“I’m sorry, I didn’t get that. Can you say it again?”
“I don’t have one.” I say a little louder.
He looks down at me through his glasses as if I annoy him. Like my being required to be here, getting tested for death, is interrupting his chance to get in on the juicy gossip.
“I don’t just mean if you have a top tier power; I need to notate your sin. No matter how common. Tell me now, girl.”
That’s it - Fuse blown. I may not have a sin, but I’m still Wrath, and I have the lack of patience and temperament to prove it. I’m sick of these grumpy proctors and smug little nurse assistants. I’m sick of everyone whispering behind my back, tiptoeing around me like I’m walking to the gallows every damn day of my life. And I’m definitely sick of repeating myself to this incompetent proctor…
“I said, I don’t have one, you dumbass!” I yell as I stand.
The machine beeps, signaling its completion. I turn to look, prepared to watch it tell this asswipe, along with the entire room, just how worthless I really am.
“100%,” it chirps in its pleasant little AI voice…well, shit.
3
Thou Shalt Not Trip Over Politics (or hems)
Arwen
It’s silent.
The only sound I hear is the soft hum of the machines churning in the background. I giggle out loud. Why am I giggling? I don’t giggle. Wraths don’t giggle. Wraths who are getting power tested with no manifested sin power… definitely don’t giggle. I am officially losing it.
I hear the familiar clacking of Dean Bellow’s heels slowly moving my way.
“Well, well...” she says, looking at the machine’s screen. “An 80 and a 100, what in the world are they feeding you Wraths in this city?”
Her eyes are sharp, piercing as she meticulously looks over my tattered shorts and t-shirt, but her face gives nothing away. She doesn’t look surprised, and she doesn’t look angry. She just looks... assessing. Like if she looks hard enough at this vessel in front of her, she’ll be able to see the power swirling in my veins.
“And what, pray tell, is your sin power, dear?” She snaps her fingers at the lead proctor, motioning him to the machine. He promptly runs over and starts switching the machines out to test me again, like they did with Brixton.
“She said she doesn’t have one,” the asswipe proctor in front of me scoffs.
“Was I speaking to you?” she replies in a scathing manner. “Leave us.”
He skulks away, clearly bemused to be missing more gossip on his shift. I think I may like this lady.
“You have not manifested a sin power… how interesting.” She looks over me with intrigue and not the disgust or skepticism that I am used to.
Oh yes.I think I may like this lady a lot.
“That’s correct, Dean Bellows,” I reply. “I have never manifested a sin power from any faction. I lack even simple enhancements of Wrath, and frankly, exile appeared likely today.”
If respect and innocence get me closer to any answers, all the better.
“Everyone out,” the Dean quips, and immediately the room clears. A boy still attached to his machine walks out slowly with his proctor wheeling the large metal monstrosity behind him. The last of the people in the room exits, and the door closes. Dean Bellows hasn’t taken her eyes off my face. I still can’t get a read on her.
“Stay here,” she says, spinning on her heel. She walks into the small office attached to the locker room. Once I’m alone, the gravity of the situation finally hits me. A 100% power level? It’s not possible. There’s no recording in history that I have heard of, in my feeble excuse of an education, that has anyone at a 100% power level. Something must be wrong. The machine should say 0. Maybe it’s confused because it has never encountered a sinless like me. What will happen to me now? I laugh internally as I remember I was ready to meet death just a few minutes ago. Now I’m left with more questions.
Cruel, cruel universe.I take back my thanks for the entertainment and drool-worthy specimen, Brixton.
The door clicks open. “Well, Arwen…”
How does she know my name? Then I see it. She has my file from the nurse assistant. The same file that says I don’t know how many sexual partners I have had in the past year. That fucking nurse. Now Dean Bellows is going to think I’m a slut and a sinless. So much for my respectful and innocent tone earlier. Thankfully, she spares me the embarrassment.
“We seem to be at an impasse. We have not experienced a situation like this in our prior years of testing.” That’s putting it mildly.
