and color. The entire student body had gathered, clustering around open fields and designated testing zones. Colored banners marked sections: Track & Field, Archery, Shooting, Martial Combat, Team Games.

Since the aptitude test results were used for internship placements and college sponsorships, the entire student body and faculty had shown up to watch. Whispers about who would 'stand out' were louder than the cheering.

Celeste, Iris, Lena, Emphera, Zane, Franz, and Orion stood together just off the central square, where a large holographic board cycled through instructions.

PHASE TWO: INDIVIDUAL APTITUDE

Select one individual activity and one team sport.

Franz crossed his arms, glancing at the screen.

"Any of you know what you're picking?"

...

Archery Range – Individual Test Zone

The archery field was a wide open lawn set up with staggered targets, ringed in white, blue, red, and gold. Spectators stood along the sidelines. More had gathered than expected. Some whispered. Others placed casual bets.

Lena stood calm and poised, her bow in hand.

Next to her, A guy watched with an easy grin. Tall, auburn-haired, with a laid-back slouch that didn't match the bow held in his long fingers.

Lena exhaled slowly. She is doing this since she was a child. Years of muscle memory guided her. She wasn't here to impress. Just hit the mark.

Thump.

Gold ring.

Thump.

Dead center.

Thump.

Cleanest bullseye of the round.

Gasps rippled from the crowd.

A few arrows later, Reed stepped up.

He was good.

Very good.

Reed let out a low whistle, pulling his arrows free.

"You've been doing this a while, huh?"

"Since I was a kid," Lena replied, slinging her bow back over her shoulder.

"You make it look unfair," he said, smiling. "But in a hot way."

She blinked. "What?"

He replied, tone a little too smooth.

"Nothing,"

Then with an easy shrug, he added, "Name's Alistair Reed. But you can call me Ali."

He started walking off, still not glancing at the scoreboard.

"Don't be a stranger next time you see me."

Final scores:

1st Place: Lena Beaumont – 298/300

2nd Place: Reed Alistair – 294/300

...

100m Sprint – Individual Test Zone

Senior Students and faculties lined the track, forming a crowd along the metal barricades. Laughter, chants, and cheering filled the air as one event after another began. Even those who had different sports to participate leaned over the railings, eyes glued to the runners.

Orion stood at the line.

His heart thudded—not from nerves.

To his left stood a taller student. Not muscle-bound, but Athletic in that quiet, efficient way. His dark hair was swept back and barely moved even in the wind. His expression was still and sharp

A student nearby clapped his hands once. "Let's all do our best!"

He tilted his head, then glanced forward with Indifferent face.

"It won't matter."

A buzzer sounded.

The official raised a flag.

"On your marks!"

Orion crouched low. Fingers touched the warm track. Breath in.

"Get set!"

His chest tightened.

Crack!

The shot rang out.

They launched.

Orion surged forward, legs burning instantly, muscles straining. His breath came hard. Fast. He didn't look left. Didn't look right.

Just forward.

The guy was already ahead.

By a hair. A shadow.

But Orion's legs kept pushing. His arms cut through the air. Each step thundered in his chest like drums. He could hear the crowd now—faint shouts, gasps—but only in flashes.

They were neck and neck.

Ten meters left.

Five.

Orion leaned forward at the last moment—.

At the finish line, the crowd exploded.

The results flickered to life on the digital screen overhead.

Orion, gasping for breath, looked over. Damien had steady breathing.

He gave Orion a polite nod before walking off without a word.

Final result:

1st Place: Damien Holt – 10.91s

2nd Place: Orion Kane – 10.93s