SINS OF FROST AND HEAT

STRENGTH TEST.

Ruby stood at the front of the group, her back pressed against the cold concrete wall as the last few stragglers filed in. She kept her face neutral, though her thoughts were still a storm of emotions after what had just happened. Azamian Camp was already proving to be as intense as she had feared, the unspoken competition thick in the air. But as she scanned the room, something—or rather, someone—caught her attention.

Across the room, standing slightly apart from the others, was a boy who looked younger than most of them. His frame was slight, almost too thin for his loose uniform, and he was noticeably shorter than the rest. His shoulders hunched slightly, as if trying to make himself smaller, invisible. His skin was pale, his eyes darting nervously around the room. But what stood out the most was his face—sharp and beautifulin an unexpected way. There was something oddly captivating about him, but also something off, something he was trying to hide.

Ruby frowned, her gaze lingering for a moment. Liam Kunene. That was the name she had caught during registration, though she hadn’t heard anything else about him. His appearance didn’t fit the usual profiles of the kids from either the Developed or Underdeveloped Zones. His background was a mystery, and the way he carried himself only added to the enigma. His body language screamed timidity, but there was a quiet alertness in his eyes, like he was constantly watching, measuring.

For a brief second, their eyes met across the room. Ruby didn’t look away, and neither did he. There was no animosity in his gaze, but no fear either. Just... curiosity, maybe? Before she could figure it out, he broke the connection, turning his head away. She felt a strange, inexplicable tension between them—two people who hadn’t exchanged a single word but had somehow acknowledged each other’s presence.

Their silent moment ended abruptly as the door to the room hissed open, and the Camp Director re-entered. Behind him was a testing machine—a bulky, silver structure with mechanical arms, a series of sensors, and three color-coded lights above it: 'blue', :green', and 'grey'

Ruby's breath caught in her throat. She knew what this was. The 'Strength Test'.

The director’s cold voice echoed through the room, his gaze sweeping over each of them. “You will be evaluated based on your physical and mental capabilities. This test will determine your initial ranking within your group. Your result will be displayed in one of three colors. 'Blue' indicates exceptional strength and leadership potential. 'Green'signifies capability—adequate, but not exceptional. 'Grey' marks the weak. Those with grey will need additional training.”

A quiet murmur rippled through the room as the kids processed the weight of his words. Ruby, like the rest, already understood the stakes. Being labeled as grey meant more than just extra training. It meant weakness. And here, weakness was a dangerous thing to show.

"First," the director said, "Ruby Kaba.”

Ruby stepped forward, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on her. She forced herself to remain calm. Her father’s words whispered in the back of her mind, 'Ukose shetu Kaba'. Don’t embarrass us.

The machine’s cold, mechanical hands reached out, gripping her shoulders, her arms, measuring her muscle tone, her heartbeat, her mental reaction time. She stood still, her jaw clenched. Her body felt rigid, the pressure mounting.

A moment later, the machine’s lights flashed. First, blue. Then again, blue.

A wave of disbelief washed over the room. Blue. Not just once, but twice. The rarest score possible. Ruby felt a jolt of relief, though she tried to keep her face impassive. Her fists unclenched as the director announced her new role. “Ruby Kaba, you are now the Captain of Group Four.”

The room buzzed, and Ruby stepped back into the line, her head held high. She hadn’t realized how badly she wanted this, but now that she had it, there was no turning back. There was power in being captain, but also more scrutiny, more responsibility. Everyone would be watching her now—waiting for her to slip.