Chapter song: Take the Money and Crawl - Green Day
As he neared the capital, he joined a crowd heading toward the town square, relieved to find others enrolling alongside him. Officials directed them to lines for document signing and ability tests.
The process was quick and efficient, with barely an hour passing by. It was now Kenneth's turn. The man who looked to be in his late thirties cast him a quick glance, "Name, address, race and registration status, please."
Now that he had access to all this information, Kenneth finally understood what all this race and type business was about. In this world, humans were divided into two races: Human, which meant an average person, and E-Human, which meant a person with enhanced abilities.
Kenneth fell under the second category, meaning he was superior to the average person. People started to manifest these abilities at the age of fifteen, but their powers didn't fully develop until twenty. It was precisely the reason why enhanced humans were required by the state to enrol in specialized schools to learn how to hone their abilities safely and use their power for the safety and betterment of their country. There were quite a few specialized schools scattered across the country, but the best school was Toleran Academy, especially for those who wanted to use their abilities combatively.
Unfortunately, it was a hard school to get into since it was so selective with its candidates. There were three screenings that needed to be completed before their enrollment was completed. And this was the first one.
He handed his ID card to the man. A virtual display screen then hung in front of them, and Kenneth watched as his information was imputed into their system. Seeing the virtual screen displayed in the air made him feel a little strange. It still hadn't sunken in that this was his new reality. Conflict brewed within him, though he didn't let it show. His face remained expressionless and devoid of recognizable thoughts.
"Please transfer 25 units before completing your registration."
He lifted his brows. Nowhere in Kenneth's memory did it show that you needed to pay a fee to register. Looking to his left, he heard another administrator ask the same question, and the person opened their V Watch and transferred the units without any problems.
Normally, Kenneth would've left right then and there. This was information he had no knowledge about, and he wanted to know where his money would be going. Before coming here, he made sure to check his current balance and saw that the previous Kenneth had 450 units in his account. He was unsure whether that was too little or too much, though his intuition told him it was the former rather than the latter. He was glad that he had his memories; otherwise, he wouldn't have known how to pay.
Since he didn't want to draw any attention to himself, he transferred the owed amount. Once the payment went through, the man sent him a copy of his form as well as the number of the compound he'd be taking his second screening in.
"Take this as well," he handed him an orange bracelet,"This will let the people know that you've passed the first step of enrolment. In the event that you don't get in, the units will be transferred back to your account. The Cyborg will now guide you to the testing tents." The man said, gesturing towards the Cyborg in question.
Kenneth looked at said Cyborg and realized that this droid was different compared to the ones he'd seen at the library. These droids looked more human-like and spoke with more feeling. Kenneth didn't know whether this was a good or bad thing, but he followed the Cyborg that led him directly to Compound B.
"Please wait for the instructor inside to let you in." It said before leaving.
Kenneth stood there completely dumbfounded. All he could do was use this opportunity to look around and get further acquainted with the place. The compounds, placed close together, housed a disciplined crowd overseen by droids at each checkpoint. Kenneth estimated around 400 people in line, unsure how many would qualify for Toleran Academy. Remembering Kenneth's memories, he knew it was a school for the exceptionally gifted, a challenge he embraced as an anchor.
With no family expectations, he decided to take his chances. If he succeeded, it meant stability and education as well as being paired with a good striker; failure meant he'd find another path. The thought of Kenneth's casual approach to life made him shake his head, but he understood that, barely an adult, the previous Kenneth hadn't planned much.
Interrupted from his thoughts, he entered the compound where a young man awaited. Xander, a young man in his mid-thirties with striking white hair, brown skin and pale eyes that carried some distance yet possessed some warmth despite his serious demeanour.
The young man looked up from his documents and silently assessed Kenneth as he walked in. Unlike others, Kenneth didn't react outwardly. He carried a strong aura, unlike his outside appearance.
Xander, the academy's second youngest instructor, noted his calm demeanour. Expecting him to relax, he found him vigilant, hinting at hidden strength. Reviewing his file, he noted his frail frame that hid an underlying resolve. As he observed him, Kenneth took in the inside of the compound. It was white and sterile. There was a desk in the corner and a chair similar to the ones you'd find in an infirmary or a hospital. But what caught his eye was the machine at the very centre of the room. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen.
Interrupting his thoughts, Xander explained the assessment process. "Hello, Mr Grey. I'm Xander White, your assessor today. You'll place your hand on the testing machine to determine your class. C or higher is required to pass."
Kenneth nodded, attentive. "Understood."
"Any questions?" Xander asked.
"Yes. What happens after I pass?" Kenneth's question caught Xander off guard, his confidence implying he expected success.
Xander chuckled softly, surprised by his earnestness. He composed himself, meeting his unwavering gaze with a hint of amusement still lingering in his eyes. "If you pass, you'll be registered as an anchor in our system and will get the chance to officially enrol in our academy. Not only that, but you'll have the potential of choosing your own speciality once you've unlocked your powers as well as finding yourself a compatible partner."
"...That's quite a lot of benefits."
Xander's smile deepened. "It is. Our school isn't rated the best for nothing. Now, shall we begin?"
Kenneth could only nod as he was guided towards the blinking machine. He watched as Xander placed his thumb, followed by his index finger, over the glass screen. As soon as the device turned green, he turned to look at him, his pale eyes shining with excitement.
"Please place your index finger over the screen and refrain from moving once you do."
Kenneth's eyes narrowed. "What happens if I do?"
The assessor could detect a hint of wariness in his voice. His face softened. "Nothing will happen to you physically if that's what you're worried about. It'll just disrupt the test, and we'll have to start over."
The young man realized he was being overly cautious, but in his line of work, there was no such thing. They were taught to be vigilant and question everything. Still, he realized he'd have to tone in down a little if he wanted to fit in here. He gave Xander a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I'm just a little nervous."
"Hm. Why do I find that hard to believe?"
Kenneth didn't know what to make of that, so he decided to be quiet and do as he was told. The glass screen felt cold to the touch, and the minute he placed his finger on its smooth surface, he felt a jolt of electricity run through his skin. It wasn't a small shock either, but a piercing one that left a tingle in his body and his mouth tasting like pennies. Still, despite the discomfort this feeling brought him, the man didn't move.
Xander, who'd been carefully observing the screen, noticed how Kenneth didn't flinch or react to the jolt. He found this curious. "Don't worry, this is just the electrons opening the nodes from the Vital Impulse Transference Array in your body so we can have a better visual of what's going on on a cellular level."
Vital Impulse Transference Array, otherwise known as the VITA. This was the direct source of every enhanced human power. That was as far as this body's knowledge on the subject went. Even his knowledge about Anchors and enhanced humans was limited. Though Kenneth didn't ask exactly what VITA was, Xander, as if reading his mind, began explaining the concept.
"It's essentially an energy system everyone has from birth. Think of it like a mutation in your genes. Those who have it have the potential of becoming enhanced humans. Though there have been cases where people possessed this mutated gene but drew very little power from it. Strikers channel VITA in high-intensity bursts while Anchors regulate it."
"What's the difference between channelling and regulating?" Kenneth asked.
Xander, with his eyes still on the screen, pursed his lips as he contemplated the best way to answer this question.
"Think of it like an outlet," he said. "The outlet is always connected to a power source. That's your VITA. But on its own, it doesn't do anything until something draws from it. A striker is like the device being charged; they pull large surges of energy from the source and convert it into action. They are explosive, direct, immediate."
He paused, glancing briefly at Kenneth, who was listening intently. "An anchor, on the other hand, is like the voltage regulator in the wall. They don't create energy or use it in bursts. They control the flow, keep it steady, and balanced. Without an anchor, that current would burn the circuit out."
"I see. So you can't have one without the other," Kenneth concluded.
A glimmer appeared in his eyes as the corner of his lips lifted. "Exactly. Don't worry, these are all things you are going to learn in your theory classes, if you get in, of course."
Right.
After another minute had gone by, the machine started to beep. His results were ready.
"Now, let's see if you passed," the man muttered under his breath. The machine had two sides to it. One screen Kenneth could see, and another that was only visible to the assessor.
As Xander walked to the other side of the machine, Kenneth studied him carefully. He looked at the way his brows creased, the way his nose wrinkled and the way his lips folded into a thin line. His eyes then moved to his body. Xander was a man of average height with a thinner frame. Still, he was lean, and Kenneth could tell he was a trained man just from the way he walked, the way he stood, the way he moved. With precision that couldn't be learned unless taught.
His curiosity for him grew. He wondered if all the assessors were like him.
"Hm, it looks like your previous bravado wasn't unwarranted. You've managed to pass, and with flying colours too."
"Did I?"
The man nodded, turning the screen so that he could see his results. He couldn't understand a single thing there. He saw a picture of what appeared to be part of the brain, more than likely the part of his brain that contained this VITA nonsense, as well as diagrams with varying levels. His gaze then moved to the top left of the screen, where he saw a whopping A written in big, bold, white colours.
A? And all he needed was a C? Kenneth was beyond surprised, and so was his assessor.
"...Has anyone ever gotten that high a score before?"
"As an anchor?" Xander leaned back, still studying the data." The best I've ever seen was B. And that's one of the best scores you can get, meaning you can converge with most Strikers in the A to B class."
"So by that logic," Kenneth said slowly, "my compatibility with Strikers is even higher than that? As in, I can converge with more of them?"
Xander tilted his head, thinking. "Yes and no. You'll be able to sync with more Strikers in theory, but ultimately it will depend on your individual compatibility score with each one. Some pairs just click, others don't. You're a high-class Anchor, which means you can handle the energy output of a high-class Striker. But the reverse isn't always true. You'll probably get matched with someone who scores close to your class."
"Is there a difference between a compatibility score and rank?"
"Yes. The Anchor rank measures your capacity, how much energy you can handle. The compatibility score measures your match rate with specific Strikers. A small but very important distinction."
Kenneth nodded slowly. "I see. And what are the chances of me finding a Striker close to my level?"
It was a fair question as well as an important one. From what he remembered of the original Kenneth's memories, an Anchor needed a Striker just as much as a Striker needed an Anchor. Their bond wasn't just cooperative; it was symbiotic, almost parasitic. Without the other, both sides suffered. Strikers, especially, faced the risk of burnout, mental collapse, even depression—and those were only the milder consequences.
A knowing look flickered across Xander's face.
"A compatibility that high is rare," he admitted, " but it's not impossible." In fact, someone immediately came to mind, but mentioning that person would violate protocol and private regulations, so he kept the thought to himself.
Kenneth's lips pressed into a thin line. He hoped that would be the case.
Seeing the doubt on his face, Xander offered a reassuring smile. "These are things you can worry about later," he said. "For now, your focus should be on yourself, learning what it means to be an Anchor and a fighter. You'll spend your first year honing your control, refining your instincts, and pushing your limits. We'll teach you how to handle your power properly, how to reach your full potential, and how to apply what you learn efficiently in the field."
Kenneth wasn't sure if any of that would be useful to him. After all, he had a military background. He didn't know what this place had in store for him, but he knew if he could survive Selections, he could survive this, and that thought made his blood pump with excitement.
When he finished speaking, they made their way toward the station for final registration. Xander explained that today marked the last day of recruitment and that they would depart for the Academy tomorrow morning. Once Kenneth completed his registration, he was free to spend the rest of the day as he pleased, but he was expected back by 9 AM for departure.