Page 104 of Interion

By that point, my anxiety was so bad that I was swallowing the fruit bars whole without even chewing. It was a relief when he finally wrapped up.

“Good luck to you all!” he concluded, stepping away.

The students clapped and the director exited through the left door. Adele's name was called, and I watched as the snake stood up and swayed her hips all the way to the stage. If I got my hands on that thin neck, I'd snap it in two.

In the center of the stage was a large screen with tables showing each student's name. I realized the grades would be displayed there. The first chart with the initial levels was already up—mine showed 550 in blue, Aish had 350, Hiro had 400, and Breno had 600. My hands started to sweat.

After fifteen minutes, Adrian's name was called. Time crawled at the pace of an elderly snail as students stood up one by one and entered through the door. Most came out the other side celebrating, a triumphant gleam in their eyes—this was a test that only brought good news, since the gift only ever increased, never decreased, until the day of stagnation.

Once, when I was younger, I asked Ambrose what to expect from the sonar. He told me the man was eccentric and patient, but his powers could be a bit strange. The sonar usually conducted his sessions with his eyes closed, because he said power wasn't meant to be seen—it was meant to be felt. So I was already expecting something unusual. Like Serguei, the sonar was also a descendant who had served in the night squad, but unlike the psychic, he wasn't bound to the throne. Ambrose told me that Elitium had locked him into an agreement, but for some unknown reason, had given him permission to wander wherever he wanted, as long as he put in a certain number of days of service.

There were rumors that the sonar lived in a hole in the forest floor and never bathed. I figured that was just a legend meant to disparage a descendant, since they said malicious things about me too. In any case, the sonar only came to the central wall twice a year: once to classify the graduates and once to recharge the five power machines used to evaluate the gifts of newborns in other nations. There was only one being with the power of sonar, and only the central academy of Interion had the honor of presenting its students to him. Everyone else was evaluated by machines.

Breno's name was called, and as he headed to the stage, I whispered, “Good luck.” Most of the time, my friend was the calmest and most extroverted person I knew, but sometimes I caught glimpses of a conflict between his playful personality and the responsible side of him that had matured quickly after his mother left to join the army. Today, he'd clearly adopted the rigid posture of an older brother. Dominic stayed in his seat, and as soon as Breno disappeared from view, he turned to me and waved with a huge smile on his face. Relieved, I smiled and waved back, happy to know that for him, nothing had changed.

I'd met Dominic a year ago, at his initiation ceremony at the academy. That day, Breno had called me, sounding nervous, and asked if I could come to the event and stand in as a family member, because Natali, the boys' mother, couldn't attend and two people were needed to give the initiation blessing. It was there, surrounded by people who looked at me with disgust, that I met Dominic, the most important person in the world to Breno. We spent the afternoon by Lake Canoa eating pistachio ice cream, and even though I wasn't good with kids, talking to Dominic was fun.

A few minutes later, Breno came out through the left door, but his face was an unreadable mask. He didn't look happy, and I wondered if his level hadn't gone up enough.

My heart pounded as the other students were called. They all entered through the left door and came out through the right, then returned to their seats to celebrate.

I glanced at my phone screen and saw a message blinking. It was from Lorenzo and Ambrose.

“Good luck, Kay! Just like everything in life, you'll rock this test too. We're rooting for you. With love, from the two people who love you most in the world.”

I pressed the phone to my chest, touched by the message. Ambrose being Ambrose.

“Kyller Voluz!” the young woman called from the door. I put away my phone and headed to the stage. Aish touched my hand as I passed by. She had no idea what had happened after the party, and I thanked the gods she hadn't come after me—she would have been attacked too.

“Good luck, zoozi,” she said with a smile.

“Thanks,” I replied, not sure how to act around her after kissing her at the party.

I walked down the narrow corridor until I reached the stairs, where the woman greeted me with a scowl, her gaze sweeping over my hair with obvious distaste.

“It's at the end of the corridor. Leave all your belongings in the room next door and go in without taking anything. The sonar is sensitive.” She pointed the way.

I headed to the room, my heart galloping in my chest. It's just a stupid test, I told myself—I was sure my level wouldn't be lower than 700. Still, I couldn't shake the fear, because if it wasn't high enough, I'd have trouble getting the position at the hospital, and Ambrose would be disappointed. In his eyes, I was the most extraordinary elmedic he knew, and I didn't want to let him down.

The door at the end of the hallway was completely black, and before entering, I left my phone and earrings on the table beside it. On the other side, a side door marked the exit. I took a deep breath and pushed the golden handle, stepping into a dimly lit space that immediately made my pupils dilate. The darkness was broken only by faint red light radiating from the ceiling onto the walls, creating a mystical atmosphere. In the center of the room sat two red armchairs facing each other. A man was waiting in one of them.

The sonar was truly a man of pure Drutes genetics, and at first, it was strange to look at him—I hadn't seen someone with my hair color in a long time. He was enormous, sitting in the armchair with his eyes closed. His nose was impossible to ignore, large and wide, making a striking contrast with his thin face. His clothes hung loose on his frame, and a green tunic covered almost all his skin, but even beneath all those layers, you could tell his body was thin.

“Hello?” I called awkwardly. The man appeared motionless in the armchair; the only sign he wasn't asleep was his upright, alert posture.

“Come closer, girl. I can't see you,” he said, his eyes still closed.

I approached, uncertain what to do.

“Come have tea with me.” His hands beckoned me closer. His nails were long and unkempt, and his fingers looked like claws—long and thin. The sight sent a chill through me, and I mentally scolded myself, because he was a respected figure. But looking at him up close, I began to believe the myths about his life were real. He really did look like someone who lived in a hole and never bathed. I swallowed hard and moved closer.

“Closer, sit with me. I must warn you that the tea is bitter, but what's one more bitter thing, right? One less or one more makes no difference—bitterness teaches too.”

He poured the tea with his eyes still closed and held it out to me. I didn't understand much of what he was saying, but Ambrose had already warned me about his eccentric ways. I walked to the armchair and sat across from him; his hand was extended with the cup held in his long fingers. I took it, but during the exchange, his fingers stroked mine.

His eyes snapped open immediately, and a completely red gaze fixed on me. There was no white, no iris—just an ocean of blood staring back at me. Eyes the color of the seventh hell.

I jerked my hands back, spilling tea on the white floor, while the man stared at me in shock, his mouth falling open.