Graduation Exam (iii)

Planet: Tarsonis

Year:2529

Place: First Military Academy

-- Jun 11, 2529 - Confederate calendar - Day of the graduation exam --

Some time had passed, and this first exam group was nearing its end.

Mark stood on top of the northeast building with his head held high and his rifle mag full. '20 rounds, 3 people, 5 minutes,' thought Mark. His eyes rose to the monitor, his teeth clicked when 3 turned to 5, and their GPS's appeared for all to see.

'Of course, an idiot failed to confirm their kill. Anyway, let's assess the situation. In the center of the bridge, there's one female pinned in a car. Across from her, the display monitor shows another recruit, and behind below there those two fucks just woke up.

If I go down to eliminate, them this girl pushes me. Causing me to be pinned between 3 people. However, the person behind her will push her. And with me here she'd be in a 2v1 again. But If I stay one of them could push me, trapping me between 2 people...'

Mark paused. His eyes darted between the girl on his right and the door on his left. Shortly after a sigh escaped his lips while his words played over the PA system. "If I'm fucked, so are they."

The audience watched as he charged across the bridge weaving from car to car, dodging bullet after bullet. The recruits smirked, his target's guns were empty.

"What's he doing?" Asked a few, watching him run past the girl. Samir's laughter rang across the auditorium, the guards would beat but he no longer cared. "This guy's petty," said Samir, his words garnered nodded from most. "This guy's petty."

They watched as he charged the last recruit, spraying bullet after bullet to keep him pinned. When his rifle ran out, he threw the gun then slide to a car. His target roared before charging him with a rifle in arm.

His eye's widened as Mark blind fired from beyond the car. Although the first and second shots missed, the third hit his knee, the fourth his stomach, and the fifth his shoulder. His last words were, "you're n-n-not su-ppp-osed to blind fire."

They earned a scoff from Mark, whose eyes never left the girl within the car. She watched as he stood, walked to the door. Opened it, then fired into her chest. 'There one more person,' thought the recruits. Watching the last recruit charge onto the bridge.

He watched as Mark grinned while placing the pistol at his temple. 'I got one bullet left. And he never said winning helped my grade. So, I wonder if suicide will?'

"Don't you dare!" Snapped the boy.

*BANG!*

The crowd went silent. They didn't think he could but Mark did it, he fired.

The round ended. Popovich's fake blonde-haired blue-eyed face covered the massive circle monitor. "Well, that was surprising," smiled Popovich looking down upon the recruits. Mark's actions made them contemplate their approach to today's exam.

Yet Popovich's words regathered their attention. "I thank you, young soldiers, for giving the confederacy your most valiant effort. Later this week we'll be holding a funeral of sorts for those who have fallen in today's exam. As for your marks, well be withholding them. But worry not! Those who fail within the 45-49th percentile will be given a second chance..."

Popovich paused. The screen replaced his face with the id of the next group. "In a few moments, all conscious and unconscious recruits will have been removed from the arena. When that happens an alarm will sound, signaling those participating to enter. But until then feel free to strategize. Oh! And kids this is an exam, communication is forbidden. Going forward all recruits must dawn their psi-screen to block out outside thoughts."

Finished Popovich. The kids saluted, seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours, group after the group completed the second portion of their exam. Yet none of them were as entertaining as the first.

However, eventually. The basics would end, then the intermediate. Recruits and views alike would leave to go do other tasks. Before long it was the elites' turn! So everyone returned, rejuvenated to watch the elite...the sixty elite.

#An: If you forgot the elite recruits are all the kids from Suki's restructured psionic class in chapter 17.#

As the viewers regathered the facilities replayed again and again. "Attention young recruits! This section of today's exam will take place with the sectioned off northeast and northwest section of the arena. Failure to stay within these sections will result in failure.

Failure to...failure to...failure to..."

"Urgh we get it,' Thought Bryce. He and the rest stood blindfolded within different parts of the northeast and west arena.

"You may now remove your blindfold," said the a.i.

At the sound of her artificial voice, the kids ripped their blindfolds off before sprinting for the nearest houses.

The audience leaned as the camera panned over to Bryce, who burst through the backdoor only just as another charged through the front.

'Cleo,' sneered Bryce. Staring upon the light-skinned boy in front of him, he was one of Caesar's followers. The two eyed each other with dangerous intent. Their hands moved within inches of their pistols. While psionic energy bursts throughout their body.

It didn't take a mindread to understand, these boys were out for blood.

When Cleo's hand twitched, Bryce's hand shot up, in it was his pistol. Bang! Bang! Bryce fired, but Cleo's psionic speed activated. He stepped to the right, as both shots came within inches of his face Cleo just grinned were Bruce frowned.

"I'm gonna enjoy dangle your corpse for all to see," said Cleo. Bryce scoffed charging into the living room. With his pistol holstered and psionic energy at its apex.

Cleo raised his hands while Bryce bent a knee, meters from the couch. He dove over the couch with the help of psionic speed. His shoulder crashed into Cleo tackling him to the ground.

Bryce mounted Cleo, who raised his hands to establish his guard. "That's not gonna save you," Bryce said. His fists rained down through Cleo's guard, breaking it in moments.

Yet the boy held strong. He gathered some energy, kept his fists tight. Then rained into Bryce while enduring the blows. As his psionic speed began to activate, his fists resembled slingshots. Yet Bryce just took it, laughing in the face of Cleo's onslaught.

"Oh god. Your punches are pathetic!" Said Bryce, his laughter shook the audience. Who sat there stunned as the boys went on and on, and on.

Cleo gathered his psionic energy, firing waves into Bryce's head. Stunning him long enough to break up the back and forth onslaught.

The recruits watched as the two stood with swollen faces and enraged eyes. Cleo stepped towards Bryce, firing a quick left, right jab then a left again. However, Bryce leaned back, dodging to the right, left then right again. Grinning as if he could read Cleo's every thought.

"Raawrrr!" Roared Cleo, pressing forward. Only to receive a swift straight kick to his jaw. "You're short, slow, and weak. Really why were you allowed into the elite section? Some of the intermediates look better than you," said Bryce.

His words enraged Cleo further. They caused his thoughts to become more and more transparent, allowing Bryce's low grade 6 psionic power to pick up on his thoughts even more.

"Do know why I'm in the elite program!" Mumbled Bryce, repeating Cleo's words as he said them. Leaning to the right when Cleo raised his palm. Rolling his eyes at the sight of Cleo's candlestick fireball.

Cleo's eyes widened, Bryce press forward. He fired a quick right uppercut, then left hook. Cleo staggered back. His vision blurred as Bryce pressed forward. Gripping Cleo's collar before firing punch after punch into Cleo's face.

The audience leaned in as his knucks bled punching into Cleo's face. "I hope Rishul comes across your mangled corpse after I'm done," whispered Bryce. His words inspired Cleo to make one last effort but his thoughts were still open for even Bryce to see.

"Raaaawwwrr!"

Cleo released a wide wave of fire from out of his mouth. But Bryce stepped back, grinning while Cleo's flame fell just short of his face. Stepping forward as the flames died, and Cleo hit the floor in exhaustion.

Bryce looked down upon Cleo, who huffed and puffed before raising his head. Only to be greeted by the sight of a psionic speed enhanced foot.