"Is this Order Castor?"
Crey peeked from the entrance to the interior of one of the training halls in this building. By sheer randomness, He was sorted into this Order which was a little far away from the center of Academy grounds.
Compared to other 'Order' buildings he witnessed in the way, it was a little run-down but only relatively. The building was in the shape of curving starfish which was a strange choice for architecture. Crey ignored all of these as he entered the reception but to his wonder, it was altogether empty.
There was no one to greet or guide further, and honestly, Crey wasn't taken aback by that. He was the one with the delayed admission due to injury so he expected himself to be left isolated.
Grumbling at his luck he was about to settle here in the entrance hall when he heard the soft mixed yells from somewhere.
Following the sounds due to a mixture of curiosity and boredom, Crey found himself in front of this training room. At that time voices that were coming from the room had fallen quiet, therefore Crey had no idea what was to expect inside.
Now thinking back, he felt that he shouldn't have poked his nose under any circumstance.
"Hello,...Is this establishment for Order Castor?"
All grieving eyes in the training room shifted straight towards the Crey who was standing at the door of the spacious room. Crey blinked his eyes as he confirmed his vision of thirteen pairs of feet in the air while their corresponding heads were on the floor.
'Oh…sh*t! Are they in the middle of some sort of punishment?'
Crey pondered as he glanced down to see the thirteen students who were doing upright headstands together. Many of them were damp from the sheer sweat, further confusing Crey as he thought of it as some sort of P.T.
"Who are you?"
A lazy voice sounded from one side which finally helped Crey to gaze toward the professor overseeing this training. Crey found the teacher to be a young man with short brown hair and an eye-catching scar on his neck. Surprisingly, he was sitting there in the window, greasing his robotic leg while holding it in his hands.
"I am new admission at the Academy, Sir. Crey Morgan - 1st generation."
"Huh? New admission. But I didn't see you during the Recruit congregation."
"I was in hospital…."
The young professor unexpectedly cut him off as he waved his hand to shoo him without even bothering to listen to his explanation.
"Alright! Go and stand with them. I will take the test for your acceptance in the Order after finishing my leg."
Crey was surprised but it wasn't time to show his confusion as he turned back and walked toward the suffering students who were lifeless in their positions for God knows how long. Unexpectedly Crey found most of them to be gloating which he was sure was directed to him. Either it was that they were feeling glad for seeing him sharing their suffering or there is something else that he has missed entirely.
Crey cleared his head of extra thoughts as he quickly went on his hands to do the headstand.
Torment? not at all. It was mildly inconvenient at best, that too because he was comparing it with a potentially relaxing time he would have been in if he had managed to restrain his curiosity. Sigh! The voices of regret.
Mused Crey as he waited for time to pass on. With an upside-down view, blood quickly rushed to his head as he began to feel the pressure. Within minutes his appearance was similar to thirteen fellows but still, it was nowhere near a problem to him ....yet. Past experiences certainly play a great part in his composure and knack for such weird stances.
Gradually and bitterly fifteen minutes went by, and only now did Crey realize why all of them were dripping with sweat and feeling misery for performing just a simple headstand. In the distance, the professor was brushing his mechanical leg for the past fifteen minutes without any change.
It was like he was caressing his lover as there was barely any progress in his task of oiling his prosthetic. There was a concentrated and leisurely look on his face as he was brushing the dust from it.
Now, Crey's regret had turned into curses upon himself for coming in and inviting this trouble to himself willingly. He moaned again in his heart and twisted his head to the side to relax his neck a little. Only to find his headstand mate staring at him.
"Hello? " Crey whispered while keeping careful not to say it loudly. But the other boy remained tight-lipped like he was too strained to even talk.
'Oi?'
Only now does Crey realize something wrong as he glimpsed at his ruddy countenance. A little chubby boy was red like shrimp with all blood that had rushed into his skull and now putting forced pressure against his eyeballs and brain, which threatened to burst at any time. He was appearing to be at the end of his line.
Crey gulped as he was about to raise a concern for him to the professor when the boy finally couldn't take it anymore and fell down.
'Thump!'
A loud sound brought everyone including the Professor's attention to the boy. But instead of helping, all of them were statutes struggling to maintain their stances, careful to not fall over by themselves.
"Twenty minutes. Good Bunny! You broke your previous record.'
The fallen boy sprang up after hearing his name while still breathing heavily but there was a foolish grin visible on his face. Professor quickly fixed back his robotic leg onto his left missing limb and stood up abruptly.
"*Clap* *Clap* okay-okay, since you broke your record. Today, you are exempted from your sparring assignment.
And for the rest of you…..hmmm you are also exempted. Say your gratitude to Bunny."
*Groan*
A collective groan of relief rang in the training room as the twelve people collapsed together. They went on to remain laying on the wooden floor recovering their lost stamina and breath. Crey too went down after observing the situation but before he could even relax he heard the Professor once again speaking.
"You all are dismissed, except you, new boy. Let's take your test to see what is your thing?"
"Heh?..."