Chapter 2: Test
Arlington National Cemetery - Night
Blaine lunged, his Everblade glinting in the darkness. He aimed for the creature’s thick front legs. The toad IC, sluggish and unbothered, didn''t move to evade. The Everblade sliced through flesh, but not deep enough to cripple.
A crack of gunfire split the night. Blaine caught the flash of custom-made pistols—one gold, one silver—clutched in the hands of the blond man at his side. The bullets spiraled through the air in unnatural arcs, curving mid-flight.
''An ability to alter trajectory?''
Blaine barely had time to process it before the toad IC let out a deep, reverberating croak, its massive, poison-laced tongue snapping toward him like a whip. He raised Everblade just in time. The impact rattled his bones, acid sizzling against the indestructible steel, but the blade held firm.
His eyes flicked to the blond man. The curving bullets had done little more than scratch the beast’s thick hide.
"All right, I hate to say it," Blaine muttered, exhaling sharply, "but it looks like we’ll have to cooperate, blondie."
"You think, darkie?" The blond man’s lips twisted into a smirk.
Blaine grimaced, then let out something between a chuckle and a sigh.
"Blaine Carver," he said.
"Killian Venger," the blond man replied.
The toad IC let out another guttural croak. The fight was far from over.
"Your ability—I''m guessing you can alter the trajectory of your bullets?" Blaine asked.
"Yeah. You?"
Blaine shrugged. "You''re looking at it."
He lifted Everblade, the pitch-black katana gleaming in the dim light.
Killian frowned. "That''s a bit lackluster."
"It''s sharp and sturdy. That''s more than enough."
"Not sharp enough to cut through that thing’s hide," Killian countered. "You got a plan, Blaine?"
Blaine thought for a moment. "Aim for the eyes. As far as I know, amphibians rely on sight and absorb oxygen through their skin."
"They can smell you."
"Better smell me than see me."
Killian nodded, raised his pistols, and fired. The bullets curved with unnatural precision, striking their mark. The corneas weren’t as bulletproof as the skin—both eyes burst, and the toad IC let out a deafening, pain-ridden croak.
"Now what?" Killian asked.
"Leave it to me."
Blaine surged forward, leaping high into the air. His target: the toad IC’s skull. The creature, now blind and thrashing in agony, didn’t see him coming.
He descended with full force, Everblade angled to pierce through bone. The impact was enough to crack the skull, but not to drive the blade deep enough. Gritting his teeth, Blaine pushed with all his might—when Killian suddenly shouted:
"Watch your head!"
Instinct kicked in. Blaine shifted just as a barrage of bullets rained down, each one striking the tip of Everblade''s hilt, hammering it deeper and deeper into the toad IC’s skull. The force of each shot drove the blade further, inch by inch.
After what felt like a hundred rounds, Killian shouted again.
"I''m out of ammo! I need to recharge!"
''Recharge? Not reload?''
Blaine took a split second to process Killian’s ability:
1) Bullet trajectory manipulation.
2) Near-infinite ammo, but with a cooldown period.
The toad IC flailed violently, but Blaine held on. The bullets had done their job—he just needed one final push.
Then, from below, the creature’s acid-coated tongue snapped upward, aiming to engulf him.
Killian fired again, intercepting the attack in a hail of bullets. The tongue recoiled, but a few stray shots grazed Blaine’s arms.
"Thanks a lot!" Blaine growled.
Killian chuckled. "You''re fucking welcome!"
Finally, as Everblade sank deep into the toad IC’s brain, the creature’s thrashing slowed. With a final, violent shudder, it went still, its massive, acid-slicked tongue crashing to the ground like a fallen rope.
Killian let out a long sigh. "... Well, that just cemented my hatred for slimy, ugly frog things even more."
Blaine jumped off the toad IC’s head and deactivated Everblade. The pitch-black katana shimmered briefly before vanishing.
Killian raised a brow. "That''s convenient. So, when you summon it back, does it still come with toad goo?"
"Thankfully, no."
An awkward silence settled between them.
Blaine exhaled. "And thanks for the help."
"Likewise." Killian nodded. "I can get crafty with my bullets, but I still lack the firepower to take down something like that. Work in progress."
Neither said anything more as they both pulled out their phones and snapped pictures of the dead monster.
"You think this is okay? The two of us taking it down instead of soloing?" Killian asked.
"Did Madam Claire say anything about doing it solo?" Blaine countered.
"No. Did Wolfrunner?"
"I don’t remember exactly, but I think he just said to get the job done."
They both pocketed their phones, exchanging lingering, awkward smiles.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Well," Blaine scoffed, "good luck getting your intel on the exam site. Assuming that phony psychic actually gave you legit info."
"Don’t get ripped off by that greedy old man yourself."
Then, a sudden cough echoed from above.
Both men snapped their heads up. In an instant, Blaine summoned Everblade, and Killian leveled his pistols.
"You gonna take that from these punks, Sammy?"
An old woman’s voice crackled from a silent drone hovering above them.
Killian’s eyes narrowed. "... Madam Claire?"
''How long has that thing been up there?'' Blaine thought. The answer hit him immediately—''the whole damn time.''
His suspicion was confirmed when a gruff voice followed.
"All right, kids. You passed the ‘preliminary’ test."
It was the voice of Samuel Wolfrunner.
Killian frowned. "What’s going on?"
"I’m guessing taking down the toad was part of the test," Blaine said. "The AA entrance exam has already begun."
A chuckle from Madam Claire. "Looks like the dark-haired one is the sharper one here."
Killian stiffened. "Wait—you mean we’re already in the exam?"
"I’m about to tell you the location," Samuel continued. "And it’s the real deal. So don’t go running around double-checking with other fake info brokers unless you want to create more competition for yourselves."
"Wait," Blaine cut in. "I didn’t take down the toad alone. Will there be a penalty?"
Samuel Wolfrunner''s voice rumbled through the drone. "No. We knew neither of you would be able to take it down solo. That’s why we paired you up."
Blaine’s jaw tightened slightly.
''Did I look that weak to them? To the undercover officials of the AA entrance exam?''
Claire chuckled. "Oh, don’t pout, handsome. That IC you just took down was borderline Level B—if it weren’t so damn slow, you wouldn’t be standing here."
Blaine stayed silent.
Killian, however, leaned forward slightly. "The exam site. Where is it?"
Blaine listened closely too.
New Washington Monument Square? The Old Capitol Site?
Which was it?
At last, Samuel spoke up.
"It’s the AA Office, NYC Branch."
Both men froze.
"... Wait," Blaine said slowly. "I thought the exam was here in D.C."
"No," Claire corrected. "The ''information'' leading to the test site was spread across D.C. The actual exam is in New York."
Blaine instinctively checked the time.
The exam officially started at 8 PM tomorrow.
"Better catch a flight or drive up there soon, kids. Good luck."
With that, the drone whirred and flew off, leaving Blaine and Killian standing there, dumbfounded.
***
New York City, RFC (Rad-Free Coffee) – A Café Across from the AA Office, New York Branch
6 hours until the Abiliters Association Entrance Exam
Blaine and Killian sat in a small café across the street from the AA Office, their vantage point giving them a clear view of the towering building.
Unlike the main AA headquarters—hidden deep within the underground bunker city of Washington D.C.—the New York City branch served as the public face of the organization. A beacon for Abiliters worldwide.
For the past few hours, the two had been staking out the area, keeping count of the ''skilled'' Abiliters coming and going.
Blaine had estimated close to a hundred.
Across from him, Killian sat with his feet propped up on an empty chair, chewing nonchalantly on a sandwich.
"... They ''say'' the coffee’s rad-free, but is it just me, or does the food here have a slight radiation ''aftertaste?''"
Killian took another bite of his sandwich—fresh-looking enough, but suspicious nonetheless.
Blaine, meanwhile, found his thoughts drifting back to the night before—their grueling journey from D.C. to NYC.
The damned information broker-slash-AA temp officials, Samuel Wolfrunner and Madam Claire, hadn’t been ''kind.'' Not only had they taken the promised four grand from him (six from Killian), but they’d also pocketed the bounty for the toad IC they took down, leaving nothing for the two actual bounty hunters.
That left both of them painfully short on cash. A quick flight to New York was out of the question.
Scraping together what little funds they had left, they settled for renting a car and taking the long, winding roads up to the city.
With traditional freeways closed due to rising IC threats over the past half-century, the drive took them a grueling eight hours.
Yet despite the lack of sleep and rest, Blaine felt awake.
Alert.
Excited.
He still hadn''t been entirely sure if Wolfrunner and Madam Claire had given them the right intel, but the last few hours of recon had all but confirmed it.
''Top-tier Abiliters. Every single one of them.''
A drastic upgrade from the ones they encountered in D.C.
Blaine clenched his fists under the table, a thrill running up his spine. They were in the right place.
And in just a few hours, the exam would begin.
Finally, Blaine allowed himself to relax—just a little.
He leaned back in his chair, taking in the sight of the ''new'' New York City, the so-called ''Safest City on Earth.''
Gone were the grand rows of skyscrapers and the bustling crowds of the past. Like most major cities after the Radioactive Cataclysm, NYC had been forced to burrow underground, its infrastructure now a labyrinth of secure, reinforced tunnels.
Yet remnants of its former glamour remained—replicas of historic landmarks and buildings, standing as tributes to a bygone era.
The ''AA Office – New York Branch'' towered over the city, one of its tallest structures, second only to the ''New'' World Trade Center and ''Hope Tower''—once known as the Empire State Building.
Blaine exhaled, his gaze lingering on the AA Office.
''I wonder what the exam’s going to be like…''
They wouldn’t just let a horde of eager Abiliters run wild in this fragile, carefully preserved city. Whatever was coming, it would be controlled—ruthlessly so.
While Blaine was focused on the challenge ahead, Killian was barely paying attention. He lounged across from him, half-dozing, scrolling lazily through his phone.
Blaine frowned.
Killian had helped him twice now—first with the toad IC, then by pitching in for the rental car. But when the exam started, that goodwill wouldn’t matter.
They’d be competitors.
Blaine decided it was time to part ways.
"All right, Killian." He stood.
Killian, almost on instinct, moved to follow. "Where we going?"
Blaine hesitated, then said, "I think it’s better if we split up from here."
It took Killian a second to catch on. Then, a slow smirk. "Pity. I was starting to like you—despite your tragic fashion sense."
He gestured to Blaine’s all-black attire.
Blaine snorted. "Says the guy in a bloated jumpsuit."
"Hey, this is a ''state-of-the-art'' tactical battle suit."
They shared a brief smile and shook hands.
"Hopefully, we don’t cross paths in the exam," Blaine said.
Killian’s smirk widened. "Yeah… you wouldn’t like that at all."
One last exchange, one final acknowledgment.
Then, their brief partnership ended.
Blaine stepped out of the café, while Killian stayed behind.
Neither said it aloud, but they both knew the truth—
They ''would'' meet again.
Whether they liked it or not.
***
AA Office, New York Branch – Night
7:55 PM.
Blaine stood before the towering AA building.
Most of its windows were dark, and the streets were eerily empty.
ICs grew stronger and wilder at night—everyone knew that. Most cities had mandatory curfews, and New York was no exception. Still… there should have been a crowd gathered before the ''official'' exam site of the Abiliters Association Entrance Exam.
But there was no one.
Blaine had been keeping his distance, half a block away, observing. Some ruthless applicants might try to eliminate the competition before the exam even began. An ambush wasn’t out of the question.
So far, everything was quiet.
Too quiet.
Then, movement—someone approaching the building, walking deliberately through the darkness. He paused for a moment, scanning the area as if reaching a conclusion, then proceeded to the entrance.
Blaine tensed. The doors had been locked since 6 PM—he had watched the guards secure them. But the man didn’t stop. The moment his fingers brushed the entrance, he vanished.
''A space-warping ability.''
Blaine checked his watch—a black matte G-Shock.
7:58 PM.
His plan had been to enter just before the 8 PM mark, but now that he knew the entrance was protected by an AA-sanctioned Abiliter, he wasn’t going to wait until the last second.
He moved.
Stepping out of the shadows, almost sprinting.
7:59 PM.
As if on cue, five other applicants emerged from different directions, all converging on the entrance.
Then—
A gunshot.
One of the applicants crumpled to the ground.
''Ambush.''
Blaine’s grip tightened as he summoned the Everblade. He hadn’t told Killian or anyone about its ''third'' ability—unbreakable, ever-sharp… and when wielding it, Blaine’s physical abilities heightened: speed, strength, reflexes, all enhanced.
Another shot.
He was ready for it.
Just before reaching the door, he ''felt'' the bullet coming. From a rooftop, roughly a hundred feet up.
Not from an applicant.
No, someone had ''hired'' a sniper—some coward too weak to face the competition directly.
With a sharp turn of his wrist, Blaine deflected the bullet effortlessly. Then, without breaking stride, he flicked a middle finger toward the sniper’s perch before stepping forward—
And the world shifted.
***
Blaine found himself standing in a vast open space, ceiling high above, an arena stretching nearly 50,000 square feet—roughly the size of an old-world football field.
Except now, that sport had been reinvented as ''Abiliter Ball,'' a chaotic fusion of football, basketball, and hockey played by professional Abiliters. Blaine wasn’t a fan.
Around him, nearly 200 other applicants gathered, their murmurs filling the air.
“Almost thought you got lost out there…”
Blaine turned to see Killian, grinning.
“Or got taken out by that pathetic rooftop sniper.”
Blaine smirked, about to throw back a quip—
When a deep, authoritative voice boomed through the arena, cutting through the chatter.
"Welcome to the 50th Abiliters Association Entrance Exam."
The voice came from no visible speaker. Either hidden tech or another ability.
"My name is Ron Chaper. ''Elite Rank.'' I’ll be your examiner for Phase One."
A pause. Then, the final words rang out, sharp as a blade.
"... In other words, welcome to hell, rookies."