Beep
Beep
Beep -
My eyes snap open. I let my breath hitch as my fingers twitch against the thin, steril sheets of the Med-Bay. The first thing I notice isn't the light, it's the beeping of the heart rate monitor. Proof I'm still alive.
The white ceiling silently stares down at me, intriguing me. Blank. Endless. Like it is waiting for something.
"She's awake." A voice says. Not a very kind one. The voice is flat and clinical.
My head throbs as if something had split it open from the inside. My stiff body feels heavy. Why do I feel bruises that aren't there? I grasp my throat. It burns. Like fingers had been wrapped around it. Tightening.
"Oh Elara! I was so worried about you! You fainted and were in the hospital for a whole day!"
A day? I didn't plan that.
The voice is an acquaintance of mine, my classmate Sana Ito. She is probably sent to retrieve me. I use my hands to push me back up into a sitting position. Her curly blue hair stands out the most.
Reliable.
Observable.
Predictable.
"It's fine I'm okay," I assure her with a raspy voice. For some reason I feel different today.
"We have to go back to class now we have an assessment today," her voice drops deeper,
"It's mandatory that you come."
"Ok."
Confusion.
Fear.
Hesitation.
I layer the emotions carefully. If I stay cold. The empath would notice.
"Don't be afraid, I'll go with you."
"Uuh ok."
I take off the pulse oximeter that is attached to my finger. The heart rate monitor screen shows a bright red 105 bpm with the green electrocardiogram waveform (otherwise known as the ECG which visualises your heart's electrical activity.)
My legs swipe over the bed, then they lift my body up so I'm standing. I follow Sana to the exit and I glance back.
A name tag:
'Dr. Kelley'
Noted.
"You know everyone was so worried about you. We thought you were dead. I'm so glad you're here."
That's a lie
Me and Sana are walking away from the medical ward. There's a right turn in corridor proceeding with stair cases.
"The assessment will be downstairs in the outdoor area."
"Outdoor area?"
I question her. I have never seen an outdoor area. We're not allowed to go outside.
"You'll see, it will be great!"
I wonder if our versions of great is vastly different.
I fake an almost trip as we walk down the steep stairs with Sana showing concern for me. A painted red door awaits for me beneath the stairs. The crimson varnish almost tearing off. The doorknob is washed up gold.
Sana pushes the door open. I analyze my new surroundings as light floods in.
Bright blue sky .
White clouds.
Big yellow sun in the middle.
Lively trees.
Grass stretching endlessly on the ground.
At first you might think this is the outside world. But if you look deeper you will see all its flaws.
For example, the ceiling's paint is a bit torn and there's no dimension in the flat paintings. The grass on the ground is artificial.
A constructed world.
A stage.
It almost looks like a play area except for the fact that no one is smiling.
The space is large enough for over a hundred people.
All of my classmates are standing in a huge circle. Facing each other. In the centre is a tall man with a jaw like a cinder block. This is Instructor Vaughn. He doesn't look at us, he looks at his tablet in his hand, his thumb sliding over the screen.
Me and Sana integrate into the gathering, making space so we can fit in the circle. The circle becomes a bit deformed. Vaughn doesn't waste a time on the greeting.
"Combat Assessment 1: hand to hand," he announces. "No powers, no exceptions. This is about discipline, technique and durability. It doesn't matter if you win or lose, I will be judging how you fight. Fight badly and there will be a penalty."
He doesn't explain about the penalties.
He doesn't have to.
We all know about our ankle monitors.
"First match: Millicent and Graves."
Two girls step forward. It's a fast and technical fight. They trade blows for 3 minutes until Millicent lands a solid kick to Grave's ribs. Vaughn nods ands sends them back into the circle. Pass.
"Second match: Reid and Thompson."
This one is ugly. Thompson is twice the size as Reid and half as skilled. He doesn't last a minute. Withing 30 seconds, Reid has Thompson on the ground, sobbing. It happens too quick to even call it a proper fight.
Vaughn frowns with the scar on his eyebrow showing disappointment.
"Thompson, Thompson, Thompson," he tuts,
"I really believed in your potential but your results are disappointing. How pathetic."
Thompson doesn't have time to react. A sharp, electrical buzz echoes through the outdoor area. His eyes roll back as his knees bend forward, his back weighing it down, until he's grovelling on the floor. No one moves to help him.
"Next," the instructor says, his eyes scanning the list. "Ward and Vane."
A chill goes down my spine. I look over to Jaxen Vane. He's already staring at me, a predatory smirk leaping across his face. So he must have planed this. I bet he requested this match. He really does want to fight me.
Keep it average Elara, I tell myself. From the matches before me the successful one lasted 3 minutes and the failure lasted 30 seconds. If I want to find the average I would need to convert them to the same unit:
30 seconds =0.5 minutes
Then I would need to add them and then half it:
3+0.5=3.5
3.5/2=1.75
Then I would need to convert the remainder 0.75:
0.75*60=45
Final answer should be 1 minute and 45 seconds. This is the average that I need to pass. Jaxen Vane is highly skilled in combat, he's a Class A Brute, whilst I'm a Class C 'Brute'. For me to survive for exactly 1 minute and 45 seconds long, I would need to be insanely lucky. I should only get one lucky punch in and the rest I will have to get hit but I also have to dodge some. No matter how hard he hits me I have to show that I'm resilient. This is what the instructor looks into.
I step into the ring. Jaxen moves with a fluid, terrifying grace.
I have to lose.