The land was lusterless, with neither decoration nor ornament to be seen. It was a room bearing but one purpose, where such things as elegance and sophistication meant nothing. A beaming light blessed the considerably grandiose area with its radiant glow, basking every soul that resided within the monumental hall in its much-needed luminescence.

Tables littered the ample room, randomly appearing in the most obnoxious of spaces, some residing not even metres away from another. At the same time, few easily possessed more than a quarter of the room to themselves. The distance they spared one another was the true antonym of homogeneous. Yet, as in opposition to such furniture, the people residing behind the creations were the very such definition. Their dresses, a sleek black, clung tight to their ample bodies embellishing whatever curves they possessed. A loose grey jacket lay strewn across their shoulders in a dernier cri manner akin to that of a virgin killer dress.

A singular symbol lay embossed atop their right breasts, threaded with the most magnificent gold. It possessed an appearance akin to that of a book, one left open for the humid air to impregnate. Its pages appeared to be numbering many, holding a considerable girth and yet it wasn't the symbol that deserved proper reverence but the lettering underneath, for sewn with the very same thread appeared a sentence that to the common mass was akin to that of the highest order of an aristocracy.

{Enuma Esper academy}

It was the name of a school, neigh an academy, one that housed the very pinnacle of society, the espers, those who awakened random abilities before even reaching adolescence, a feat not too uncommon among the majority populace, the women who possessed an astounding 80% chance to awaken whereas, for men, the already sparse alternative to their species such chance was a measly 5%.

Such individuals littered the space, whether it be from behind the heterogenous tables or in front. In fact, they lined the entire academy, for as the name would suggest, Enuma esper academy was indeed a locale that accepted only espers. And it was in the hall filled with the dissonant sound of myriad abilities that a boy, no older than 17 sat before one of the many uniformed women.

The child wasn't handsome, nor neither was he ugly or even plain. He sat upon the very upper echelons of average, on the precipice of good-looking, with long untamed brown hair that fell languidly upon the very bridge of his pale white jaw and absentminded eyes of chocolate brown that didn't quite see the same world as the woman before him. His face was without noticeable flaw; however, neither was it perfect, resting once again in front of the very monolith that stood between him and being objectively good-looking.

"Eros, Year 1 Class F, is that correct?" The woman before the youth asked, her face expressing a show of utmost indifference to his unique appearance before her, for in the hall, as expansive as it may be, right now, he existed as the sole representative of his sex, the only concurrent male in the land, the only one left to be examined.

"Yes," The boy dreamily mumbled, his eyes still weighted from the night prior with soft suitcases lining the very edges of his chocolate brown organs.

"Good, and your ability is…."

"Partial analysis," The youth bearing the name Eros interjected, seeing the apparent difficulty upon the woman's face as she tumbled through page after page of parchment that lined the top of her makeshift workplace.

"Yes, that's correct, though may I ask you to not interrupt me like that in the future," The woman retaliated, to which the youth could only lackadaisical nod his head. It wasn't like he wanted to interrupt the woman. He just saw the apparent chasm in her manner of speech and felt the subtle need to help her along.

"Now, regarding your ability, you can identify the name and power of any woman you gaze upon when active. Please gather my details," The woman requested as the first test in her examination, to which Eros could only oblige.

His gaze rested upon the woman for but a second, before, without even the inkling of an overt effect, a scroll invisible to all appeared before him.

{Name: Salina Shelly}

{Age: 32}

{Race: Human}

{Ability: String manipulation}

However, instead of simply ending there, at the promised contents, more words revealed themselves to the youth, forming a section he had kept secret his entire life.

{Love: -5}

A love metre, a gauge that displayed the affection of those around him solely directed at himself.

"Your name is Salina Shelly, your ability is String manipulation…and oh, you're 32 years old," Eros stated, the latter half of his statement earning him an unsavoury look from the woman who clearly didn't take too kindly to having him blurt out her true age, a reaction only further intensified by the supposed love metre which displayed a significant -10 drop in affection.

"Y-you're right," The woman hissed with ground teeth, barely resisting the urge to entangle the youth, binding him to the very floor that had been scalded and charred not even moments prior to his visit, "And is that all your ability can display at the moment, no additional information such as height, weight, etc.?" Salina continued rather unfond of Eros's current capabilities, let alone if he had the option to disclose such vital information.

"Yes, that's all," The boy lied as he always did, for never once in his life, from the moment he had awakened the ability to the very present, had he ever uttered the truth to his ability.

"And has your esper ability improved over the past few months here at Enuma academy? Any progress at all? Can you analyse items now, males, etc.?" The woman continued listing the flaws such an ability named partial analysis possessed, for indeed, it was the very definition of that limited, fragmentary phrasing, for the boy's gift worked solely on members of the opposite sex.

"No," Eros blandly stated, tired of the same question he had posed since the very moment he had awakened such talent.

"I see. That will be all, then. You will remain an F rank esper," The woman decided, acting judge, jury and executioner to such verdict. However, her statement didn't end there, for with a sour voice, she continued, "Like all the male esper's here."

Yet, her hoarse taunt would go ultimately unheard and uncared for, for the moment Eros heard those tantalising words branding him as the person he had always been, he freed himself from the stern steel chair that lay bolted to the scorched concrete floor underfoot, the adolescent had no need to remain here any more, lest he wish to bathe in the self-deprecating view of his peers and their paramount gifts.

A sight Eros oddly chose to partake in, for without his ability active, he surveyed the land, taking in the mystical scene that befell him from a teen the same age as him, sporting a vibrant head of silken crimson hair stained a violent orange from the flames that shimmered within her grasp to the chains of concrete that erupted from the ground courtesy of a flaxen-haired beauty, every girl within the world was destined to be stronger than him, neigh to be stronger than any male in possession of the same classification, for even the most potent male's esper ability would never be able to score greater than an F.

Still, the boy would not remain placid for long, as within seconds, he resumed motion, trudging towards a grandiose wall and the monolithic door forged of the finest, most intricate dark wood that awaited him. It, too, lay embossed with the same bookish piece of symbolisation that lay dormant atop the examiner's heart, the symbol of Enuma esper academy, a mark that, despite carrying mixed feelings within the hearts of all males gathered under such collective, bolstered their desirability immensely.

Placing one's hand upon the frigid door, Eros's muscles began to strain. The door was monolithic in nature, requiring every ounce of force the teen could muster just to crack it at the seams, yet, it was a feat he still managed to accomplish, for although draining, Eros had managed to free himself through the crevice he pried at which point he was greeted with the most conceited form superciliousness his mind could conjure, a hall decorated in the most pointlessly grandiose manner possible. With drab stone arched ceilings akin to that of a church, it lay gaudily adorned with masonry of gold; never happy with sporting but one trope, it had to be a whole cathedral in a corridor, multicoloured light stained the polished Bocote wood floor, dying it in its holy hue, for the source of such kaleidoscopic radiance originated from the ostentatious stained windows that sporadically clad the sides of such structure.

Eros walked upon such a path illuminated by the forced polychrome light of the sun for what appeared to be minutes, his every step bolstered to an ear-piercing degree of clarity courtesy of the structure's void-like atmosphere where no such student spare for himself currently cared to tread, until eventually, the youth stopped, appearing before a door made of a flowery purpleheart wood, the boy knew this room, of course, he did, it had been his classroom for the many months he spent at his mystical fustian school, bearing a hanging sign spared no abuse one could faintly make out the word 1-F.

Still, despite knowing that such a place was where he belonged and that his current absence only pertained to the time he spent in the exam hall, Eros didn't immediately head inside but instead moved to the nearest prismatic wall of glass at which point he glanced at himself in the reflective surface.

His pale white, almost sickly skin stained a variegated hue reflected back in the illusory surface, showing him a contorted, synthetic version of himself, one whose colours bore no right to exist in reality, only presiding in a world of stained glass. His uniform, usually consisting of a relatively vapid obsidian blazer lithographed with the same golden symbol of Enuma Esper academy and sporting an undercoat trimming of the same gaudy shade, hung loose and unbuttoned atop a long sleeve silken shirt of alabaster, black boots forged of the finest monster hide lay waste to the child's ankles, shielding them from view while also bolstering his height by a rather unimpressive margin, monotone grey fabrics of the highest order adorned Eros's legs cowling them in a full-length shield of such a bleak form, yet, in front of such skewed reality, the original could be perceived as little more than a falsehood, a bland retelling of a chromatic story never to be told.

Still, the boy did not move over to the motley of artisanal hues to admire his drapes, but instead, himself, for unknown to all, his left eye instantaneously flickered in an obscure pink light before revealing a status that should only appear for that of the opposite sex.

{Name: Eros}

{Age: 17}

{Race: Human}

{Sex: Male}

{Title(s): —}

{@#$%}

{Ability: Matchmaker}

A scroll that listed the very status of the boy himself, albeit though barring the additional love metre, yet, it was upon such status that the truth to his ability was revealed, a reality he dared not display nor knew how to the universe as a whole, he had partially lied in his exam, from the very moment he gained such gift Eros had done nought but lie, for he could appraise males with such ability, or rather one male, himself, Eros was the sole victim of his own gift, he had always been, though it wasn't like such fact would mean anything to the examiners who only cared about the practicality and power such ability could possibly carry, of which there was none.

'I suppose I should head in now,' Eros inwardly commented, his attention shifting from the picturesque image of himself towards the foreboding door that appeared to clamour for his attention.