A ripple coursed through the crowd as the next boy stepped forward. His hair — deep, burning red — caught the light like embers refusing to die. His pupils matched, a molten shade of crimson that seemed to bore straight through anyone who dared meet his gaze.
He moved with unshakable confidence, shoulders squared, each step deliberate. Unlike the others before him who trembled or hesitated, he carried himself as if the proving field were built solely for him.
He declared his presence in a less flashy style but still possessing te narcissistic vibe.
"Ray Talon." He introduced himself
The name struck like a hammer against steel. Several recruits exchanged nervous glances, some whispering the name and eagerly anticipating the performance of another member of the Six families from another family than the Ainsworths.
Void tilted his head, his expression unreadable behind the shadow of his shades.
"Another one from the Six" Void said and sighed.
The assistants adjusted the machine, their hands moving briskly over the console. The treadmill hummed to life once more, but this time the air seemed to bristle with something heavier. Expectation. Anticipation.
Ray glanced at the machine, then back at Void. He gave a single nod before stepping onto the treadmill.
The treadmill roared as Ray's strides grew heavier, faster, sharper. The console lights flared wildly before locking onto a final score.
8.1.
A gasp rippled across the recruits. Just a breath below Max. Heads shook in disbelief, some muttering bitterly under their breath.
Ray didn't even glance at the numbers. He stepped off the machine without a word and moved toward the next station.
The strength test.
A massive steel hammer lay waiting, its surface scarred from countless attempts. Ray gripped it with ease, his knuckles tightening. For a moment, silence. Then—
BOOM.
The impact shook the ground, the console beeping furiously as the machine processed the blow. Digits stuttered, then froze.
8.8.
The field erupted. Mouths fell open. Some recruits staggered back in shock. A few girls near the front gasped so hard they fainted outright, caught clumsily by their friends.
Even Void reacted — his shades shifted, fingers pressing them tighter against his face as though to hide the spark of interest in his eyes.
But Ray? He only rolled his shoulders, calm as ever, and strode to the endurance test.
The machine buzzed as the sensors strapped against his arms and chest. Minutes dragged. His breaths came steady, his posture unbroken. Finally, the screen blinked to life.
8.4.
The assistants exchanged glances, whispering to each other.
And then, the last test. The one everyone feared.
Magic capacity.
Ray stood before the crystalline console, placing both hands upon it. The device flared with blinding light, feeding hungrily on the power coursing through his veins. The crowd shielded their eyes.
When the glow faded, the number stood tall and merciless.
8.9.
The field descended into stunned silence. No muttering, no disbelief — only the sound of hundreds of hearts racing at once.
Ray lifted his hands slowly, stepped back, and looked toward Void.
He nodded once, almost curt, then returned to his place.
Void exhaled deeply,
"So the Talons still breed monsters."
---
Void exhaled deeply,
"So the Talons still breed monsters."
For a moment, no one moved. The silence hung heavy, pressing down like a storm cloud ready to break. Then the murmurs began, low, defeated, bitter.
Some recruits clenched their fists, others stared at the ground, dispirited and cursing their own mediocrity. Ray's performance had crushed more their egos.
Before the tension could fade, another figure stepped forward.