"Well, maybe I wouldn't have been hit if you could have been drawing its attention!"
"I DID, asshole, why didn't you shoot the thing?"
"It shot ALL of us! Why didn't your magnetic variable work, Stu?"
"Well maybe if dorkboy over there hadn't just sat there glass-eyed, I could have figured it out in time."
"Yeah, it's all Trey's fault!"
It had been at least three minutes of this. Just listening to the rest of his group bicker about why they all were going to fail. And finally, it seems they had made the logical conclusion and turned on him. Trey sighed weakly, a hand ruffling through his snowy white hair as he found himself completely unable to make eye contact with those who were supposed to be his groupmates. He had failed them....or at least he had once they decided without him that attacking the simulation was the best idea. The entire group had been wiped out within seconds of each other, just three sets of exploding psychokinetic shots enough to wipe the unprepared team out. Only Trey had been spared; he assumed it was because he had never engaged with it in the first place.
Seeing his squad's unconscious forms on the ground had done very little to inspire Trey's confidence. Yes, he had a short-range physical variable in his hand, shaped into the form of his favorite bow staff, but it wasn't like he really knew what he was doing. All the others had the idea of how to use their mental, spatial, and physical types. Trey could...whack someone with this. That was about it, really. He had been the oddball of the group. Even though he had tested positive for both a mental and physical type, only the physical seemed to react to his energy. Moreover, something even more curious had happened-when his trainer, a helpful woman by the name of Ms. Womack helpfully supplied him with the information that his mental type would react once he filled it with his Psychokinetic energy, he found that sentence to be pitifully untrue. It was a curious mishap-his Psychokinetic energy was rejected by his mental type, instead choosing to remain dormant. Throughout their entire hour, they tried everything they could think of, but no reaction had been determined. Trey was left with an optimistic speech from his trainer before being rejoined by his group for the exam.
And because of his group's quick elimination, Trey had determined that there was no point in even trying. With a mental type he didn't even have a clue on how, or even IF, it worked, and nothing but a bow staff of a variable, he knew an attempt at taking out the sim would just end with him falling on top of one of the others. So in the corner he sat, staring up at the simulation as it coldly stared back, no reaction given from either one of them. His mind was utterly blank until he heard the movements of his team once again.
He had failed. What was he going to tell his father? One of Psychen Academy's deans...the news that his own son had failed the test would be quite the embarrassment. His cheeks flushed with humiliation just at the thought of the scolding he would surely be receiving when he returned home that evening. Just then they had finally concluded that everything was his fault. They had begun to converge upon him...
DIIIIING! "The examination period has concluded. Will the following people please report to the corresponding classrooms immediately..."
Oh, thank goodness, the sim was over. He could leave without a possible beating and go home, hopefully to hide from his father the rest of the night.
"Bishop, Claire, Blanc, Prier, Darvish, Trey, Fujiyama, Haruka, Lecce, Yvette, and Scarletfever, Anchovy, classroom B-4."
Wait. Why was he being assigned to a classroom? He had figured that the failed students would be sent somewhere closer to the entrance. And why was he the only one of the group whose name had been called?
"Hah! Turns out Trey's the only one who failed! I guess just proving you had the guts to attack was the test!" While he was halfway certain Jackson was just wishful thinking, he couldn't deny the possibility. Regardless, the classrooms were nearest the door he had hunkered down by. As it unlocked at the completion of the sim, he slipped through it and bolted, hoping he could get out of sight before the group could even think to chase him.
Unfortunately, in that short burst of speed, he had managed to get lost, despite knowing nearly all the halls by heart; he had toured them with his father at least a dozen times. Eventually, he finally made it back around to the classroom he needed to be in. It seemed the students from the other group who had been called had already arrived.
"Who's Trey Darvish?"
And they were talking about him, too! Trey's cheeks burned scarlet as he quietly walked up to the doorway after everyone else had gotten inside, sticking his head inside the doorframe.
"Um, I'm Trey Darvish..." His voice was quiet, his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he slunk into the room. "...do you think we passed...? I'm the only one of my group who got called." He took the seat in the middle and on the left, taking somewhat nervous glances at the other students in the room. Were these his new team or something? He wished someone would just come in and tell him something, get the weight off his chest. Did he pass, or was he going to have an awkward story for his father tonight....