Station 1 was the closest station to the gates. Ophelia had taken station 8, while Senna was at station 6, so Nero presumed he wouldn't be able to see either of their results. His heart was like a stormcloud, with raindrops pummeling against the insides of his ribs.
He headed towards his station, which was manned by a blonde lady who looked like she was in her late thirties.
"Good afternoon," said his examiner pleasantly. "I'm Professor Ingrid. You are Nero Verace, correct?"
"Y-yeah."
"Please wear these rings on your non-dominant hand, or your left hand if you're ambidextrous; Ring 1 goes on your little finger, and Ring 5 goes on your thumb."
Nero took the box that Professor Ingrid handed to him, as she went on to sanitise another set of rings - presumably those used by the previous applicant. All of them were jet black, with neon blue lights running under the surface.
He picked up Ring 1 and slipped it over his pinky. At first, it was too large to fit - but once the insides of the ring made contact with his skin, it shrank until it was snug. Once all five rings were sitting nicely on his hand, Professor Ingrid passed him the halo-looking thing.
"Put this on; there are little hooks on it for your ears. Position it so that it covers your eyes, and the insides will inflate to cradle your head. You might feel a little bit of pressure, but it shouldn't be painful."
Over at station 8, Ophelia's halo flashed blue, and Nero's heart leapt into his throat. Senna was still holding on to her own halo - she seemed almost paralysed.
Trembling slightly, Nero picked up the halo and put it over his head. Airbags began to expand, and he could hear something humming.
It was completely dark; even if the helmet lit up green, he wouldn't be able to see anything. He wondered if Ophelia had passed her own appraisal by now, and if Senna had finally broken her 3-year streak. What worried him even more was knowing that there was a good chance only one of them made it in.
Ophelia had said that she wouldn't go to Alcaster if he didn't make it in. Although he would have pushed her to go for it no matter what, Nero couldn't imagine giving up the same opportunity to spare her feelings.
"You may take off the helmet now."
Ah, how cruel. He had to find out the result for himself.
With his eyes tightly shut, Nero moved the helmet down to his lap. There was no residual light coming through, no tint on the inside of his eyelids. He was completely in the dark.
He took a deep breath… and opened his eyes.
Green.
All the weight of the world seemed to vanish from his shoulders. Nero looked up at Professor Ingrid, who was likewise smiling at him, and over to the other stations - both of which were empty.
"Congratulations, Mr Verace. Please proceed to the main building, where we will settle your administrative affairs. Take this with you as well."
She handed him a thin, plain silver ring, nothing like the elaborate black bands of earlier, and motioned for him to put it on. "This will function as your ID tag when you're on campus, so make sure not to lose it. Professor Vamoden will give you more details during the briefing."
Nero thanked her and stood up. Instead of heading for the main building, however, his eyes were glued to the gates, trying to find out if Ophelia and Senna were there.
Try as he might, he couldn't see them anywhere. His spirits lifted. If they weren't looking for him, the only other outcome was that -
"We made it!" squealed Ophelia happily, pulling both Nero and Senna into a tight hug. "Did you see how my helmet lit up blue the first time? My appraiser was like "Sorry, take it off," and I almost died. And Senna! You made it! Congrats!"
Senna was smiling but her eyes were unfocused; she looked like she had just woken up from a fever dream. "Yeah… We made it. This is insane. We're going to be espers."
"We're blocking the path," Nero said, pushing the girls forward. "And it looks like we're not the only ones who passed. That jackass from earlier made it too."
Greyson was grinning widely as he removed his halo from his head, shining a bright green. It irked Nero to know that they would have to share classes, but even the prospect of having Greyson within visible proximity of him was not enough to impede his excitement.
"Let's not bother ourselves with him," said Ophelia, wrinkling her nose as Greyson stood up. "I texted Mom and Dad that we'll be late - they want you to know they're very proud of you too."
The administration office was strangely devoid of people. Two receptionists were seated behind a large counter, with one of them dropping some food into a large fish tank. Upon seeing the new arrivals, they stood up hurriedly.
"Congratulations!" said one of the receptionists. "Please head over to the door on the left, and take a seat in the auditorium."
"Do we need to fill up anything?" asked Senna awkwardly.
"Oh, no," said the fish-feeding receptionist. "The computer already logged in your information when you put on the ring. It's just a formality to have you walk through here."
"Rachel," sighed the other receptionist. "You can't just tell people that."
"What? It's true! Even Professor Vamoden said so!"
"Yes, but it's not professional."
Ophelia giggled as they went through the double door to the sounds of the two receptionists bickering.
"By the way," said Nero, turning to Senna. "Did you know that Greyson's parents? You looked a little apprehensive earlier on."
"I don't know them personally," said Senna, frowning. "But Philbert Darc is a friend of my dad's. He comes from a long line of [Metalkinesis] espers, and all of them are incredibly skilled. His second son, Immanuel, is actually quite famous in Alcaster Academy; he won the Duellist Championships two years in a row."
"So Greyson…"
"He might actually be a dangerous enemy. His dad is about as elitist as mine, but they're both pretty rich and influential."
"No wonder he was so arrogant," said Ophelia. "He's just another spoiled, entitled brat."
"Good looking, too. When you factor in his influential background, he's actually a really desirable partner on paper. Too bad he behaves like a prick."
Nero entered the auditorium ahead of the two girls. It was a grand affair, with dark red carpets and matching curtains that obscured a hardwood stage. At full capacity, it could probably hold a few thousand people. Today, however, only two rows were populated - and neither of them were full.
"There's like, thirty people here," said Nero. The weight of actually passing the appraisal process was beginning to sink in on him. About a fifth of everyone outside so far had gotten in, and all three of them had managed to get a position.
Something was weighing on his mind, though.