The sliding doors parted with a soft mechanical hiss, and Sebastian stepped into the academy's examination wing. Not even a full step inside the hall proper, and he was greeted by the checkpoint corridor. Narrow, efficient, and a little… hostile-looking if you squinted.
A thin horizontal beam swept down his body once, scanning for electronics. To the right, sleek wall-embedded lockers gleamed under cold lights. Above them, a digital sign blinked:
ALL UNAUTHORIZED MATERIALS MUST BE GIVEN IN!.
Sebastian dug into his jacket and pulled out his phone, then a small folded note he had nearly forgotten. He paused for a heartbeat before sliding both into the locker. The compartment sealed automatically, assigning him a retrieval code.
An invigilator stepped forward. The search was routine, expected. No aggression, no suspicion—just procedure. Sebastian raised his arms slightly. A handheld scanner passed over him while another examiner performed a quick check: sleeves, pockets, waistband, ankles. Efficient. Professional. Non‑violating.
He lowered his arms once cleared and moved forward.
The exam hall opened before him.
It was vast, structured with military precision. A hundred desks stood in perfect rows. Modern architecture—steel framework, clean lines, discreet lighting panels overhead—met polished, slightly worn wooden floors. The wood absorbed sound, muting footsteps to a disciplined hush.
Along the walls, high-resolution digital portraits displayed former officers of the academy. These weren't mere decorations—they were records of achievement. Each portrait listed rank, years of service, and a brief citation. Some cycled through battlefield commendations; others showed stern graduation photographs from decades past. The message was clear: this hall produced leaders.
Each desk held an electronic examination pad, screens dormant until activation. Mounted on every desk was a clear glass shield—angled so students could only see their own work. From above and between the aisles, invigilators had full visibility. Subtle and Intelligent. Nearly impossible to bypass.
Sebastian checked the number assigned to him: 63.
He moved through the rows, checking carefully. The wooden floor echoed softly beneath each step. Students filtered in behind him, each passing through the same checkpoint routine.
Sixty‑one. Sixty‑two. Sixty‑three.
He stopped.
The number was etched in the corner of the desk. He sat down, posture straight, hands resting lightly on the inactive pad.
More students entered. The murmur faded as seats filled one by one. The hall gradually settled into structured stillness. Invigilators took their positions along the perimeter and between rows—present, yet unobtrusive.
When the final seat was occupied, the sliding doors sealed shut.
A brief pause.
Then a clear, single tone resonated through the hall.
START!
The examination pads flickered to life.
The exam had begun.
...Three hours later.
They were filing out. English and Maths. Both punishing. Hands pounded, pens dropped to cool. Brain fried. Today? A mix of mental masochism and low-grade physical torture.
But for all the suffering of the "normal" students, none had endured the mental torment Sebastian had. He slumped by the water fountain, sweat streaming down his face. Technically, the exam hadn't been impossible—but he had pushed himself beyond the lower-tier paper most had taken. On reaching the 20th question of the 30, he needed extra help. He had engaged Hollow Sight.
Cheater? Yeah, right. The exam instructions said to complete the paper to the best of his ability. Wasn't using his ability part of that?. As expected activating Hollow Sight took time, the only problem—and he wished he'd known sooner—was that disengaging afterward was harder without the aid of some sort of distraction.
This meant that he not only finished the lower paper but then went and did the higher-tier questions, the one for geniuses and even then they did only 10 - 15 questions.
ಥ_ಥ
He felt the power in him asserting itself almost independently, like his seat had been swapped with a pro's—an AI following only rules, relentless and unstoppable. It leveraged him to answer every question, completing 80%of the paper. This in it self was a feat that few could achieve, and to add to this, he felt he might have gotten a lot of them correctly.
But of course, this came with its backlash. A headache that didn't just throb—it tortured. His friends saw him looking like a zombie dipped in sadness and ran to buy recovery supplies. Ice cream, croissants, sugar bombs. When they returned, jaws dropped. He gorged on it like a tiny vacuum cleaner possessed by caffeine demons.
He sighed. The hollow feeling inside him hadn't faded rather it had increased by quite the amount; it felt permanent, like a chunk of him had been bitten off. His friends returned, hands loaded with ice cream, croissants, and other goodies. They watched in disbelief as he devoured everything in record time.
"Bruh… was it that bad?" Jack asked, breaking the silence. "Maybe we should've gotten a tutor for extra help."
Seb shook his head tiredly. "It wasn't that difficult," he said, voice low and hoarse. He pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to shake off lingering exhaustion. The tiredness was only being held at bay temporarily—and based on his eating requirement he might a lot more calories or risk losing weight fast.
"You sure?" they both questioned
"Yeah, brain fatigue is one thing, but you look like the exam tried to end you," Jack added.
"Your face is whiter than the blush makeup in the drama club," Alex followed, concern etched on his face.
"I'm okay, guys. It's Not that bad. A few days, and poof—I'll be back to the old me," Seb replied, trying to reassure them.
The two friends exchanged a quiet glance. A few more days? Fine. But physics and engineering maths tomorrow… if ordinary maths had nearly killed him, what did that mean for tomorrow, A funeral?, They decided not to scare him—he'd find out soon enough at home. For now, calories were priority, Terror later.
...A month later...
The exams had ended a week ago. In his easiest subject, computer science, he hadn't needed Hollow Sight. But the cumulative toll on the first two days, had done serious damage. Engineering Maths delivered the finishing blow. He hadn't fainted in the hall, but leaving it, Yep, dramatic fainting moment for maximum audience shock.
He was taken to the nurse's office. His mother then called to pick him up. Extra time was granted for the next exams based on the medical report.
The doctor diagnosed low blood pressure and glucose levels, warning of potential diabetes tests—but emphasized it wasn't immediately life-threatening. This reshaped Sebastian's priorities: scores mattered less than his young life. He refrained from using Hollow Sight afterward, completing papers on his own.
The rest of the week passed without incident. He only engaged Hollow Sight for high-value, memory-based questions, and even then cautiously.
The following weeks were recovery.
And mockery.
Lots of mockery.
"You look like a zombie," Jack said one afternoon while they walked across campus.
Sebastian adjusted his bag and shook his head.
"Incorrect."
Alex raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Sebastian spoke with calm certainty.
"I'm clearly a vampire."
Jack stared at him.
"You fainted during maths."
"Many great vampires are misunderstood."
"You ate six croissants in three minutes."
"Recovery feeding."
"You passed out in public."
"Dramatic flair."
Alex nodded thoughtfully.
"Yeah… no."
Jack added the finishing blow.
"Also vampires are supposed to be hot."
Sebastian paused.
"…Unnecessary."
"Just stating facts."
"GLAZING," Alex declared.
Sebastian decided the conversation was beneath him.
Which was fortunate, because continuing it would require energy, and he was currently operating at the metabolic efficiency of a mildly depressed housecat.
Results were still weeks away.
Which meant Sebastian had achieved something rare among students everywhere:
He had nothing urgent to panic about.
Of course, this peace would eventually end.
Results day always arrived.
Like taxes.
Or bad decisions.
so he focused on ghost stories and on gradually easing the hollow feeling. Abstaining from his ability for two weeks helped, though it didn't vanish entirely. The improvement was enough and that was all that mattered.