The first prospect stepped forward, a young man with a wiry frame and a confident stride. “Names Jerry from Gilga,” he said, his voice carrying across the hall. With a casual flick of his wrist, a severed wolf’s head appeared from his void space and dropped to the floor with a dull thud.

  The Queen nodded, her sharp gaze assessing the offering. “Your power?” she asked, her tone neutral but commanding.

  Jerry raised his hands, and the air around him seemed to crystallize. A wall of ice surged upward in front of him, its surface gleaming with razor-sharp edges. “I have the ability to super-freeze the area around me,” he explained. “I can shape the ice into defensive structures or use it offensively.”

  Queen Faye examined the wall briefly before nodding. “Impressive. Any mutations?”

  “None, Your Majesty,” Jerry said, lowering his hands. The ice wall shimmered and dissolved into a fine mist.

  “Very good. Step back. Next,” Faye commanded, already turning her attention to the next person.

  Lloyd’s eyes flicked toward King Kratos. His posture hadn’t changed; his elbows and forearms were on the rests of the throne, and he lay back in a relaxed state.

  A tall woman with auburn hair stepped forward. “Delia, also from Gilga,” she said. She summoned a second wolf’s head from her void space, though this one was significantly larger. “I’m a Grower.”

  The mention of her ability caught Lloyd’s attention. He remembered his mother’s growing powers, though she had rarely spoken of them in the context of combat. He watched closely as Delia walked toward a decorative planter box at the edge of the room.

  With a graceful motion, Delia placed her hand on the flowers, and the plants responded immediately. The stems lengthened, the blossoms unfurling into vibrant, oversized blooms that shimmered with an almost ethereal glow. Vines crept outward, weaving around the planter’s edges and spilling onto the floor in a burst of life.

  “If I’m fighting in a forest, I can make the environment come alive,” Delia explained. “I can overwhelm enemies with nature itself.”

  The Queen smiled faintly, clearly impressed. “Do you have any mutations?”

  “None, Your Majesty,” Delia replied.

  “Very well. Step back. Next.”

  The presentations continued, each prospect stepping forward to display their abilities. Lloyd listened intently, trying to gauge the competition. There were growers, ice manipulators, and even a man who could bend light to create realistic illusions. One by one, they demonstrated their powers, each unique and intriguing. But the mention of mutations stirred the room each time, drawing murmurs and sidelong glances. Only one person before Lloyd’s group mentioned they had a mutation. Lloyd kept watching to see what reaction the King had, but it was as if he was as much a statue as the throne he sat on. The only movement came from the occasional blink.

  Lloyd felt a growing unease as the line dwindled, bringing his group closer to the Queen. His thoughts raced. What would he say? How would he explain himself?

  “Next,” Queen Faye called.

  Colette stepped forward, her small stature almost swallowed by the oversized hog’s head she held in her hands.

  “Colette, Springvale,” she said, her voice steady. “I’m a healer.”

  The Queen’s expression softened slightly. “Good. We are in desperate need of healers on the front lines. Any mutations?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Colette said, hesitating as the room erupted into murmurs. All eyes turned toward her, the weight of their curiosity palpable.

  “Wonderful,” Faye said, silencing the crowd with a raised hand. “Your mutation?”

  “I can heal ailments, not just wounds,” Colette explained.

  The room errupted in murmurs and shuffling of feet. Lloyd looked past Colette and saw that everyone in the room was shifting so that they could get a good look at her.

  The Queen’s gaze sharpened, and a flicker of a smile crossed her lips. “That will indeed be incredibly helpful. A demonstration, please.”

  Faye drew a dagger from her belt, and a green mist grew around her hand. The mist sank into the dagger before she made a shallow cut across her palm. Colette stepped forward, her hands glowing with a soft, golden light. The light then danced multiple colors as it healed whatever aliment that mist was. The Queen’s wound sealed itself seamlessly, leaving behind no trace of injury.

  The room erupted in scattered applause, but Faye raised her hand again, silencing them. “Very good. Step back.”

  Colette returned to the group, her face flushed but triumphant. Sheena stepped forward next, her stride purposeful.

  “Sheena, Springvale,” she said, placing her own trophy on the ground in front of her.

  “Beastmaster,” Faye said, nodding. “Your companion’s blue eyes are evidence enough of your power. Any mutations?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Sheena said.

  The room buzzed with fresh conversation. Two mutations in a row made the congregated Omegas forget all pleasantries.

  “Speak,” the Queen commanded.

  “Besides being connected with Milla,” Sheena said, motioning down to her fox, “I can turn Corrupted beasts back to normal,” Sheena said simply. “I remove their corruption.”

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  Voices erupted as the weight of her claim rippling through the room. The Queen’s expression shifted to one of cautious intrigue. Lloyd’s attention shifted toward the movement to his right. The King was no longer slouched in his chair, his arms still drapped on the armrests, but his attention fully on Sheena.

  “Quiet,” Faye ordered. The room quieted, but whispers still spread. “Do you mean they become yours, or do you free them entirely?”

  “I free them,” Sheena clarified. “They lose their powers but keep their size. I’ve only done it once, but it worked.”

  The Queen regarded her for a long moment before nodding. “Remarkable. Step back.”

  Lloyd’s stomach twisted as Regal stepped forward next. His brother’s confident demeanor gave him a shred of hope, but it didn’t last.

  “Regal, Breakwater,” he said, unsteadily untieing the head from his pack. After a few moments of fumbling around, he presented the head to Queen Faye. A few stifled laughs echoed through the room, but Regal didn’t flinch.

  The Queen studied the offering, her expression neutral. “Resistance to physical damage,” she said. “Not a mutation, but rare and valuable. Do you mind if I test?”

  Regal nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  Faye drew her dagger again and slashed at Regal’s exposed arm. The blade pressed against his skin but failed to leave a mark.

  “Impressive,” she said. “And I see you have a mutation as well. Explain.”

  The room lost it. There was no semblance of order anymore. They forwent the line and quickly circled Lloyd’s group.

  Regal hesitated, then said, “I can taunt enemies. It draws their attention to me, forcing them to focus on me instead of others.”

  The Queen’s eyebrows lifted. A smile grew on her face as a few moments passed before she spoke. “A wonderful pairing of abilities. Step back.”

  Lloyd’s heart pounded as Faye turned her attention to him. “Last,” she said, her gaze piercing.

  Lloyd stepped forward. His nerves were at an all-time high. Instead of attempting to untie his trophy, Lloyd put his whole pack on the ground in front of him, boar’s head facing the ceiling.

  “Lloyd, Breakwater,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him.

  Faye frowned. “I do not have a Lloyd from Breakwater here. I have a Cassius with electrical abilities but no Lloyd. Explain.”

  The room grew deathly quiet, every eye fixed on him. Swallowing hard, Lloyd spoke. “That’s correct, Your Majesty. My brother Regal and I traveled with Cassius. He was killed early in our journey. During the fight, I Ascended. My power is Telekinesis.”

  Faye’s expression didn’t change, but her next words hit him like a hammer. “I see into your soul, Lloyd. Telekinesis is not your power.”

  Lloyd’s throat tightened, and his chest felt like it was caving in. He struggled to form words under the Queen’s unrelenting gaze. “If telekinesis isn’t my power, then… what is it?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

  Laughter and hushed whispers floated through the room.

  The Queen didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes narrowed as if delving deeper into him, reading something even Lloyd himself didn’t understand. When she finally spoke, her voice rang with a finality that silenced even the whispers in the hall. “You are an Absorber.”

  A ripple of hushed murmurs broke through the silence. The tension in the room thickened as the word hung in the air. Lloyd felt his stomach drop.

  “An Absorber?” he repeated, the term foreign and heavy on his tongue. “What does that mean?”

  The Queen’s lips pressed into a thin line before she answered. “It means that when you kill, you take the power of your victim. Their abilities become your own.”

  The room exploded in gasps and exclamations. The very air seemed charged with shock, awe, and fear. Lloyd stood frozen, the Queen’s words echoing in his mind. He barely registered the movement until he saw the King stand, his towering frame drawing every eye in the room.

  With a faint pop, the King vanished from his throne and reappeared mere feet from Lloyd. The sudden proximity made Lloyd’s pulse race. The man’s presence was overwhelming—his dark trench coat still stained with beast blood, his golden sword glinting ominously at his side.

  Run a voice whispered in Lloyd’s head. It wasn’t his own, and it wasn’t from anyone near him. The alien thought made him shudder, but he forced himself to stand firm.

  “Your Majesty,” Lloyd managed, bowing his head slightly.

  “Look at me,” the King commanded, his gravelly voice leaving no room for disobedience.

  Lloyd raised his eyes, meeting the King’s piercing gaze. Up close, the King radiated an aura of raw power and authority. His expression was unreadable, but there was a dangerous edge to his presence.

  “You have perhaps the rarest ability in this Kingdom,” the King said, his voice low but carrying easily across the hall. “I have only known three others besides myself with it—my wife, my late brother, and his wife. You could not possibly have been born in Breakwater. Only those with this powerful of an ability must have been directly next to the initial impact.”

  Lloyd’s breath hitched. There were so many answers in the King’s explanation, but many more questions boiled through his head. “You’re an Absorber, too?” he asked, his voice shaky.

  The King nodded once, his eyes never leaving Lloyd’s. “How do you acquire your abilities? beast or man?” The question cut through the air like a blade.

  Lloyd’s throat felt like it had closed entirely. He struggled to find his voice, but when he did, the word came out barely louder than a whisper. “Man.”

  The hall erupted into chaos. Voices overlapped as people shouted, whispered, and gasped. The weight of their collective judgment pressed down on Lloyd like a physical force. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms.

  “Enough!” the King bellowed, and the room fell silent instantly. He took a step back, giving Lloyd space. “Demonstrate your power.”

  Lloyd hesitated, glancing toward his companions. Colette looked pale, her eyes wide with concern. Regal gave him a stiff nod, a silent reassurance. Sheena’s expression was unreadable, though her gaze was sharp, evaluating. Her eyes pinned to the King.

  “How?” Lloyd asked, his voice steadying despite the anxiety knotting his stomach. “Which one?”

  The King’s eyebrows raised slightly, the admission of multiple powers drawing a fresh wave of whispers. “Any,” he said simply, shrugging off his trench coat to reveal a muscular frame. “And do not hold back.”

  Lloyd summoned his staff; the blue crystal no longer affixed atop. It boosted his powers, but not as much as before. He extended a hand, telekinetic tendrils coalescing around the King in an almost visible shimmer of energy. With a grunt of effort, Lloyd shoved the tendrils forward, aiming to throw the King back.

  The King barely blinked. With a casual wave of his hand, the telekinesis dissipated like smoke in the wind. “Boring,” he said. “Again.”

  Lloyd’s heart pounded as a voice—not his own—resounded in his mind once more: Fight.

  Electricity crackled to life in his palm, the bright arcs dancing erratically before he thrust them toward the King. The lightning struck with a deafening crack, illuminating the room in a harsh blue light. The energy surged over the King, arcing off his body harmlessly.

  In an instant, the King vanished, reappearing inches from Lloyd. His fist connected with Lloyd’s chest in a controlled but devastating blow, sending him skidding backward across the marble floor. Lloyd’s ribs screamed in protest as he struggled to his feet, gasping for air.

  The King returned to his throne with a single step and sat down, his posture relaxed. “Satisfactory,” he said, his tone flat.

  Lloyd limped back to his group, his breathing labored. Colette immediately stepped forward, her hands glowing as she healed his injuries.

  The Queen addressed the room, her voice cutting through the lingering tension. “Thank you all for making the journey here,” she said. “Training begins the day after tomorrow in the courtyard. Until then, you are dismissed.”

  Her gaze lingered on Lloyd as she spoke the final words. “Welcome to the King’s Guard.”

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