There were no words to describe how Ian felt as his grey eyes stared at his status. Even he didn't know how he felt. His body felt numb and his mind went blank. There were no words and no reaction to the screen in front of him.
He tapped the watch to make the status screen go away and tapped it again to bring it back on, but it remained the same. Seeing the same thing the second time, he flashed a small smile which seemed to bear all of his sadness.
"Why am I even surprised?" he thought. "I've always known that my life sucked. I guess it's a good thing nothing changed. Now they won't have any expectations from me."
"No one can open your status screen except you," the examiner said as if to make him feel better, or so he thought. "But I guess it wouldn't matter much since there would still be an indication to show your tier."
He looked back at the man. "What do you mean?"
"You see those little dots at the edge of the watch?" the man said gesturing to his hands. "Well, they are supposed to light up based on your ability tier. The reason why they aren't lit-"
"Is because I don't have an ability," he completed the man's statement.
"Yes," he replied. "Also, not having an affinity doesn't mean you can't learn an ability."
"It'll kill me if I get an ability I'm not compatible with," Ian said emotionlessly. "You should know that much."
"Yes, I do-"
"But you can try," said the soldier who hasn't said a word since. He walked over to Ian and put his hand on him. "You have great combat potential and with just a little nurturing, I'm sure you'll-"
"Don't give me false hope," Ian said shrugging off the soldier's hand on his shoulder. "You all day that and then leave the weak ones high and dry when you find the talented strong ones. I'm only the first candidate, and I could barely complete my attack. Don't give me that crap about getting better. I know myself quite well."
"Okay," the soldier nodded. "I understand how you-"
"No, you don't," Ian cut him off again, keeping his head down. "What was the point of creating a power indicator if you wanted to avoid bullying."
"Those are for the teachers," the examiner chimed in. "So they know the amount of training you need."
"That'll only bring about favouritism. No teacher cares about a weak student, besides the training would basically widen the gap between the strong and the weak."
"Well, we are doing our best, kid," the examiner hissed, getting annoyed. "Don't act like you know it all. It's nobody's fault that you are weak."
"Yeah, it isn't," Ian nodded. "Can I go now?"
"Do you need a rundown on the power levels?" the soldier asked. "Information is a different strength on its own, and you need the information. We made sure to keep that information off the public."
"Like that actually works," Ian scoffed.
"We're doing you a favour here, kid," the examiner said angrily, with a deep frown on his face."
"I didn't ask for it," Ian retorted. "There are ten tiers of power. Tier 1 to 3 is regarded as the novice level, tier 4 to 6 is the adept level, tier 7 to 8 is the proficient level and the 9 to 10 tier is the master level. There are ten lights here so I'm sure each light signifies a tier. How do you actually think this information was still military knowledge only?"
"Get out," the examiner hissed.
"Thank you."
"Wait," the soldier said. "My name is Sergeant Max Lockey. You can come find me whenever you change your mind."
Ian said nothing and immediately his way out of the enclosed space. He clenched his fist so hard that his fingers dug into his palms, drawing blood.
"I thought if I came here, I could at least change even if it was just a little bit," he thought as he fought back tears. "But in the end, it's all the same. I was born to be inferior."
"Blake Hightower," the examiner called again and the boy with ash-blonde hair stood up immediately and made his way to the podium.
"Watch where you are going," he said as his shoulder brushed against Ian's. To his utmost surprise though, Ian wasn't even looking at him, nor did he stop even once after bumping into him. It was almost like he didn't exist to the silver head and it just pissed him off even more.
"What an entitled brat!" he hissed through gritted teeth as he continued on his way.
Ian made his way back to his seat without mind for whoever or whatever was around him. He was lost in his own world of misery, pain and self-depreciation as he cursed himself, his life and the parents who were so weak that even a combination of both of their genes couldn't make their offspring even a little stronger."
"Just how talentless were my parents for me to not even have an affinity towards any ability," he thought.
He has blamed himself all his life but right now, he couldn't accept that he was so weak that he had no affinity towards any elemental abilities. Even worse, he doesn't have an affinity at all. He needed someone to share the blame with him. He needed a medium to channel all of the pain and frustration he was feeling, right now.
To Ian, the best possible options who deserve just as much blame as him were the parents who made him. He couldn't accept that having no affinity was his fault. He blamed himself for being physically weak, but it was fine as long as he could learn an ability. Now that he realized he can't learn one, it just makes things worse for him and his future in and out of the academy.
"A shitty life indeed," he sighed. "I think I'm better off dead."