Compared to the skyscrapers found in most major cities, the ‘tower’ at the centre of the zone could barely be called such. Sitting at eleven stories of elegant brickwork and reflective glass, it was by far the tallest building in the zone, rivalled only by the radio tower where my A-rank was located.

It stuck out like a smoke stack in an open field, and what surrounded it might as well have been an open field, as far as we were concerned.

The space around the tower was bereft of any other buildings for at least five hundred metres, instead boasting three concentric rings of different terrain radiating out from the tower like ripples in a pond.

The first ring, closest to us, was a wide cobblestone pathway, dotted with benches and picnic tables. The middle ring was the largest by far, a park-like area filled with grass, bushes, trees, and a smattering of ponds, none of which were substantial enough to hide twenty teenagers. The last ring circled the tower itself, and it consisted of barely fifty metres of simple pavement; an empty parking lot fed by a road on almost the opposite side of the tower to where we waited.

Surrounding the circle on all sides were massive terraced buildings of white brick, each standing at four stories with countless windows looking out onto the area. The tower would’ve been completely enclosed if not for just six roads breaking the circle, allowing access to the circle of space.

In other words, a lot of distance to cross, plenty of places for saboteurs to hide, and very little cover.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the small crowd of people who’d gathered outside the tower itself.

I let out a long breath, and it was much shakier than I would’ve liked. I almost cursed myself for it, but bit the impulse back. If there was ever one moment in my life where I needed to keep my composure, it was now.

Looking over my shoulder, I took in the people behind me. They were all bunched together, packing in close enough to be almost shoulder-to-shoulder. I’d moved ahead a bit to get a better look at what we were in for, while the thrust of our group remained a few metres behind. Cat, as I was coming to expect from her, had shadowed me all the way.

Twenty-two people had seen our alliance through to the end, including myself. A good few of them had finished their tasks ages ago, but stuck with us anyway. Maybe it was just self-preservation, or maybe some were just too scared to leave, or they saw strength in numbers as more useful than going alone, or any number of cynical explanations. But I was content to tell myself otherwise. A sense of honour kept some of them here. It had to.

They were good people. My heart swelled with pride and hope, because, at the very least, I could say about one in four of the examinees in my testing group treated heroism how it deserved. If there was that much good in the world still, we’d be fine.

There was a range of clear emotions among the group, from nervousness and fear to anticipation and excitement. Whatever they were feeling, there was one thing in common between them all: their eyes were fixed on me.

The weight of responsibility settled on me. There were plenty of elements that were out of my control, I knew that, but it still felt like it was my responsibility to make sure these guys made it to the end. These were the people who deserved to spend the next four years at Aegis Academy.

“This is it,” I said, just loud enough to be heard. “I know it looks like absolute madness to try and cross the park now that we can see what we’re dealing with, but we’ve come way too far to let something like this stop us. We’ve completed over two-hundred tasks. What the hell is one more?”

“Pretty difficult task,” a girl said. Short in stature, straight blond hair falling over her shoulders and, most distinctively, the tips of her fingers trailing off into green smoke.

The girl from the first task we completed, right at the start. Helga, was it?

“It is,” I agreed. “But they were never going to let the test go by without an actual challenge. None of the tasks posed a real threat to our group. This is the last test. The final hurdle. They want to see how we handle it.” I turned, eyes panning over the scene, picking out vantage points that would give a good view of our approach. “There’s more to these tests than what they tell us outright. Has been from the start. They’re not just watching for who can complete the most tasks or get to the tower fastest, they’re looking at how we do it. They dangle bait, tempting the more ruthless among us.”

I faced the group once more. “This is about character. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

“Do you think…” Billy started, then seemed to wilt as people turned to him. He swallowed. “Does that… go the other way?”

I smirked. “I sure as fuck hope so, Billy. Otherwise I’m gonna be dropping a fat zero on this one.”

Cat’s attention snapped to me. “You’re not going back out to complete your tasks?”

“I’m going to make sure our group reaches the finish line. Crossing that open space again on my own… doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“That’s…” Billy began, but words failed him.

There was discomfort in the air now. Where all attention had been on me, suddenly it seemed no one wanted to look my way.

“That’s not fair,” Cat snarled. “That Julia girl was right: you deserve to pass this test as much as the rest of us. More, even.”

“I’m relatively sure I’ll be okay.”

“How sure is relatively sure?”

I held up a hand and made a so-so motion. “75%, maybe?” I hedged with a wince. “It was much higher than that at the start, but, well. A lot’s happened. If there really is some hidden score for heroic deeds, I think I’m in the clear.”

“But there’s no way of knowing for sure,” Billy said.

I nodded in agreement.

Aside from the sigh of a simulated wind, silence reigned supreme. I decided not to break it, instead turning my attention upward. Hours had passed, yet the sky hadn’t changed even a shade from its midday blue; it was a mite disconcerting, but I supposed it was better than just leaving a cavernous stone roof looming above. Come to think of it, how was there even daytime-esque lighting down here? There was no sign of any lights at all, let alone an artificial sun.

The UCTZ was a wonder of engineering. It was an honour to have even had the chance to set foot in here.

I didn’t want it to be the last time. More than anything, I wanted to come back someday, to learn here. Turning my attention back to the tower and its clear surroundings, I could picture what kind of lessons they’d teach here, how they’d use the environment. In my mind’s eye, I saw a phantom version of me trailing behind an imaginary instructor, drinking in every word as they narrated their experiences of fighting in a real European street. The thought led me down another path, and soon I was picturing myself in Paris, or London, or Berlin, called in as backup to fight some uber-powerful villain.

There was nothing I wanted more than to see that scene become real.

But it was out of my hands, now. I’d made a gamble before this test even began, and I’d stuck to it. No point backing out at the last second; cold feet wasn’t an excuse a hero could rely on.

“I’ve told you all why I want to be a hero,” I said, still staring at our objective like I could already see myself there. “Now I want you guys to think about your reasons. You don’t need to say them out loud, just keep it in the centre of your mind. Picture your dream for me. Summon a vision of your ideal, the kind of hero you want to be in future.”

I counted to three in my head. My voice started to rise. “Now, look at the task ahead and ask yourself: would the hero you’re imagining be scared?”

“Hell no,” Cat said. At some point, she’d moved up to stand beside me.

On my other side, Billy rumbled, “Not a chance.”

Their words prompted a chorus of denials behind me, and, though I didn’t turn, I could hear footsteps approaching, stepping up to the plate.

My heart was racing, but there wasn’t an ounce of fear in my body. A grin split my lips, so wide it hurt my cheeks. I could barely bring myself to blink, as if my brain wouldn’t let me lose sight of my goal for more than a moment.

I saw him, standing at the top of the tower, overlooking the landscape, a red cape flowing behind him, a centurion’s helmet atop his head, a shield in one hand, a lance in the other.

A blink and he was gone.

“Get ready! When I go, I want every single one of you to be no more than a second behind! We stay sharp, we stay together, we reach the finish line in no time! We all start our journey to becoming heroes, right here, right now!”

A cheer rose up, and I lifted one arm.

Nothing more needed to be said. There were no last minute adjustments to be made.

“Let’s do this,” I bellowed at the top of my lungs, and brought my arm down.

I threw myself forward, the thunder of twenty others immediately on my heels.

Our plan, after all, was simple:

Run like hell.