Tarrin kept his smile easy, his posture relaxed—but inside, his nerves were wound tight.
There was something off about this doctor, the way he held that friendly grin a little too long, the way his gaze lingered.
It set Tarrin on edge, but he didn't let it show.
He had spent years perfecting the mask, and the only people who had ever seen past it were now nothing more than memories left behind in that cramped apartment.
Then the doctor spoke again, his voice cutting through the silence. "Since we're not too busy today, we have a little more time than usual. Why don't you tell me about your awakening, Mr. Vex?"
Tarrin hesitated. He wasn't sure how much he should say, but in the end, it didn't really matter. The Union would find out anyway. He doubted his case was anything special.
He exhaled lightly and started. "I was jumped by a group of guys. They had me on the ground, stomping me out, and then… I felt this heat, right in my gut. A second later, it spread through my whole body. The pain disappeared, and then—" He made a vague motion with his hands. "—boom. They went flying, but I was fine."
Silence stretched between them as the doctor absorbed his words, his expression shifting slightly.
"You're saying the force of your awakening sent them flying?" he asked.
Tarrin nodded. "Something wrong with that?"
"Not wrong, just uncommon." The doctor leaned back slightly, tapping a finger against his desk.
"Most awakenings manifest internally at first. But a burst of outward kinetic force suggests a specific genetic marker—one we call the Explosive Gene."
"Individuals with this trait tend to possess a higher-than-average essence capacity, which increases their chances of being chosen by a Legacy."
Tarrin narrowed his eyes slightly. "So what? That means I'm special?"
"Not necessarily." The doctor waved a hand. "It's a rare trait, but not unheard of. It just means you might have a larger essence reserve than the average Scarling, giving you an edge early on. Of course, that doesn't guarantee anything in the long run."
He paused, noticing the way Tarrin's expression had flattened. "Ah, apologies, Mr. Vex. I have a habit of getting carried away."
He gestured toward a nearby examination chair. "Let's proceed with the scan, shall we?"
Tarrin nodded along, only half-following the doctor's explanation. Explosive gene? Sounded fancy, but what did it actually mean?
More essence? A better chance at a Legacy? He wasn't sure if that was a blessing or just another way to get himself killed.
Then the doctor's voice pulled him back. "Please proceed into the examination room behind me. Remove your clothes and lie on the table."
Tarrin stiffened. 'Take off my clothes? In front of this guy?' His gut twisted at the thought, but he forced himself to keep a neutral face. He wasn't about to start acting skittish now.
After a moment's hesitation, he stepped inside, peeling off his clothes.
His lean frame, slightly underfed but wiry with muscle, was exposed under the cold clinical lights. If the doctor had any reaction, he didn't show it.
Behind a reinforced glass window, the man gave a small nod.
Tarrin laid back on the cold metal table in front of what looked like a high-tech scanner—some kind of tunnel-shaped machine humming softly with energy.
A moment later, the doctor's voice crackled through a speaker. "Mr. Vex, this will take a few minutes. Try not to move, and don't worry—it's completely harmless."
That smile was back, too smooth for comfort. Then his fingers started tapping against his console, activating the machine.
The table jerked slightly before gliding into the machine, swallowing Tarrin in cold metal and dim light.
Inside, the hum of the scanner filled the air, a rhythmic pulse of beeps and mechanical whirs. He kept still, staring up at the curved interior, trying not to think about how trapped he was.
Minutes passed before the table slid back out, bright light flooding his vision. He blinked, vision swimming slightly.
The doctor's voice crackled through the speaker. "The scan is complete, Mr. Vex. You may dress and return."
Tarrin pushed himself up, still feeling a little unsteady. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders before slipping his clothes back on.
Then, with a final glance at the machine, he stepped back into the office.
The doctor greeted him with that same easy smile. "Everything looks fine. You're in good health, just a little underweight."
His gaze flicked to the screen, then back to Tarrin. "Now, onto the important part. Your body's essence saturation is currently at seventeen percent of its full capacity."
Tarrin shot the doctor a flat look, hoping to convey just how little he understood.
The man chuckled, rubbing his temple. "Right. Let me break it down." He leaned forward slightly.
"As a Scarling—the first stage after awakening—your body gradually absorbs essence, reinforcing itself over time.
"How fast that happens depends on a few things: genetics, how much strain you put on your body, and how often you're exposed to raw essence."
Tarrin gave a slow nod. Alright, that makes more sense... I think.
"So, seventeen percent—" he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "That any good for two weeks in?"
The doctor hummed, tapping a few keys on his console.
"Not bad at all, actually. Especially considering that your body's full capacity is about twenty percent higher than the average Scarling."
Tarrin blinked. "Meaning?"
"Meaning it'll take you longer to reach full saturation, but your potential is a little higher than most."
The doctor leaned back, arms crossed. "If you were just sitting around doing nothing, it'd take about two years to fill out naturally. But something tells me you won't be taking it easy."
Tarrin scoffed. "Yeah, no chance."
The doctor nodded, then shifted gears. "Alright, next up—your Gift. Any idea how it works?"
Tarrin held back a sigh. Like hell I do. Isn't that your job? But he kept his expression neutral, offering the man a small, polite smile.
"No clue, doc. I don't feel any different, and I've got no idea how to activate it."
The doctor paused, then gave him a reassuring smile.
"That's not unusual. Plenty of Awakened take time to figure out their Gifts. But lucky for you, the scan might've picked up something interesting."
He turned the monitor toward Tarrin, tapping a few keys. The screen flickered to a display filled with strange readings.
"See this?" The doctor pointed at a pulsing section of the graph. "Your essence levels show signs of leakage—unnatural leakage. That usually means one thing."
Tarrin raised a brow. "Which is?"
"A passive Gift," the doctor said, leaning back. "It's running in the background, constantly active, without you even realizing it."
He keyed in another command, pulling up a different image—this one resembling a map of Tarrin's body, marked with faint glowing nodes.
"Now, check this out. These clusters here? Those are your glandular essence nodes. And see this?" He traced a faint energy trail.
"Your essence is interacting with them in an unusual way. Instead of just circulating normally, it's altering before it leaks out into the air."
Tarrin frowned. "Altering how?" The doctor tapped the screen.
"Best guess? It's converting into a unique type of pheromone. A subconscious influence, making you more... let's say, likable."
He shot Tarrin a knowing look. "Think of it as an aura, something that subtly pulls people toward you."
'What a joke. My Gift is making people like me? I could do that with words alone—didn't need some mystical power for it.'
Tarrin kept his face neutral, though the thought left a bitter edge in his mind.
"Alright, that concludes your evaluation," the doctor announced, his tone light. But there was something beneath it—something measured, weighty.
"Congratulations, Mr. Vex. You're fit for combat."
Tarrin met the doctor's gaze, his expression unreadable. "What's next?"
"Head back to the reception. They'll issue your military ID and brief you on your next steps."
Tarrin gave a short nod, rising to his feet without another word. His hand was already on the door handle when the doctor spoke again.
"Goodbye, Mr. Vex." A pause. Then, softer—almost resigned. "And best of luck out there, soldier."
Tarrin froze. Just for a second.
Then he pushed the door open and stepped out, leaving the words hanging in the sterile air behind him.
The bad taste in his mouth lingered. 'Maybe the doc wasn't so bad after all. Maybe I judged him too soon.'
Tarrin moved down the hallway, his footsteps echoing against the sterile floors. Before long, he found himself back at the reception desk where it had all started. The older clerk glanced up as he approached, his expression as unreadable as before.
"Hey, again," Tarrin said, keeping his tone light but measured. "Doctor said you'd have my next steps?"
The man nodded, already tapping away at his screen. "That's right." A few more keystrokes, a quick glance at whatever was on the monitor, then—"I'll have your military ID ready in a moment."
He paused, eyes flicking over the display again. Then, with a raised brow, he added, "Looks like today's your lucky day. The Loop is scheduled to arrive at the Merlen Commute Center in about four hours. You've got time to get there, but you should head out soon."
Tarrin nodded, but the shift in the clerk's tone told him the conversation wasn't over.
"And I don't have to remind you what happens if you miss it," the man said, voice suddenly heavier, laced with something more than just protocol. A warning.
Tarrin's smile was effortless. Easy. "No plans on deserting, if that's what you're worried about."
The clerk held his gaze for a beat longer, then exhaled through his nose and slid a freshly printed card across the counter. "Then everything's sorted."
Tarrin picked up the ID and gave it a quick once-over. His name, his rank—everything was official now.
No turning back.