CHAPTER 20
"Wakey, Wakey. Sleepy heads."
Ray could feel rapid tapping on his cheeks, but for some reason, he was unable to open his eyelids until.
Splash—!
A cold liquid was dumped on his face, causing his eyelids to snap wide open in a flash as he drew a hoarse breath.
Coughing for a few moments, his eyes struggled to take in the view around him as he noticed a new figure hovering above.
Seeing that the young lad was awake, the figure rose up and turned around, leaving him staring blankly in confusion.
'Huh?'
As he twisted and turned, Ray noticed that the teens he had been with on the bus earlier were all starting to wake up too.
He also took notice of some new faces that looked dazed for a while before regaining their senses.
A mild headache washed over him, causing him to want to lift his hand when he suddenly felt the roughness beneath him.
Gazing downward, he noticed that he had been lying on the ground all along—and on his wrist, a new wristwatch?
Lifting himself from the ground, he blinked, adjusting his vision to the new wristwatch on his wrist.
The old one he had worn earlier acted like a smartphone but was much more limited, with only a few features.
Like accessing his teenage bank account, checking the time, receiving calls, and so on.
This was a safe and cheaper option for those who couldn't afford the exorbitant cost of a smartphone nowadays.
Groaning as he rose up, he could see Van making his way towards him, and soon enough, they stood side by side as all the unconscious teens were now wide awake.
On the bus earlier, the teens from the refugee camp along with Ray and Van numbered around a hundred and fifty.
But now, scattered across a wide wasteland-like field of some kind, there were about five hundred-plus teens, each standing tall with the same wristwatch he had on their wrists.
'... Weird. It's not lighting up.' he mused inwardly as he stared at his wrist for a moment.
Then he lifted his head to look in front of him.
All around the field, a few transportation vehicles were scattered, forming a circle around them.
No single building was in sight—just empty land with hundreds of teens and a man who looked to be in his early thirties, standing five metres away.
A second man stood beside an upright circle-like device fitted on a small platform.
'I wonder what that is.'
Squinting slightly, Ray noticed that his vision was actually better than before.
For some reason, he could see farther than before.
He hadn't noticed it earlier, and he hadn't tried to check, but his senses were actually different—just a little notch above his previous self.
This allowed him to see the man's attire properly.
He was dressed in a pair of long black pants, a brown long-sleeve shirt, and a pair of brown boots that almost reached his knees.
And nothing more.
No decorations on his attire, no stars or insignia—nothing.
"Ahem… Good day, you all. I'm Sergeant Bray."
'Okay?'
"I want to welcome you all to the Aspirant corps. I'm sure you all are confused about your numbers."
The man continued with a warm smile:
"... Well. It's not just you all who wanted to join the Aspirant corps, haha~. Each year, we receive a new batch, who all undergo an assessment of some kind to determine the ranking they will be placed under."
Van's brows furrowed as he gulped silently.
'Ranking eh? This is bad.'
After metas became slightly rampant, humanity noticed that some meta-humans were stronger than others.
Whether they used the same ability or not, some were just naturally stronger, hence the original Legacies decided to create a form of ranking—a power grade that each meta would be placed under.
It ranged from Grade 1 metas, which was the lowest, to Grade 8, the current highest rank a meta could receive.
Although, some metas did exceed the Grade 8 rank.
Even those placed in that Grade could surpass its limit, but that was just a fancy ranking for them.
There were some metas whose power couldn't be normally measured—metas that broke through the ceiling that the Grades placed on them.
These ones were called 'Special Grade metas.'
Even the four Legacy families, the overseers of Alcatraz, were all Special Grade meta-humans.
And of course, each grade also had a sub-grade that went from 1.1, 1.2, up to 1.8…
Van knew, at the mention of rankings, that things wouldn't be easy for them at all.
That was because those who didn't have an ability were normally called Grade 1 metas.
Both the naturally weak meta-humans and humans without any ability were automatically placed around Grade 1 by default.
Van gulped silently as he quietly glanced at Ray, feeling dread creep over him.
"... This is a formality we must undergo, so no backing out," the Sergeant continued.
"You will all be teleported to where your testing will take place.
And you will be called batch by batch. We really don't have the leisure of calling you one after the other, so you will be called out in groups of five or six, depending on my mood."
Ray lifted an eyebrow.
'So we aren't taking the test here, huh? This place actually gave me the vibes that we would be doing it here. But anyway, what do I care?'
"... Of course, your names are all here," the Sergeant said as he produced a tablet in his hand, smiling as he turned it on.
"So, let's begin…"
And so it was about to begin—the next phase for Ray and Van.
The phase that would test their will, might, determination, and of course, friendship. Would it make or break them? The Corps would determine.