"You doodled all over the test paper!"
Spectacular Mustache Man's frustration made the entire room seem to tremble. His mustache extended outward, pointing violently at Riley as if it had a mind of its own.
Riley, however, simply nodded—seemingly proud of himself.
"I know," he said. "Mother told me I have the skills of Pablo Picasso, Mr. Spectacular Mustache Man."
"They're stick figures!" Spectacular Mustache Man's mustache twitched erratically. "And I don't even understand what you're trying to say with them!"
"Thank you," Riley nodded again.
"You—"
"Calm down, SMM," Bulwark sighed. And then, with a flick of his finger, a harsh golden light extended from his arm—a bundle of energy in the shape of a pair of scissors. Scissors that threatened to cut Spectacular Mustache Man's mustache.
The scissors, however, soon changed its shape into a hand and gestured for Spectacular Mustache Man to sit down. "We get your frustration, but relax."
Spectacular Mustache Man gritted his teeth, his mustache curling sharply in defiance. But after a few seconds, he exhaled, his mustache softening as he sank back into his seat.
Clearing his throat, he refocused on Riley.
"Alright," he said, this time in a calmer tone. "Can you please explain what this drawing means? And why, instead of just circling one of the clearly provided answers, you decided to draw… this?"
"Because I felt the answers provided were insufficient, Mr. Spectacular Mustache Man." Riley sighed, shaking his head slightly.
"The first option is literally helping the old woman cross the street." Spectacular Mustache Man's mustache pinched the bridge of his nose. "You could've even picked D—pushing the old woman off the road, and I would've at least understood your reasoning. But instead—this?" He held up the paper. "Why are these stick figures holding a stick? Are they wearing hats? Is this supposed to be the old woman?"
A rare smile crept onto Riley's face as he nodded. "That is correct."
"And what does it mean!?"
"The people wearing hats are the police, Mr. Spectacular Mustache Man," Riley explained.
"I reported the old woman for jaywalking."
Silence.
"For an old woman to be a criminal at her age," Riley sighed, "The superheroes have surely been light on her, and so I chose the police instead, Mr. Spectacular Mustache Man."
Spectacular Mustache Man's mustache visibly recoiled at his words. Even Bulwark, for the first time in the entire interview, slowly looked away in embarrassment.
"…You can go now, Riley." Bulwark gestured toward the door.
"Did I pass, Mr. Bulwark?" Riley asked as he stood up.
"You did." Bulwark nodded, offering a small, unreadable smile. "The Academy was built for people like you and me, Riley."
"Hmm. Thank you, everyone," Riley nodded once more. "This has been very educational for me. I look forward to learning more at the Academy."
And with that, Riley stepped out, leaving behind a room full of utterly flabbergasted instructors.
They remained in stunned silence for a few seconds before—
"We need to keep an eye on that boy."
"Yup."
"Yes."
"Agreed."
Bulwark stood, his golden silhouette catching the light as he looked toward the door.
"Riley Ross is a blank slate," he murmured. "It is our duty as instructors to shape him."
"Indeed," Spectacular Mustache Man added, his mustache curling thoughtfully. "I have never seen such innocence in a child before."
***
Outside the building, Hannah was already waiting for Riley to come out. Benjamin, Bella, and Pauline were with her, casually chatting as they passed the time.
"Man, I dunno if our folks even gon' let us go," Benjamin shrugged. "Yo, they really takin' you to Disneyland after this? Ain't you, like, eighteen?"
"Fuck you, I'm turning fifteen next month."
Hannah flipped him off before crossing her arms. "That's why we're going before school officially starts—we won't get a chance to celebrate it later. So, are you guys coming or not? My parents are paying for everything. Everything."
"Who even is you?" Bella squinted at her. "You and ya brother just… a weird-ass duo."
"The two of you are literally gay twins."
"The hell you just say to me!?" Bella shot her the middle finger. "I ain't gay! My brother the one that's gay."
"What!? Nah, you is!"
"Why the fuck are you two acting like I just called you a slur?" Hannah raised a brow. "And are you coming or not? My brother needs friends."
"It's free, duh." Bella scoffed. "What yo' parents like? I'll get 'em somethin' back—I ain't raised like no damn pig, unlike my brother."
"We got the same parents, dumbass."
"Nah, you ain't see the trash they picked you up from?"
"What you say—"
And just like that, the twins were slapping and swiping at each other. Meanwhile, Hannah turned toward the doors, checking for any sign of Riley. When he was still nowhere to be seen, she turned to Pauline, who had been standing a little apart from the group, quiet and reserved.
"What about you?" Hannah asked. "You coming?"
"I…" Pauline hesitated, gripping the hem of her shirt. "We… don't really know each other. I'm… sorry."
"That's facts," Bella pointed at Hannah. "We the weird ones for even taggin' along."
"Isn't that the point of coming with us?" Hannah raised an eyebrow. "So we can get to know each other?"
Pauline glanced up slightly. "...Will Riley be there?"
"He's my brother. Why wouldn't he be?"
"Oooh, someone has a crush," Benjamin smirked, spinning toward Pauline.
"No…?" Pauline blinked, looking genuinely confused. "He's just… interesting."
"So, you coming?" Hannah asked again.
"I'll… have to ask my mom." After a pause, Pauline gave a small nod.
"Great. Now speaking of my brother…" Hannah turned back toward the doors, scowling. "Where the fuck is he?"
***
"Hello. It would seem I am lost. Can you help me?"
At that exact moment, Riley was, in fact, lost.
"Uh… who are you?"
"I am Riley Ross. And what is your name, Older Student?"
"I'm… Katherine. Wait… what? No, I wasn't asking for your name" The girl in front of him narrowed her eyes. Her long brown hair swayed over her shoulders as she instinctively leaned up, eyeing him warily.
"Wait… are you here to take the entrance test?"
"I just finished my interview, correct."
"Okay…" She took a step back, glancing around as if hoping to pass him off to someone else. No luck, however, as they were the only ones in the room. After a moment, she hesitantly turned back to him.
She studied his face. Sharp features. Pale skin. High cheekbones. He looked… kind of like an elf. The Tolkien kind.
"You…" She raised a finger, completely at a loss for words.
Then, after an awkward pause, she exhaled sharply and said,
"...You do realize you're in my dorm room, right?"