Breakout

Chapter 4

I hear the deep, resonant roar vibrate in my ear before I shift my head to meet the owner. He only says three words prudently, all in which soundedangry.

"Put. It. Away."

The voice belongs to is a muscular man, wearing dark-figured shades and has a shaved head with hair swerving in patterns.

What's really strange about him, the hair glows red as so does the blood rushing in his face.

It's strange; I know to see his hair this exact way. It's not some sort of power he can give off I don't think, but it's normal for some of us aviants who can do this. Heck, sometimes I get my eyes to turn blue when developing storms radiating over Dallas for miles. We intentionally call it our birthmarks. The markings can range from a strange color onto a certain part of our bodies; from just a few strands of hair, to either fingernails, teeth, or even the marks appearing up on skin. But it doesn't happen to all of us. The condition is rare. Yet, the myth behind it all, whoever has a birthmark is considered more prevalent with their houses.

The man doesn't flinch not once until the pad is put away back into my pocket. That's not a problem because the moment doesn't last more than a second. He moves onto the anterior of the crowd, holds his arms behind his back, kicks the dirt off his shoes, and nods his head to the crowd.

"I would greet you all, but I would be lying to you." He's pacing back and forth without dropping the height of his shades to the crowd. "Welcomes are weak generality proposals given for comforting. I'm not here to comfort." He says the word comfort with enough force I see a spindle of waves escapes his mouth and into the ground, creating what's like a tiny dust storm. I instantly catch on to know he's a Raptor. "I'm here to prepare all of you fresh-meat."
He introduces his name as, Plato. Around the school, he's the Advisor for the Airmen. If I'm enlisted as the potent, I'm definitely should get use to him as much as possible.

We shall not call him professor, a friend, or any type of educator, which he says that's what he's not. It doesn't matter to most of us about him. Whoever isn't an Airman will never see him again until graduation, except for the partial training each potent is required to have.
But that never lasts over a month.

"See me as your voice you will have after the two years you're here," he says. Plato gets onto the topic of why we "newbies" are here. "I'm going to push you into the right potent for the rest of your career. And for your entire life."

He explains there are three unexpected tasks for three days we're required to complete. From each task, we will be rated on a scale of one to ten; the highest number will determine how strong we are. And the results, we are not allowed to learn about our scores.

Plato discusses it's said that learning about our results will hinder us to our next test. And hindering ourselves mentally and physically can be very lethal. No wonder because the stronger we are during one test, the harder the next will be when calibrated from the previous test results.

By the morning of the fourth day-Denouement Day is what he calls it-our results will be averaged to each according potent. We're expected to pack our rooms and report to our official dorms in each wedges for each potent.

"If there are any questions please fill free to not speak them." Plato screens his head once throughout the crowd for a brave contender. But there aren't any and he goes on to form a grin, in the corner of his lips. "I thought so. You are all dismissed. Be ready at an early dawn."

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Day one is mainly the easiest, but the longest to endure.

Today we're anticipated to physically show our skills using our powers, and how well we can activate them. Each of us will have less than two minutes to perform and are free to leave once we're done.