A hushed and pensive silence took over the room as the kids' breaths seemed to come to a collective halt. The woman strutted proudly onto the raised platform that they all stood below, and Eight couldn't help but be reminded of a proud peacock showing off its plumage.

Her vibrant, red lipstick contrasted sharply with the feathery-blue mask that adorned her face, glittering so brightly that Eight was worried it would blind her. A turquoise dress ran down her figure, trailing behind her like soft feathers and just barely brushing past her ankle.

Miss Heathershine. Everyone knew her and what she was here to announce.

She stopped in the middle of the platform, caressing the microphone and picking it up off of its stand gently. "Ah, already so quiet? I was expecting a rowdy bunch, but that's not the case," she giggled. The kids' joined in with nervous laughter too, if not to rush things up.

"I know you're all nervous about your Quarter placements, but remember, no Quarter is better than the other. Whether you're a C or an A, you all possess your own strengths and weaknesses."

Miss Heathershine took a breath.

"And, even if you remain a D," some children hissed as she mentioned the word, "don't lose hope! It's still your first year being Quarter-placed. It just means you'll get more time to prepare for when you're promoted in the next three years!" she finished cheerfully, nodding her head.
She seemed like she was trying to convince herself as well. Her mask caught onto the light that streamed down from the glass ceiling, casting it with a sharp glow that made Eight instinctively turn away.

Eight wanted to be like Miss Heathershine. She wanted to be lucky enough to be given such a powerful mask. However, she first had to get into a Quarter.

"Alright, let's begin!" the woman announced, grabbing the blue purse that resided on her side. It was supported with golden chains. How did she not notice that? Miss Heathershine rummaged around for a while, until a closed envelope seemed to emerge from the purse.

Straightening it out, Miss Heathershine cleared her throat before carefully thumbing the edge of it with her painted nails, tearing it swiftly and removing the paper inside. She deposited the torn envelope back into her purse, now just left with the paper that would decide all of their futures.

"Placements for class D," she began, "are Zero-zero-six, Zero-thirteen, Zero-ten and Zero-fifteen. Please make your way back to Quarter D immediately."

A small sound left someone once Quarter D was announced, and everyone's eyes immediately landed on him. Zero-thirteen. That's when the dam broke. An ear-piercing shriek tore from his throat as he barrelled through the crowd, throwing people around in his haste to get out of the gathering hall.

"Zero-thirteen! Behave yourself!"

The boy turned around sharply, glaring daggers at Miss Heathershine. "No! I was going to be in Quarter A! I was sure of it! How did I mess up, Miss? How?!" he cried, waving his arms around wildly.

By now, the crowd was moving away from him, probably trying to give him space. "You already have a mask! I don't! I probably never will!"

A girl, Eight recognized as Zero-zero-six, approached the boy by breaking through the crowd. She gently putting her hand on his arm.

"Thirteen, please-"

"No!" he yelled, shoving her away. The girl landed a few feet away from him on the floor. Before anyone could think, Miss Heathershine was there, the feathery part of her dress trailing behind her like a cape. Everyone seemed to gasp collectively as she gently placed her hand on his arm.

She looked angry. The boy froze.

"Zero-thirteen, all of us here are gracious, whether it be in the face of victory or defeat. Please, leave with dignity," she growled between gritted teeth. The boy huffed, shaking Miss Heathershine's hand off his arm and stalking towards Quarter D. She turned her head to Zero-zero-six.

"Six, are you alri-"

"Yes I am, Miss Heathershine," the blonde hissed, following after the boy. She seemed to be favouring her left leg, cautiously applying as little weight onto it as possible. She hoped Six would be okay; she did have weak bones after all.

The other two slinked by, trying to avoid the chaos and be as invisible as possible. Miss Heathershine sighed, rubbing her temples with her hands. Zero-thirteen's temper was notoriously short. That must've been why he didn't end up in Quarter A. Oh well, there were always the next years for him.

Miss Heathershine turned around sharply, the feathers on the end of her dress not ruffled in the slightest, seeming to bounce with every movement she made. Eight was jealous. She wanted a pretty dress too, and a fancy purse to hang down her arm.

"I apologize for the interruption," the woman cooed, "however, let's not have that ruin the mood!"

Most, if not all of the kids, were visibly relieved. Some looked upset, no doubt friends of the kids who ended up staying in class D, but that didn't last long. Any class, from C to A, guaranteed a spot for you to receive further training. That was a blessing in itself.

"Time for Quarter C announcements," Miss Heathershine began tiredly, skimming the paper in her hand that was now partially crumpled from the earlier scuffle.

"Zero-twelve, Zero-sixteen, Double-zero-two and Double-zero-four, please make your way to Quarter C," she finished, pointing her hand to the corridor just to the left of her. The sound of someone whooping was heard, and Eight faintly recognized him as Zero-twelve, a slightly older boy with wild red hair.

A blur passed her and she realised that Zero-twelve was weaving through the crowd gracefully, like a swift fish in a stream. He really was destined for Quarter C. Anything else would be a waste of his grace and speed. The rest of the called children made their way to their newly announced Quarter, albeit more slowly than Zero-twelve. Eight could never be as fast as he was.

"-Eight, are you okay?"

She jumped and snapped her head around, glaring at whoever was whispering in her ear.

Green eyes stared back at Eight in concern, and she calmed down immediately. Zero-zero-one. She was a short girl, with dark hair and the kindest smile she'd ever seen on a human being. She and One quickly became friends as soon as they could walk, and she remembered the stunts they would come up with that would always make the caretakers upset. No matter, those days were behind them. They were getting their masks soon. They had to be more responsible.

"I'm fine," Eight whispered back cautiously, keeping an eye on Miss Heathershine.

"Oh, I thought-"

"Now that Quarter C has been announced, let's get on to Quarter B," Miss Heathershine interrupted the two, clearing her throat. The hand on her shoulder squeezed harder, and she was silently grateful for the support One was offering. One was smart, like her. She was definitely going to end up in Quarter B, it was basically a fact. Maybe she would too. Maybe-

"Placements for Quarter B are Double-zero-five, Double-zero-seven and Double-zero-one. Please, make your way to Quarter B immediately."

What? Her name wasn't in there. Her heart dropped. No, no, no. She was supposed to be in Quarter B with One. This was a mistake. This had to be a huge misunderstanding.

Eight wanted to lift her hands and scream. Did that mean she was a Quarter A? That was impossible. Quarter A was meant for people with strength; people like Zero-thirteen. It was unfair, he should've got the place instead of her. She was as frail as a piece of paper-

"Eight? You're panicking, I can see it," a hurried whisper came from behind her. "Stop it. When you panic you think of the worst. You still have a Quarter. Just work hard, okay?" the hand on her shoulder released.

"No, I can't-"

"Don't tell me that," One hissed, placing the hand over her lips instead. "I have to go, but relax. You'll do good."

The words seemed stuck in the throat as One backed away from her, leaving the hall at a slow pace towards the Quarter B section. She glanced quietly back at Eight before finally closing the door, the last one to go into Quarter B. By now, only four people remained, leaving her exposed and frightened. They seemed to pass short questioning looks to her, trying not to be too obvious. She knew what they were thinking. The weak girl couldn't possibly be a Quarter A. They'll see that she's useless and demote her soon, trust me-

"Alrighty!" Heathershine laughed. "Well, it's pretty obvious that all of you are Quarter A's, so there's no need to announce."

Heathershine leaned in closer to her microphone conspiratorially. "Just a little secret, I've always favored Quarter A's more than the rest," she winked playfully at the kids, moving the microphone back to an appropriate distance from her face.

"Well, you may move to your Quarter. It's right behind my podium," Miss Heathershine gestured with her hands, "over there."

Why was Miss Heathershine so happy? Did she not know that she wasn't supposed to be in Quarter A? There was definitely something wrong. The other three kids were already moving to the Quarter, deftly ignoring Eight in favour of the silvery door that marked the beginning of their new lives.

Eight looked desperately to Miss Heathershine, hoping she would somehow sense her gaze and turn to look to her, but the woman kept her head dutifully down, rummaging around in her purse with her perfectly painted nails. She caught a glint of gold on them, and another surge of envy hit her. Now she'd never be like Miss Heathershine.

Sighing, she trudged towards the door behind the podium. Maybe One was right, she had a Quarter. But she would not be staying there for long. Quarter B - the intelligence sector - was her true calling. She would get there one way or another.

What Eight didn't see, however, was the look Miss Heathershine shot her way as soon as her back turned. A wide grin stretched across the woman's lips.

"How curious..." Miss Heathershine giggled softly, right as the door shut behind Zero zero-eight.

---
Beautiful cover by Devious_chicken.

♤♤♤Also, this book has switching POV's between 008 and the unnamed boy.♤♤♤
Personally, I hate putting 'POV OF ___' above every chapter. It seems unprofessional. So here's your warning.