10: Education Is A Scam

Gravel crunches under the tires of Eir's car as we arrive on an expansive, snowy field. A series of blue tents stretch along the edge of the parking lot, with many long lines sprawling out from them.

The field is cordoned off into large, rectangular sections, corresponding to each tent. Identical objects litter each section, including rusting school buses, cars, weights, and blocks in a variety of sizes and materials. Additionally, there are large, inflatable kiddie pools and even sandy and rocky areas. All this clutter scattered about reminds me of a children's daycare's play area with toys flung about, except super sized… and hazardous.

Looking at the size of the crowd from just our region, I don't know if anyone's application got rejected. I bet that they just initially accept everyone to have them take the test.

Scanning the crowd, I get the feeling that the academy and this exam has a significantly different purpose than simply providing a measure of strength and training. It just doesn't make sense to me otherwise.

The cost is prohibitively high, so the vast majority get weeded out on that alone, while the scholarships are reserved for the exceptional students the academy can't afford to miss.

If almost no one can afford to attend — which is likely intentional — yet so many get lured here with the hope of a scholarship and the promise of an easy life, fame, and wealth; what is their true aim?

Eir pulls into a parking lot and we get out of her car, slamming the doors shut. Struan takes a glance at me as I clamber out.

"Are you okay?" Struan asks.

"Nervous?" Eir asks.

I jolt out of my thoughts. I didn't realize I've been scowling. "This is all a scam, isn't it?"

"Hey… You can take it easy and watch us take it first, if that helps," Eir says.

"No, I mean that they lure people here with false promises, too good to be true, yet indirectly reject people with absurd costs," I say.

"That doesn't make it a scam. They just don't have enough resources for all of us. Supers only appeared ten years ago, and the academy was only established eight years ago, so their costs make sense," Eir says, soothingly. "They're still trying to expand to accommodate more supers, and quite a few graduates have become rich."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, please. Think about it a bit more, will ya? Those people were already rich to begin with, or exceptional enough that they would have gotten rich without the academy. The government purposely tries to get as many people as possible to want to take the exam — far more than they have room for in the academy."

"That's just to identify top talent to offer them a scholarship. They're not forcing anyone to take the exam," she says.

"Well, I think it's all under the guise of identifying, monitoring, and tracking supers. They also make people want to take the exam for recognition of their abilities or to officially see how they measure up to other supers." I slowly scan the area. "It looks like this exam also serves as a recruitment hub, but that, I believe, is fairly innocent."

Eir looks at me with disbelief, so I continue.

"For those not motivated by that type of external validation, I would go as far as to say that I bet the academy mainly exists for baiting people to out themselves as supers through their sugar sweet promises, getting far more people to take the exam than seats to be filled," I say.

"You're reading waaay too much into this," Eir says.

"Well, you can think what you want, but I'm not buying it," I say. "I wouldn't even be surprised if the ID cards they give for this have some sort of tracking mechanism."

As we walk across the gravel parking lot, someone points us to a tent and gives us each a stack of pamphlets.

I flip through the pamphlets.

"Make $5,827 a day streaming and never work a day in your life!"

"Eagle Super Academy! Invest in your future!"

"Diets don't work! How to lose weight in 7 days — with Ultraburn!"

"How to make it as a superhero!"

"Ever wanted to be an actor? Join Xtreme Stunts!"

I scoff and look at Eir with a raised eyebrow, to which she shrugs but doesn't seem to mind. I definitely do, though. This almost certainly screams "scam" to me.

Honestly, I'm starting to change my mind already. If not for Struan, by now I would have donned my white suit and mask and challenged everyone here to fight me or be slowly tortured to death — that would be a much better use of these desperate or hopeful fools. Who knows, maybe I'd finally find someone more fun to fight than Eir.

The Eagle Super Academy's pamphlets have some annoying drivel — something along the lines of how great the academy is, how great a graduate's future will be, and justification for their cost of attendance.

Obviously, I'm super enthralled as I toss them into the nearest trash bin with a flutter.

In all honesty, just looking around these grounds, what it really looks like is a glorified celebrity training factory.

While walking to our assigned tent, Struan points out some small text on his phone from our application acceptance; saying that if we enroll, then we consent to being monitored while on the school grounds and while doing school activities for the sake of research.

I silently nod at him, glad that he is confirming my suspicions, and he slides his phone away.

***** ***** *****

"Next! Zelia Blau!" A short woman bundled in a puffy green uniform announces in a strict voice. She holds a tablet with a pen, and exudes authority despite her size — but I'd say she just looks overly serious and maybe a bit constipated.

We're all lined up along our section of the field with the next batch of examinees for this tent, waiting our turn.

An incredibly bored-looking girl swaggers up. Matching her expression and the monochrome winter landscape, her clothes are gray and drab, with faded out jeans that barely retain any color. The only color on her is the bright blue streak in her otherwise dark, shoulder length hair, but it really doesn't suit her.

She slowly blows a bubble with her pink gum and loudly pops it, maintaining her bovine expression and chewing her gum like a cow chewing cud.

The unornamented Christmas tree of a staff worker continues on as if she doesn't see that this girl looks like she would rather be anywhere else. She confirms Zelia's details and instructs her to stand in front of a white screen for an ID photo before beginning the exam.

"State your powers, then begin," Susan, the staff member, barks.

"Irukandji Syndrome…" Zelia barely says, as if just speaking is too cumbersome to bother with.

Zelia just stands around for a while, not moving or showing any indication of using her power.

"Well?" Susan demands.

"Give me a bit… Jeez…They're not fast," the girl grumbles in her unexpectedly melodic voice, and blankly stands around some more.

The employee impatiently tap-taps her pen on the edge of the tablet. When it looks like Susan is about to say something more, true to her word, Zelia's ability bubbles to life.

Bursts of fluorescent color bloom above the snow, gently floating up like balloons. More and more appear until the entire section of the field is dotted in vibrant color; yet the trampled snow remains undisturbed, as if invisible portals summoned the orbs forth.

As they ascend, their true shape is revealed — jellyfish, of countless shapes, sizes, and colors. Each pulse of light from the jellyfish sends a gleaming ripple down its tentacles. After most reach about ten feet in altitude from the ground, the rest rise no more, stopping at whatever height they've reached. Scattered at various elevations, they decorate the air, and their tentacles sway in the breeze like thin, festive streamers.

We all look on in awe, the show even gathering the attention of the other sections. Many people have their phones out, recording.

"Hey… unornamented Christmas tree… if this isn't good enough for you… you can touch" — Zelia deeply yawns, halfheartedly covering her mouth with the tips of her fingers, then rubs her eyes — "... you can touch them…"

Susan reaches out for the strands hanging below a purple, pulsating dome; childlike wonder etched on her face, erasing all traces of her previous strictness.

"... if you want to experience extreme pain… maybe… death too…" Zelia continues, in no hurry, as she wasn't quite done speaking yet.

The petite woman quickly jerks her hand back and glares at Zelia. She then sighs and taps away at her tablet, then tells the examinee that her display was good enough. She points and instructs Zelia to report to the red tent in front of all the other tents to receive her ID.

Zelia saunters off, flipping off the random people that try to recruit her as she makes her way to the red tent among the sea of blue.

The ethereal shapes slowly fade out and vanish as quietly and unintrusively as they came.

Everyone stands in silence for a few moments, unwilling to interrupt the sedated atmosphere of wonder. By comparison, now, the field still littered with objects seems austere.

"..."

"Next! Burl Woods!"

Of course. Susan didn't seem like she could truly appreciate the little things.

A tanned, muscular man walks forward, his muscles still discernible despite his bulky winter clothes. As with Zelia, his details are confirmed and he stands for a picture.

"State your powers, then begin," she barks.

"My power… is, uh… boobs," he says, his voice uncertain despite his robust build. "Can anyone— Is anyone willing to volunteer?"