《Abiliters》 Chapter 1: Association Chapter 1: Association In the year 20XX, a catastrophic radioactive outburst from a distant supernova had swept across the cosmos, reaching Earth and altering life as we knew it. Humans, animals, and even plants were affected, their very DNA rewritten by the cosmic radiation. From this chaos emerged terrifying irradiated creatures¡ªICs¡ªmonstrous beings that prey upon humanity. But not all mutations led to destruction. Some humans developed extraordinary abilities, ranging from the trivial¡ªsuch as levitating small objects¡ªto the extraordinary, like glimpsing the future or reading minds. The most powerful of these individuals with abilities became known as the ''Abiliters,'' those capable of standing against the IC threat. At the pinnacle of their ranks stood the Abiliters Association (AA), an elite organization dedicated to training and recruiting the strongest among them. Every year, the AA held a brutal entrance exam, drawing thousands of hopefuls from across the world. Yet, with a passing rate of less than 1%, only a select few made the cut. And now, the 50th annual AA entrance exam was about to begin. *** Los Angeles ¨C Day Screams echoed through the streets. People ran in all directions, desperate to escape the nightmare unfolding before them. A monstrous IC loomed above the fleeing crowd¡ªa giant, winged armadillo, its grotesquely deformed body riddled with open sores, its bleeding eyes dripping crimson as it shrieked in hunger. Then, a man appeared. He walked with slow, measured steps, moving against the tide of panic. Dressed in black from head to toe¡ªcoat, shirt, pants, boots¡ªhe was a shadow given form. In his right hand, he held a simple black katana, unadorned yet deadly. His sharp gray eyes held no fear, only cool detachment. A small girl, frozen in terror, had yet to escape. The IC snarled and lunged for her. The swordsman moved. In a blur, he was there, sweeping the girl into his arms just before the creature¡¯s claws tore through the space where she had stood. She clung to him, trembling, tears streaming down her cheeks. He tried to smile¡ªreassuring, though imperfect¡ªand gently nudged her toward her panicked family in the distance. Then, the beast turned its full wrath on him. With a screech, the winged armadillo lashed out, a massive claw slicing through the air. The man sidestepped effortlessly, his movements fluid, controlled. His katana gleamed, looking almost too delicate to stand against the IC¡¯s hardened hide. Then, with a single graceful stroke, he severed the creature¡¯s paw. The IC shrieked in agony. Unfazed, the swordsman got to work. Strike after strike, he cut through the monster with a lethal elegance, dark blade flashing in the sunlight. The IC writhed and thrashed, but it was already over. Moments later, its grotesque form lay in pieces. The battle was won. With a quiet sigh, the man deactivated his katana. The beautiful dark blade shimmered out of existence. A moment of stunned silence¡ªand then cheers erupted from the crowd. The police arrived too late, but they recognized him immediately. A familiar officer¡ªa Black man with a friendly demeanor¡ªapproached with an exasperated shake of his head. "Well, well. Blaine Carver¡ªalways swooping in to save the day before the cops even show up." Blaine smirked. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re welcome.¡± ¡°The bounty¡ªsame account as usual?¡± ¡°No,¡± Blaine said. ¡°Cash this time.¡± The officer frowned. ¡°Going somewhere?¡± ¡°Actually, I am.¡± ¡°Where?¡± "The Association exam. It¡¯s next week. I¡¯m catching a flight to D.C. tonight." The officer let out a low whistle. ¡°Ah, yeah. Finally stepping into the major leagues, huh?¡± ¡°Looks like it.¡± The officer nodded, crossing his arms. ¡°Eh, you¡¯ll make it. You¡¯re the best I¡¯ve seen, Blaine.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s hope so.¡± ¡°Good luck, B. The city won¡¯t be the same without you.¡± Blaine¡¯s smirk softened. ¡°I¡¯ll be back. It¡¯s my hometown too.¡± The officer gave him a knowing look. ¡°Only if they let you. I hear they hold onto the good ones until they¡¯re dead, fighting off the worst ICs out there.¡± Blaine exhaled, amusement flickering in his eyes. ¡°Sounds fun.¡± ¡°You¡¯re weird, Blaine,¡± the officer chuckled. ¡°But I like you. Be careful out there. I¡¯ll get the cash now.¡± *** Blaine¡¯s Studio ¨C Sunset Blaine¡¯s studio was small but orderly. A simple desk, a bed, and a window that framed the city¡ªa place both breathtaking and filthy, where neon lights flickered over cracked pavement. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the skyline, while the distant wail of sirens filled the air. Night in Los Angeles was chaos incarnate¡ªboth humans and ICs got wilder after dark. His bag was packed. He was ready to leave. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The Abiliters Association exam wasn¡¯t for another week, but that didn¡¯t mean he had time to waste. The only information given to applicants was that the testing grounds were somewhere in Washington D.C. and that the exam would begin on March 31st. Everything else, he would have to figure out when he got there. Blaine took a final look around the room that had been his home for the past five years. He had started as an IC-hunting Abiliter at sixteen¡ªa natural, thanks to his ability to summon the ''Everblade.'' The Everblade¡ªhis black katana. Why it took that form, why it was black, he had no idea. Maybe, despite his undeniably Caucasian features, he had a Japanese ancestor somewhere down the line. The blade had two defining traits that made it formidable. One: it never dulled. Two: it never broke. With it, Blaine had hunted down hundreds of ICs in Los Angeles. And now, for the first time, he was leaving his hometown behind to chase something bigger. The room felt emptier than usual in the fading light, touched with an unfamiliar sense of finality. But there was no point lingering. Blaine turned, stepped out the door, and walked toward the darkening streets. *** Washington, D.C. ¨C Five Days Later Blaine had arrived in D.C. days ago, spending his time gathering information on the upcoming Abiliters Association entrance exam. It was all part of the test. And soon, he noticed he wasn¡¯t alone¡ªhopeful applicants like himself crowded the once-proud capital of the United States, their presence an unspoken confirmation that the exam was drawing near. The radioactive cataclysm fifty years ago had left its mark everywhere, but Washington, D.C. had been hit especially hard. The government had long since retreated underground, the White House and other key buildings buried beneath layers of reinforced earth. The city above was unrecognizable from its pre-IC days. On the surface, it was a sleek, futuristic metropolis¡ªa carefully planned reconstruction of what had been lost. But beneath the streets lay a vast network of bunkers and defense systems, hidden from the world yet always watching. The Abiliters Association Headquarters was housed in one of these underground fortresses, a place practically inaccessible to outsiders and the only true point of contact between the AA and the remaining government bodies. The New York branch was the public face of the organization, but for reasons unknown, this year¡¯s entrance exam had been set in D.C. Coincidence? Blaine wasn¡¯t so sure. In previous years¡ªat least from what he had been able to piece together¡ªthe five-phase exam had been held all over the world. From the streets of Paris to the depths of the Sahara Desert, from the frozen peaks of Everest to an uncharted island lost in the ocean. All Blaine knew for certain was that the ''first'' phase of the exam would begin in D.C. And he still needed more clues. Blaine had spent the past few days gathering intel from the city''s so-called ''information traders''¡ªvendors, pedestrians, and drifters who masqueraded as ordinary citizens. Most of them were liars, feeding him half-truths and misinformation, either out of ignorance or for the thrill of deception. Still, he had managed to confirm one thing: the date was set. In two days, at exactly 8:00 PM, the Abiliters Association entrance exam would begin. He had cross-checked this detail with multiple sources and was confident in its accuracy. The location, however, was another matter. The majority claimed it would take place at the New Washington Monument, while a handful insisted it would be held at the Old Capitol Site, now a solemn museum dedicated to the fallen era. Blaine was good¡ªvery good¡ªbut even with his strength and skill with a blade, he couldn¡¯t be in two places at once. He needed certainty. That meant going to the one intel trader he actually trusted. The problem with trustworthy informants, though, was that they were either expensive, eccentric, or both. At the top of Blaine¡¯s list was ''Samuel Wolfrunner''¡ªa half-Native American, half-Black information broker with a reputation for toughness, belligerence, and an uncanny ability to know things before anyone else did. He was also an arms dealer, which meant he had little patience for a man like Blaine, who had no need to stock up. After all, what use was a weapons merchant to someone who carried an indestructible sword? Blaine had tried to pry information from Wolfrunner before, but the man had been cold¡ªdistant, almost irritated. Still, if there was anyone who could confirm the truth, it was him. And Blaine was running out of time. *** Guns and Howls ¨C Samuel Wolfrunner¡¯s Store Blaine stepped into ''Guns and Howls,'' the scent of gun oil and metal filling his lungs. Behind the counter, Samuel Wolfrunner looked up¡ªa bald, dark-skinned man in his fifties, his expression as stern as ever. But there was something in his sharp brown eyes¡ªa flicker of confidence, a hint of mischief. "You again," Samuel greeted, unimpressed. Blaine didn¡¯t waste time. "Four grand, Wolfrunner. That¡¯s all I have. Take it or leave it." Samuel leaned back, folding his arms. "And my answer¡¯s still no. The intel¡¯s worth at least ten." Blaine exhaled sharply. "What do you want, then? Tell me what I can do to make up the six." Samuel considered for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. "You¡¯ve never bought a damn thing from me. What¡¯s your ability, son?" "I don¡¯t need to tell you that." "Then there¡¯s no deal." "Fine." Blaine lifted his hand, and in an instant, his Everblade materialized¡ªa sleek, black katana that absorbed the dim store light. Samuel raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed. "Nice-looking sword. No wonder you never so much as glanced at my inventory." He gestured toward a display of knives and swords¡ªpolished steel, gleaming edges, all designed to ''look'' sharper and deadlier than they actually were. But Samuel was no fool. As an experienced information broker¡ªand likely someone with AA ties¡ªhe had an eye for real weapons. He could see Everblade¡¯s worth. "All right, kid," Samuel said finally. "You look strong enough. Here¡¯s the deal. There¡¯s an IC lurking around town at night¡ªLevel C at best. I¡¯d take care of it myself, but I¡¯m not what I used to be. Got family to look after. You clear it out, and I¡¯ll sell you the exam intel for four grand." "Level C?" Blaine echoed, considering. ICs were categorized by size and threat level (unofficially). - Level F: the weakest¡ªirradiated sewer rats. - Level E: dog-sized ICs. - Level D: human-sized threats. - Level C: elephant-sized, like the winged armadillo he¡¯d cut down back in L.A. - Level B and above? Those were AA-level threats. A freelance Abiliter like Blaine, without official membership, was only permitted to hunt up to Level C. "Yeah, I can handle that." He nodded. "What does it look like?" Samuel shrugged. "City¡¯s too damn dark at night. Most people didn¡¯t get a good look. But a few say it¡¯s some kind of giant toad." "You need proof?" "Yeah. Just snap a photo of the corpse with your phone¡ªI don¡¯t care how." "Where does it show up?" Samuel frowned briefly, searching his memory. "Let me think... Ah, yes. Near the old Arlington Cemetery. Right by the river." "Got it." Blaine adjusted his coat, then met Samuel¡¯s gaze. "Four grand, Wolfrunner. You promised." Samuel smirked. "Just get it done, son. Sammy Wolf never bites the hand that pays." *** Arlington National Cemetery ¨C Night Blaine moved along the edge of what used to be two parks and a bridge. Now, only the skeletal remains of a city stood against the backdrop of a murky, radioactive river. The night was thick with silence, broken only by the occasional flicker of dying streetlights. His Everblade was already drawn when he heard a sound¡ªsoft but distinct. He tensed, ready to strike. Then, just as quickly, he forced himself to relax. Human? Or was it something just pretending to be? No. Human. The figure across from him seemed just as startled to see Blaine. They approached each other warily, and as the dim light caught the stranger¡¯s face, Blaine took in the details¡ªblonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail, a fortified jumpsuit obscuring any clear indication of physique. For a moment, he wasn¡¯t sure if it was a man or a woman. The features were pleasant, almost delicate, but something about the posture, the way he carried himself, gave Blaine his answer. Male. Around his age. The blond man smirked, a half-greeting, half-taunt. "Weird place for a midnight stroll, don¡¯t you think?" His voice was smooth, teetering on androgynous. His smile was too casual, too practiced¡ªan attempt at effortless masculinity. Blaine had a feeling he¡¯d spent his whole life correcting people¡¯s assumptions about his gender¡ªand probably hated every second of it. Blaine ignored the small talk. "Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re here for the toad too." "Aw, man. You too?" "Did Wolfrunner send you?" The blond raised an eyebrow. "Wolfrunner? Who¡¯s that? Oh¡ªwait. You mean that cranky old guy at the gun shop? Yeah, hate that guy. Charges an arm and a leg for everything." Blaine¡¯s gaze dropped to the twin pistols strapped to the stranger¡¯s hips. Not all Abiliters had summoning abilities like him. Most needed weapons, armor, and strategy to survive. "No," the blond continued. "I got the gig from Madam Claire." "You mean that phony fortuneteller?" The blond scoffed. "Phony? She¡¯s a global celebrity. Her ability¡¯s legit¡ªshe ''actually'' sees the future." "Yeah, sure. Look, this toad IC is supposed to be Level C. Still dangerous for brain-dead kids who believe in fortune-telling, so you¡¯d better leave." The stranger¡¯s easygoing smile faded. "Who you calling brain-dead, ''emo?''" Blaine blinked. "... Emo?" "You''re decked out in all black. Just missing the makeup. What happened¡ªtoo busy brooding over suicidal thoughts tonight?" The air between them thickened. Then they both heard it. A deep, wet ''thud.'' The ground trembled beneath their feet. They turned just in time to see it rise from the river¡ªa hulking, truck-sized toad IC, its slimy bulk glistening in the dark. Bulging eyes, unblinking. Motionless. Indifferent. But dangerous nonetheless. Blaine¡¯s grip on his Everblade tightened. "...That¡¯s not Level C." The blond smirked, unimpressed. "Yeah? I¡¯ve seen bigger¡ª" The creature lunged. A whip-like tongue shot toward them at impossible speed. They both leapt aside just in time, the tongue slamming into the ground where they¡¯d stood. The earth hissed. Sizzled. The spot where the tongue had landed was melting. "Okay, definitely not Level C," the blond muttered, paling. Then it hit Blaine. "... This isn¡¯t an errand... This is ''part'' of the test." "What?" the blond asked, not hearing him. But Blaine wasn¡¯t waiting for an answer. He drew his Everblade higher, its dark edge gleaming under the dim light¡ª And charged. Chapter 2: Test 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¡ªone gold, one silver¡ªclutched 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¡ªI''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¡ªboth 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¡ªwhen 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¡ªhe 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¡ª''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¡ªyou 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¡ªif 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) ¨C A Caf¨¦ Across from the AA Office, New York Branch 6 hours until the Abiliters Association Entrance Exam Blaine and Killian sat in a small caf¨¦ across the street from the AA Office, their vantage point giving them a clear view of the towering building. Unlike the main AA headquarters¡ªhidden deep within the underground bunker city of Washington D.C.¡ªthe 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¡ªfresh-looking enough, but suspicious nonetheless. Blaine, meanwhile, found his thoughts drifting back to the night before¡ªtheir 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¡ªjust 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¡ªreplicas of historic landmarks and buildings, standing as tributes to a bygone era. The ''AA Office ¨C New York Branch'' towered over the city, one of its tallest structures, second only to the ''New'' World Trade Center and ''Hope Tower''¡ªonce 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¡ªruthlessly 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¡ªfirst 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¡ªdespite 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 caf¨¦, while Killian stayed behind. Neither said it aloud, but they both knew the truth¡ª They ''would'' meet again. Whether they liked it or not. *** AA Office, New York Branch ¨C 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¡ªeveryone 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¡ªsomeone 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¡ªhe 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¡ªa 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 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¡ªunbreakable, 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¡ªsome 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¡ª And the world shifted. *** Blaine found himself standing in a vast open space, ceiling high above, an arena stretching nearly 50,000 square feet¡ªroughly 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¡ª 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." Chapter 3: Hundred Chapter 3: Hundred ??? ¨C Night ¡°The first phase of the exam is simple.¡± Chaper¡¯s voice boomed from unseen speakers, cold and precise. ¡°Right now, there are 213 applicants. By the end of this phase, that number will be cut in half. Only the top 100 will move forward.¡± Half. Blaine¡¯s gaze swept over the gathered applicants, each standing within the vast, dimly lit arena. Even 100 felt like too many. ¡°This is what¡¯s going to happen,¡± Chaper continued. ¡°You will all be transported to the outer wall of the city. As you know, New York is one of the most densely IC-infested areas in the world. You won¡¯t be short on targets.¡± A ripple of uneasy murmurs spread through the crowd. Chaper let the tension settle before he spoke again. ¡°The Association has an Abiliter who will track the number of ICs you take down. To ensure fairness, each of you will receive a counter.¡± Without warning, something materialized against Blaine¡¯s chest. A small, sturdy device, cold against his skin. All around him, others reacted as their own counters appeared in the same place. ¡°The rules are simple,¡± Chaper said. ¡°The first 100 to reach 100 points advance to the next phase. Level F ICs are worth 1 point. Level E, 2 points. Level D, 5 points. Level C, 10.¡± ''An elimination time attack.'' Blaine exhaled slowly. Simple. Brutal... But efficient. ¡°Remember, only the first 100 will proceed. The moment your counter disappears, you¡¯re out. That¡¯s all. Good luck, rooks¡­ and try not to die.¡± The speakers cut off. Silence crashed down for half a second¡ªthen the world lurched. A violent force yanked Blaine downward. The arena vanished. Darkness swallowed him whole. He was being sent to the outer wall. *** Outer New York, Wasteland ¨C Night Every major city in the world was built around a colossal wall, designed to keep the ICs out. It wasn¡¯t perfect. The ICs had their ways¡ªsmall breaches, hidden routes¡ªbut for the most part, the walls held. Beyond human settlements, the world had become a wasteland, the last remnants of a once-thriving continent now overrun by wandering ICs. Some moved alone, others in packs or colonies. The most dangerous among them didn¡¯t last long. The Abiliters Association made sure of that. ''Which means,'' Blaine thought, ''the chances of a Level B or higher IC lurking outside New York¡¯s wall are slim... But not zero.'' That wasn¡¯t the most pressing problem, though. He had arrived in the middle of nowhere. The moon cast its pale glow over the ruins of what had once been a peaceful suburb. Crumbling houses, rusted-out cars, nature slowly reclaiming what humanity had abandoned. The silence felt suffocating. Blaine exhaled, scanning the empty streets. Whoever had transported the applicants must have spaced them out deliberately¡ªprobably to keep them from getting tangled up in the same fights. ''¡­ This isn¡¯t good.'' His ability, ''Everblade,'' was powerful. A summonable black sword, unbreakable and eternally sharp, capable of enhancing his physical prowess. But it wasn¡¯t built for area attacks. It thrived in one-on-one combat, precision kills¡ªnot mowing down hordes of enemies. He could already imagine Killian Venger, with his alterable-trajectory pistols and near-infinite ammo upon recharging, effortlessly clearing waves of weak Level F and E ICs. The guy wouldn¡¯t even have to aim¡ªjust unload and let the bullets do the work. Blaine couldn¡¯t compete with that kind of kill speed. And who knew how many other applicants had abilities just as lethal¡ªmaybe even better? ... No point wasting time on things beyond his control. Blaine shook his head, forcing the doubt away. ''Focus.'' He scanned the ruins, searching for ICs. His best strategy was to hunt down Level C ones¡ªthey were worth 10 points each. The fastest way to hit 100. That didn¡¯t mean he¡¯d ignore the weaker ICs. Every point counted, and speed was everything. His gaze flicked down to the counter device on his chest. It was still there. ''Good.'' He just had to make sure it stayed that way¡ªat least until he could take down ten Level Cs before a hundred others beat him to it. *** Three Hours Later. Blaine had been lucky. In the past couple of hours, he¡¯d taken down five Level C ICs¡ªone owl-shaped, one oversized lizard, a monstrous fly and bee, and the most formidable of them all, a feral cat. None had been particularly difficult. The real challenge had been finding them. Time. ''That'' was the problem. His gaze flicked down to the counter on his chest, his pulse quickening as he checked. Still there. ''90.'' He¡¯d cut down enough lesser ICs along the way to pad his score. Now, all he needed was ten more points¡ªeither one more Level C or ten Level F ICs. ''Come on... I¡¯m running out of time.'' For the first time, a realization gnawed at him. His one-on-one combat style¡ªwhile effective¡ªhad limits. If he truly wanted to be a force within the Abiliters Association, he¡¯d need a way to take down multiple enemies at once. ''But how?'' His thoughts scattered as he turned onto a secluded street. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The ruins here were older¡ªcollapsed homes, their skeletons left untouched for fifty years. The wind was still. The night air thick. And then¡ªhe felt it. A presence. Humans weren¡¯t supposed to detect radiation in the air¡ªat least, not fifty years ago. But the new humans could. Especially those who had fought against the ICs long enough. The Abiliters like Blaine, for instance. Some called it instinct. Others called it an evolved sense of survival. Whether it was the shift in the air, the unnatural stillness, or just pure gut feeling, Blaine knew¡ª Something was here. ¡°¡­ Fucking great.¡± He stopped. A hulking IC loomed ahead, its shell gleaming under the moonlight. A cockroach the size of a small car. Blaine¡¯s jaw tensed. ''Of all things... It had to be that.'' He hated insect-type ICs. Their exoskeletons were a pain to break through, and worse, some of them laid eggs when they died. The last thing he wanted was to cut one open only to unleash a fresh swarm of horrors. But there was no time to hesitate. His counter was still there¡ªfor now¡ªbut he could feel it. Time was almost up. He had to kill this thing. With a resigned sigh, Blaine summoned the Everblade into his grasp. The black blade shimmered, sharp as ever. ''Please be male... No eggs.'' He prayed and moved. ... The cockroach IC was fast. Far faster than something that size had any right to be. Its hardened shell gleamed under the moonlight as it scuttled across the ruined street, dodging Blaine¡¯s initial strikes with unnatural agility. His blade barely grazed its carapace, sending sparks flying but leaving no real damage. Blaine gritted his teeth. No time to hesitate. Desperation fueled him. He lunged, aiming for the softer spots¡ªthe face and the abdomen. His attacks were relentless, his swings precise. Everblade slashed through the air in a flurry of sharp arcs, each one seeking an opening. The cockroach hissed and retaliated, spewing a toxic, radioactive liquid from its mouth. Blaine barely needed to think. He moved instinctively, sidestepping with ease, letting the glowing acid splash uselessly onto the crumbling asphalt behind him. He hated fighting insect-types. But that didn¡¯t mean he didn¡¯t know how to kill them. Five minutes passed¡ªan agonizing eternity. Blaine¡¯s breath came in sharp bursts, his arms ached from swinging, but finally, he severed almost all of its scuttling legs. The massive insect thrashed, struggling to balance on its remaining limbs. Now. He drove Everblade straight into its grotesque, twitching face. The cockroach convulsed violently. Blaine pulled the sword out and struck again. And again. Insect-type ICs were persistent. Their nerve endings kept firing even when half their bodies were gone. He wasn¡¯t taking any chances¡ªhe needed to destroy everything connecting its broken body to its brain. And then¡ª Stillness. The cockroach IC lay motionless, its hideous form finally defeated. Blaine exhaled sharply, yanking Everblade free. His heart pounded as he glanced down at the counter on his chest. 100. Before he could even catch his breath, the world around him warped. He was being transported again. But this time, he felt it. Relief. He made it. *** Waiting Room, Abiliters Association Office (???) Blaine arrived in a different area from before. Smaller, quieter. About seventy other applicants sat around, waiting. Sofas and chairs lined the walls, refreshments untouched at the center. A hundred large screens dominated the room¡ªnot digital, but the result of someone¡¯s ability, broadcasting fight scenes from those who had passed Phase One of the exam. "You look like hell." Blaine turned to find Killian smirking at him. Only now did he realize he was covered in sweat, blood, and IC goo from the night¡¯s hunt. Meanwhile, Killian stood next to him looking pristine, not even a drop of sweat on him. "And you look nice," Blaine grumbled. "Yeah, well, we knew the assignment was going to be difficult for you." Blaine nodded absentmindedly, scanning the room. Most applicants weren¡¯t paying attention to the refreshments. Instead, they were gathered beneath one screen at the far end, murmuring among themselves. Blaine frowned, wondering what was so important. "Wait, you¡¯re up." Killian pointed at one of the screens as it flickered to life. A caption appeared at the bottom: #77 Blaine Carver Ability: Everblade Completion Time: 3''45''''12'''''' Footage of Blaine¡¯s fights played¡ªmostly highlights of his battles against Level C ICs. "Seventy-seven?" Blaine muttered. "You¡¯re the seventy-seventh to pass," Killian said. Blaine frowned. Seventy-six others had beaten him to the finish. That put him on the lower end of the competition. The fact that his ability wasn¡¯t suited for this kind of assignment didn¡¯t console him. Only the two of them were watching. The rest of the room was still gathered around the farthest screen¡ªlikely watching whoever had passed first. "Damn, that last one was disgusting," Killian muttered, squinting at the footage of Blaine cutting down the cockroach IC. "Good thing it didn¡¯t lay eggs all over you." "Yes, I feel so lucky," Blaine said dryly. "Well, it could¡¯ve been worse," Killian added with an apologetic grin. Blaine nodded toward the crowd. "What¡¯s everyone looking at?" "#1, obviously," Killian said, like he¡¯d already seen it. Blaine turned back to him. "What¡¯s your number?" "Twenty-four. Wanna watch mine?" Blaine shrugged. Killian led the way to his screen. The caption appeared: #24 Killian Venger Ability: Free Bullets Completion Time: 0''35''''32'''''' "Free Bullets?" Blaine blinked. "Really?" "I like to keep things simple," Killian said with a shrug. Blaine watched the highlights of Killian¡¯s run. It wasn¡¯t exactly exciting. Too easy. Killian¡¯s biggest challenge had been finding enough Level F and E ICs in a single horde. Once he did, he simply pointed his pistols upward and fired. Nonstop. Now, Blaine saw it¡ªKillian¡¯s bullets weren¡¯t just trajectory-controlled. They auto-targeted enemies. "Not bad, huh?" Killian grinned smugly. "That¡¯s almost like cheating," Blaine muttered, shaking his head. "How¡¯s it cheating? It¡¯s my ability. I worked hard to master it!" Killian protested. Blaine gave a half-hearted nod before finally turning toward the crowd, all fixated on number one''s feat. "You already watched it?" he asked. "Yeah... and if you think my ability is cheating, you¡¯re in for a treat with this one." They moved toward the group. The atmosphere was heavy¡ªserious, almost unnerved. Whatever they had seen had left an impression. The screen showed a simple scene on loop. Five seconds. That was all it took for number one to reach 100 points. #1 Hikaru Lavalier Ability: Absolute Chain Completion Time: 0''0''''7'''''' ''Seven seconds?'' Blaine felt a chill run down his spine. That number didn¡¯t feel real. Finally, he focused on the footage¡ªshort, but devastating. A lean Asian young man stood alone. Curly, disheveled hair. A disinterested expression. No ICs in sight. Then, the camera¡ªprobably a drone controlled by the Association¡ªzoomed out to capture the full scope of what had happened. Within a mile radius, the ground convulsed as millions of chain links erupted like a living creature shaking off its restraints. They shot upward in a brutal frenzy, impaling hundreds of ICs in an instant. The air rang with the sickening crunch of ruptured exoskeletons and the shrieks of dying creatures. The earth itself seemed to rebel, fracturing under the sheer force of the ability. Fissures split open, swallowing debris as jagged chains surged forth, skewering anything in their path. The ground became a slaughterhouse, bodies writhing like grotesque ornaments strung along steel threads. But the devastation didn¡¯t stop. The chains moved with intelligence, relentless in their hunt. Wave after wave followed, an unending torrent of destruction, until the entire area was ensnared. Within seconds, what had been an open wasteland was now a dome of interwoven chains, sealing the massacre within its iron grasp. Blaine¡¯s sharp eyes caught at least a thousand ICs struggling against the iron prison before the footage looped back to the beginning, replaying the mass slaughter over and over. Killian nudged him, nodding toward the corner of the waiting room. "That¡¯s him." Hikaru Lavalier sat slouched in a chair, dozing off. Completely at ease. Blaine didn¡¯t dare approach. Every instinct in him, every bit of his Abiliter¡¯s awareness, painted a vivid image in his mind¡ªa chain shooting out of nowhere, piercing his chest before he could even react. "What a cocky bastard," Killian muttered, clicking his tongue. "Yeah..." Blaine murmured. But in his mind, a different word came to him. ''Monster.'' Within minutes, the rest of the 100 applicants had filled the room, lighting up all the screens. Blaine moved through the displays, scanning the top-ranked applicants. The AA entrance exam was multi-phased, and historically, pitting one Abiliter against another was a staple¡ªwhether through duels, team battles, or competitive face-offs. These screens were more than just highlights; they were valuable intel. Blaine tried to commit notable abilities to memory, though the overwhelming impact of Hikaru Lavalier¡¯s display made everyone else seem like an afterthought. Just then, the booming sound of the invisible speakers crackled to life. This time, a lively woman¡¯s voice filled the room. ¡°Well, that¡¯s 100. Congrats on passing Phase One of the exam! I¡¯m your next examiner for Phase Two¡ªAthena Warden, Veteran Rank.¡± There was a slight pause, a hint of amusement in her tone, as if she were holding back laughter. ¡°Ron might have introduced you to hell, but now? You¡¯re in it for real. Prepare for Phase Two, whelps, and mark my words¡ªsome of you will definitely die this time.¡± Blaine tensed. His eyes instinctively flicked to Killian, who was forcing a grin, though it barely masked his unease. Then he noticed Hikaru rising from his chair, stretching with a yawn¡ªcompletely unfazed by the examiner¡¯s grim warning. ¡°The next phase doesn¡¯t start for a few more hours,¡± Athena continued. ¡°Until then, wash up and rest in your assigned rooms. You¡¯ll be sent there shortly. See you soon!¡± A familiar sensation took hold¡ªlike the ground pulling him downward¡ªand in the blink of an eye, Blaine found himself elsewhere. A simple, hotel-like room. No exit. A bed. A small table. A restroom with a shower. A mini-fridge stocked with drinks and snacks. No clock. Instead, a countdown displayed on the wall. T - 2:45 until Phase Two started.