As you should've guessed by now, athletics wasn't my strongest subject throughout high school, nor was I ever interested in changing that. I was too focused on school to prioritize any sports. Sure, engaging in those extracurricular activities could've made me physically fit and potentially gain more friends, but I never had an interest in them. Studying was more important to me, and I never had a problem with it. I was beyond content with sitting in an isolated corner away from social gatherings with my head buried in a book or scribbling notes for an upcoming test while playing music in my ear. It gave me a peculiar sense of comfort.

That bit me in the ass as I almost ate the turf. My back foot lost traction, causing me to stumble forward and forcing me to use my hands to prevent from falling over. I instinctively pushed myself back up and looked ahead of me. 

Shit! The group I was racing in was already close to ten yards ahead of me. If there was a chance of catching up, I had to stop worrying and start sprinting. Besides moving down into the second group, what would happen if I lost? What would Murray or Hayward put me and the other losers through? Would the winners be rewarded somehow? The thoughts continuously raced through my mind as the other competitors gained distance.

Just as I regained my footing, I glanced behind me to see Emily standing staggered in her line with clenched fists and widened eyes, terrified after witnessing my embarrassing moment. What was she thinking? 

Snap out of it! Get your head on straight! I didn't want to discover the consequences if I lost. 

Using this as motivation, I sprinted as hard as possible, pushing my body to the limit. With each step I rapidly drove the balls of my feet into the turf, using it to propel my body to the fullest extent of its speed. I could feel myself flying through the air, shockingly catching up to the people before me.

As I passed the bottom two people in my group, I quickly realized I was running faster than anticipated. As previously mentioned, I was far from athletic. Where was this speed coming from? Was it the motivation? A second wind, perhaps?

It didn't matter at the moment. I didn't care about winning. I didn't want to finish last. I wasn't skilled or athletic enough to finish in first place, but I still needed to try my best for myself and Emily. She was watching me, after all. Thinking of that gave me even more motivation to try.

By over halfway across the field, I estimated that I was near the middle of the group. Normally, I would've been content with that placement, but with how quickly I gained on the rest of the group, why not shoot for first? This was an attitude that I wasn't used to having, especially when it came to physical activities. 

Who, or what created this new personality? Was it the fear of Hayward's punishment for finishing last? Was it knowing that Emily wanted me to succeed? Pictures of Emily cheering me on from the other side of the field flashed through my mind. She couldn't audibly cheer for me due to Hayward looming over her, but it was as if Emily was telepathically screaming her lungs out to finish as strongly as possible. 

Twenty yards remained in the race. Come on, Eli! 

My foot drove unnaturally into the turf, and I felt time slow. Power surged through my body, giving me newfound strength. The ground under my foot hardened before springing me forward at a speed faster than any human should be able to do. I used this momentum to push through the remainder of the race. 

Out of breath, I looked around to see the last few finish through the line. How did I place? Did I finish first? I happened to notice a few stares in my direction. What happened? 

General Murray's voice shook me out of my thoughts. "First place, Elijah Bell. Last place, Lindsey Savoy." 

I finished first!? How was that possible? Looking around, it was clear that the other people in my group were wondering the same thing. 

A different girl in my group stepped up to Murray, who finished writing the results on paper clipped to a clipboard. "General Murray, if I may, but Supreme Leader Hayward never mentioned that we could use our powers during the race." 

"I have no say in the rules," he answered. "If you have a complaint, take it to him. Alpha, you may rest the next round. Tau, report to Hayward for punishment." 

I turned to Tau, or rather Lindsey. Her eyes widened in fear as her long blonde hair was frizzy from a mix of running and sweating from the previous workout. My heart sank at the thought of what Hayward would do to her. However, we couldn't delay as we started to run on the sideline as the next group prepared to start their race. Emily dropped into her stance. 

"What the hell was that?" a voice snapped at me right as the whistle blew. Turning my head to her, it was the girl who had spoken to Murray earlier. 

Confusion washed over me as we ran beside each other. "W-What do you mean?" 

The girl wore medium-length brown hair and deep brown eyes. She immediately intimidated me with the amount of anger boiling in her eyes. "Are you trying to throw us under the bus? It may not have been mentioned, but what you did was bullshit." 

What was she talking about? What did I do wrong? "U-Uh, I'm sorry, but-" 

"Just shut up," she interrupted with an annoyed smile. "You can't pretend that you didn't know what you did. Throwing us under the bus like that was a low blow."

I started to respond, but Hayward looked behind him. "You should already be back in line! Get your asses back to your groups!" 

The girl ran ahead. "We'll talk later."

I was left wondering what I did wrong. Meanwhile, Emily's race concluded with her finishing in the top three. I'm sure she was satisfied with the results regardless of her placement.

Needless to mention, I did not want to bear the punishment that Lindsey had to endure. 

-----------------------------------

Around an hour and a half passed after strength training ended, and all of us were assigned a chore to complete forty-five minutes before lunch. Mine consisted of mopping a portion of the boy's locker room, and I finished with around ten minutes to spare. Eager to find Emily with an empty stomach, I started toward the cafeteria to begin lunch. Only two other people were in the room as I walked in, excluding the security guards who stood still like statues. I chose to sit away from them.

While I waited in silence, I thought back to recent events. Xavian's sudden and traumatizing death started this entire ordeal. What if we hadn't decided to travel to Fera? Would we have been hunted down in Daita? Xavian didn't deserve what happened to him. Sure, he chose to tag with us, but we had no idea this was our fate. Besides not driving to Fera, how else could we have prevented this? 

Similar thoughts plagued my mind until a bell rang. Soon enough, people began to enter the cafeteria with mixed expressions scattered among different faces and body language. Some were eager to eat whatever was served, while others were hesitant to get in line, even after the intense training that ensued not long ago. I noticed some chose not to eat whatsoever, deciding to find a place and sit in silence or with an acquaintance. While this was understandable, it was obvious that they'd have to eat eventually. 

As soon as Emily appeared from the direction of the track and field, I watched her eyes scan the room until they latched onto me. Her face visibly relaxed before striding to my corner of the cafeteria. 

"Hey," she greeted me as she sat next to my right side. Her face was red, presumably from physical training. "How are you?"

Considering the circumstances, how was I supposed to answer such a simple question? "I'm alright, I guess." 

Emily noticed my hesitance and dropped her shoulders. "I'm sorry. That was a stupid question. I don't know why I asked that." 

"No, don't be sorry," I responded, shaking my head. "That's not a stupid question. I'm glad that someone here seems to be looking out for me, so it means a lot to know you care." 

Relief formed on her face. "You're right. Well, do you want to get in line for food before we run out of time to eat?" 

My stomach answered Emily's question for me. A small smile grew. "Sure." 

The two of us joined the increasing line that led into a tunnel, which held a buffet-style counter where the workers made your plate before handing it to you. Small, quiet chatter was heard around me, mixed with workers asking for more food and the complaints of other people around me about the quality of the food. 

Personally, I was happy that food was being served in the first place. I was starving. 

My plate was handed to me. It consisted of a slice of pepperoni pizza, a small garden salad with choice dressing, and a bread roll. Beverage options were water, whole milk, or chocolate milk. I grabbed the bottled water and followed Emily to the same spot we sat before. The pizza wasn't terrible to look at, but I understood the complaints of my classmates. It looked and tasted something like hard, stale bread or cardboard. The salad was dry but manageable with enough dressing. The roll fell to pieces after a small bite of it. 

"The food sucks," Emily said with a sigh. "You'd think they'd at least serve decent food after keeping us captive." 

I subtly nodded in agreement, letting a piece of lettuce fall back on the plate. "Hayward doesn't care enough to feed us proper food. Who would've thought that our Supreme Leader was so cruel?" 

"I feel like most political leaders are completely different people behind the scenes," she responded after swallowing a bite of her pizza. She made a disgusted face afterward and shook her head, throwing down the piece of pizza. "I can't stand this. Are we really going to live the rest of our lives as his guinea pigs? I should be with my parents, helping my mom make lunch for our family, not eating this factory-made food." 

Her frustration resonated with me. I wasn't a professional cook by any means, but I enjoyed helping my mother create multiple dishes together. A memory of us trying to recreate my late grandmother's brownie recipe flashed through my mind. It was my twelfth birthday, and I was upset that I didn't have friends to enjoy the cake and brownies with me. 

"Have you been trying to make friends?" my mom asked me after placing the brownie mix in the oven.

Twelve-year-old me felt a few tears come to my eyes. "I don't feel like I can make friends." 

Confusion swept her face. "Why not?" 

"I don't know," I answered. "I don't like talking to people. When I do, they always find ways to make fun of me." 

My mother furrowed her eyebrows. "What do they make fun of?" 

I pursed my lips, nervous that I initiated a conversation I didn't want to finish. Chuckling nervously, I unintentionally avoided eye contact with her. "Um, it's nothing, really." 

"Eli." Mom crouched down to my level before slipping off the oven mitts. More nervousness washed over me, and tears tracked down my cheeks to symbolize my embarrassment. "You have to talk to me. Who's been picking on you?" 

It took a few minutes for my mom to get me to list the children who'd been bullying me at the time and what they'd been saying. It only got them to stop for a few days before it got worse from that point forward, however, it taught me to appreciate my mother's efforts to take care of me. I never told her that the bullying had become worse, but I learned to ignore it and continue doing my own thing, especially as I matured. 

Things took a sudden turn as the smoke detector rang its siren. My mom hastily turned around to see smoke rising from the top of the oven door. 

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "The brownies!"

Throwing on the mitts, Mom opened the door and reached for the pan of burning brownies. Smoke pummeled from the oven as she set the pan in the sink. She hurriedly opened the window above the sink and grabbed a large towel before waving the smoke toward it. Mom spent a few minutes doing this before the smoke detector silenced itself. 

Mom slumped in front of the sink in defeat. She dramatically sighed. "Oh, goodness. I suppose we won't be eating those." 

Something about the way she spoke made me burst into laughter. It took her by surprise, but she joined in my laughing fit. 

After a moment, Mom hoisted to her feet and swung open the pantry door. She grabbed another box of brownie batter. "This is why you buy extra." 

"Hey, Eli." 

Emily's voice snapped me out of my trance. Her dark brown eyes brought me back to Earth. "You looked lost in thought. Are you alright?" 

"Yeah, yeah," I quickly responded. "I just thought of-" 

SLAM!

A hand slammed against the cafeteria table in front of us. I looked to see a boy with long brown hair and a built physique. He wore a threatening, yet confident expression. Accompanying him was the girl that chided me after our race. The two could pass as identical twins after I realized that both siblings had a noticeable birthmark in the same place on the left side of their necks. 

The boy spoke in a naturally low tone. "If you think the stunt you pulled during training would go unnoticed, you're dead wrong." 

"What's going on?" Emily asked, shooting me a confused countenance.

I assumed this was a continuation of the girl and I's interrupted conversation. "Look, I seriously don't know what you're talking about." 

The brother suddenly reached across the table and grabbed my shirt, pulling me out of my seat. His pure strength caught me by surprise. He raised his voice as if he already didn't have the attention of the entire cafeteria. 

Emily gasped. "Hey! Put him down!" 

The boy glanced at his sister. "Haley."

Haley quickly extended her arm with flexed fingers in Emily's direction, sending electricity that threw her against the wall. Emily gripped her chest and struggled to get up. The onlookers gasped in surprise. 

"Don't play stupid. Everyone in this room knows you used your powers to cheat that race." 

My eyes widened. I looked toward the rest of the group, and nobody dared to speak up. Is that what caused me to win the race? If so, it was an honest mistake. I simply didn't want to suffer through Hayward's punishment. Taryn's words from this morning echoed through my mind. 

It's survival of the fittest. 

I took a deep breath and turned back to the boy, attempting to suppress my anger. "It was an honest mistake. I slipped on my first step. I was trying to catch up to the group." 

A sudden punch to my stomach took the wind from my lungs. The brother's voice became more angrier than before. "Cut the shit, Elijah. The more you lie, the worse this is going to get." 

I've been in multiple different situations like these before. Dating back to the late years of elementary school, middle school, and even high school, I've been framed for false rumors, accused of cheating on tests, and blamed for someone else's mistakes, you name it. For so long, I didn't dare to stand up for myself. I hated the thought of hurting someone else. 

Emily looked at me with frightened eyes. I could tell she was trying to move, but pain held her from doing so. She was hurt. 

She was hurt for no good reason. I clenched my fist and felt the earth resonate with my body. I lost my freedom, my home, my mother, and my best friend. 

I wasn't going to lose Emily. I looked the boy in his eyes. "I tried to tell you the truth." 

Opening my palm with flexed fingers, I thrust my arm toward the ceiling, creating a column of earth that cracked the boy under his chin. The impact sent him crashing against the cement on the other side of the cafeteria. 

Haley screamed. "Riker!" 

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