Liam glanced up from his seat as another person walked into the room. The newcomer, one of Liam’s classmates, turned rivals for the night, avoided the gazes directed at him. Dropping his head, he hastened his pace to an empty seat. Collapsing into the thing with a long sigh, lost in his own thoughts. The night had been rough on him. Yet he wasn’t alone. Many of the other students wore the same expression.

Liam would love to see how everyone approached the mansion. Whether it was Leeroy Jenkins’ style, or stealthily like he did. He could learn a lot by analyzing what worked and what didn’t, unfortunately he wasn’t given the chance.

Instead, he created a score card. Four years of work culminated in tonight’s test. Making it easy-to-read everyone as they finished. Noting the newcomer’s demeanor, Liam chalked up his results as a failure. It’d become a little game for Liam. Keeping a running tally of everyone’s reactions as they arrived. It gave him the idea of how many people passed the final and where he stood in all of it.

From what he’d seen, sixteen people passed and twenty-eight failed, or were on the borderline. Not out of expectations, the pressure of the test would drive anyone with a borderline result to worry.

Even Liam, who’d completed the test, felt the pressure. At first he thought his results were strong, sure there were a few mishaps during the test, but he’d recovered. As more people finished, he lost that confidence. It’d only take a few people outscoring him to disrupt everything. Not a cheery thought with everything that went into tonight. And by Liam’s count, sixteen people were happy with their results. Any of them might jump past him. There was no way to know until the final scores were tallied. All of which, just added to the pressure.

Glancing at the newcomer again, Liam found him cradling his head between his hands. Rocking back and forth to a slow rhythm he muttered something under his breath. Nothing to worry about there, Liam confirmed.

Looking over the rest of the room, Liam found most people staying to themselves. Lost to their own thoughts. With many of those who looked confident when they arrived, starting to show doubt. Their relaxed bodies becoming more rigid with every passing moment. A few beginning to tap their feet out of a nervous tick.

Things would be close, everyone realized that. But all they could do was sit and wait.

The room the class found themselves in was large. Two basketball courts in length and another in width. The ceiling twenty feet above them. Large enough to accommodate the entire group with ease.

Stiff cushioned black chairs were arranged in tidy rows throughout the space. People were already filling most of them. A dull gray carpet stretched out underneath them, matching the surrounding walls. The muffled decor amplified everyone’s anxiety. The only brightness in the room came from a small painting near the entrance. It depicted an idyllic beach with vivid blue waves washing onto pure white sand.

This wasn’t how Liam would’ve designed a waiting room. They needed to put a little more thought into calming nerves. Not the bare minimum, single painting, like whoever designed this place. Liam decided the room needed a few plants to help lighten things. Maybe some roses would work.

The seats filled around him, one at a time. There was an occasional joke or question from the new arrivals, but most remained quiet. Waiting with whatever patience they could find. Unsure of what came next.

Liam didn’t talk to anyone as he sat there. Instead, he focused on repairing the sleeve screen. Its failure had almost cost him tonight. He couldn’t have a similar issue in the future. Next time it would be a real mission and not a test. Where the stakes would be so much higher.

The repair lasted a couple hours, but ended in failure. Regardless of what Liam tried, he couldn’t find what was causing the issue. In all honesty, the repair was more of a distraction than an actual attempt fixing what went wrong. Something it was performing wonderfully.

Though Liam’s focus occasionally slipped. Each time his mind would fall back to the test and what he could’ve done differently. It was too early for that, Liam kept telling himself. Once he received the results, he would evaluate his performance. But for now it was about learning his placement.

After another hour, the last student entered. She walked with a noticeable limp. One of her pants legs burned off around the knee. Her face bruised like she’d been through the ringer. Yet as the door closed behind her, she let out an exhausted sigh, a broad smile stretched across her face. Quietly taking the last open seat. Another person passing the test Laim thought as he set his tools down. Though it looked like she had a more action packed time than he did.

The class settled down as they waited for whatever came next. All one hundred students together for what was likely the last time. A little over half would remain after tonight. The academy would kick out the rest. Wiping their memories right before graduation, it was a cruel, but necessary step in their line of work. Only the best and brightest were allowed to make the final cut. Lives would be counting on it.

The class didn’t have to wait long as another set of doors opened moments later. Letting in an elderly woman. She was in her late 70s, but had an air of command about her. And so she should, Laura Hartwell was the head of the academy after all. Deserving of all the respect that came with it.

She made her way to the center of the room. The class sat up at attention, waiting to hear what she had to say. With every step the very air around her rippled as if bowing in her presence.

Reaching the middle of the room she stopped. Taking a second for her eyes to travel across all the students present, before she spoke, “Thank you for the hard work you’ve put into this program. To say the last four years were difficult would be a disservice to all of you. The challenges you faced were meant to test you mentally and physically. Allowing only the best and brightest to make it to this point. When I look around, that’s who I see. I’m so proud of every one of you for making it this far.”

The class remained quiet, but Liam could see chests sticking out, backs straightening up, and eyes brightening. Praise from Ms. Hartwell was rare and much sought after.

“Our calling has been around for nearly one hundred years. From the times of Touch and the Bank-Breaker. To those of the Silver era. Many things have changed over the years, but one will always stay the same. And that’s the people who carry the mantle.”

Ms. Hartwell spread her hands, encompassing the entire room around her. Letting the pause grow before she spoke again.

“All of you have proven you can carry the mantle, but as you know we can only graduate sixty students a year. In a moment, your names will be called and you will talk with either me or a counselor. We’ll share with you your final placement and what that means for the future. Please know, even if you failed there is a path forward that we’ll be happy to discuss with you.”

With her short speech over Ms. Hartwell walked out of the room. The students watched her go with worry, hope, and a hundred other emotions etched across their faces. Yet no one spoke. They voiced no questions or concerns. Everyone was just waiting for the placements that followed.

As Ms. Hartwell made her way through the doors, an overhead speaker sounded, calling students forward in alphabetical order. Liam knew it would take some time before they got to him. To keep his mind occupied, he went back to his repairs, knowing full well he wouldn’t make any progress.

Students left the waiting area every few minutes, but none ever returned. The administration didn’t want them discussing who made the final cut. Logically it made sense to Liam, but he wanted to know. Any bit of information could hold a hint at his place, but none came. Eventually the doors opened and a familiar name was called “Miller, Liam”. With a silent wish, Liam stood up and walked towards the exit. It was his turn to find out his fate.