All participants are given a fair chance, powers or not. Anyone to pass is deemed fit to enter our ranks. The military school being an iron fist of power weeding out the weak and controlling the younger generation in a mixture of fear and order established mainly due to the potential threat of interplanetary war.
The exams are based on the performance of the battle and how long they can last against an unfamiliar threat. The grading goes in order from F to S. Earth hasn't had many visitors in a couple of centuries, the universe around them seemingly going quiet to their presence.The threats humanity are facing currently however are numerous and lurking in the shadows, only revealing themselves when the time is right and in their favour.
Earth found it the highest priority to train and control the next generation of powerhouses to survive against all possible threats with brutal efficiency. So oblivion does not claim humanity as it nearly did.
The last time earth had any visitors, it was a massacre that was seared into the memories of all the life existing there at the time, only half of humanity surviving to tell the tale to future generations. With the aid of ancient technology a decent portion of human knowledge and history was preserved only accessible to those with the power to do so.
The genes of the previous generations were thoroughly meddled with in the process of these oncoming visitors as if they had decided to advance the human genome, only after two centuries did a massive change occur in response to this meddling. Powers, a new concept entirely for humanity.
After a while an equal playing field was painstakingly established against unknown extraterrestrial threats. Due to earth being an infant planet compared to the others in terms of their overall technical compatibility in the solar system they were at an obvious disadvantage compared to others.
Earth in response to the past travesties, began enforcing all the youths on the planet to undergo military training at their respected locations. They'll either find the strong ones or make them.
The importance of these exams are paramount for the younger generations. They determine their overall future on the planet. If they will be deemed useful or not. If not, the military deem them useless. If so they are cast aside to the lowest levels of society where most turn a blind eye to those squirming in squalor.
Normally these people are restricted to the most mundane and mediocre life available, not being able to climb any sort of career path whilst lacking all lot of the main necessities and support that most would have. Oftentimes being segregated from opportunities, these people have learned there is no help and they began fostering a burning hatred.
However the military can be more than cruel, often informing the less fortunate weaker people that supplies are needed for the useful. This tends to lead the quality of life of these people to plummet to a bottomless freefall in comparison to those that are deemed useful.
Making his way past the entrance the stairs led up to, Blake is met with a pristine facility stern professionalism reflects at him as he enters. Being guided further in by the immaculate walls reflecting his dishevelled appearance his grungy dark green cargo jacket shows off its battle scars in the reflective walls as he's finally met with the other contestants.
"Power or no power"? The examiner bluntly asks, almost taking delight in asking.
"No."Blake says sternly, trying to wrestle his emotions into submission.
"Only 3 limbs as well." The examiner says as he writes it down mockingly in his registry.
Trying to alleviate his forming stress and anxiety, the familiar flick of his dads cigarette holder is heard comforting him in the process. Pulling out his favourite brand of smoke. A utopian cigarette finds its way onto Blakes lips followed by the lick of a flame.
The examiner notices this, not wanting to let Blake get off easy he chimes in again with a hint of malice in his voice.
"We have a no smoking rule on premises. But for a cripple like you we can make an exception". The examiner says with a sneering patronising tone mocking Blake. The verbal whipping agitated Blake much more than it would normally.
Walking into the exam room now Blake is met by all of the other contestants crammed into one space. The nervous crowd of contestants puts a sense of unease in Blake. The gravity of this exam starts to crash down on him now.His mind is scattered, over the importance of him passing. His inner monologue ran wild.
''If I don't pass this there will be an incredibly small chance of me getting a slot in the retakes. I need to pass this, after everything I've sacrificed I will pass this. Raven won't have to look after her vulnerable older brother anymore.'' Blake affirms to himself as his fingers begin to curl into a first of resolve.
The military gave Blake some mercy and assigned him an assistant for his preparation before the exam. An old philosophy from his father comes forward.
"Remember son if you're up against a wall you just need to create a way through." His fathers words loom in the back of his memory.
A flash of inspiration comes crashing down on him like a lightning bolt. Looking towards his assistant Blake asks him a question.
"If I'm allowed some prep time, then is it okay to visit the military workshop?" Blake questions looking at his assistant lazily working up a snore.
Thinking his job was going to be cakewalk the assistant is met with a grim surprise seeing that the boy before him has more fire than expected considering his situation.
"You are allowed, do you need me to guide you there?" The assistant says through gritted teeth trying to maintain his professionalism through his irritation, annoyed over the prospect of having to actually do work.
Making their way to the workshop, the assistant reminds Blake he has three hours max to prepare for the exam. However this goes in one ear and out the other as Blake sees the wealth of materials available before him in the workshop.
"This is ten times my rent for the month." His mouth fully agape at what he has at his fingertips to work with. A previously impossible idea now starts to surface in Blake's mind.
''Ever since the incident I haven't been the same. I can't compete with the others because of what I'm lacking. So why don't I just build a new arm? These materials should serve me well considering they are provided by the military''. Blakes mind whirs into action as more and more ideas start to brew within his neurons.
He begins to rapidly run through different designs going through multiple drafts and sketches Blake manages to perform a rush job on this creation. Rapidly scribbling out the sketch of his new arm in an almost chicken scratch way of writing.
"Since I'm under a time limit I won't be able to make the fingers operable so a locking mechanism should suffice for now, but I can at least get the wrist to rotate. As long as I can get the general form down though it should be alright." Blake mutters to himself as he runs through lots of different sketches and ideas.
The assistant slowly slips into sleep, trying his best not to alert the focused Blake. Finally taking a drag from his outed cigarette Blake looks over his sketch one more time to make sure he's put all he can with the limited time he has. Finishing the final touches of the sketch the blueprints for his new arm are now complete.
Gathering a variety of materials in front of him now Blake can't help but be greedy, after all it's all provided by the military. Who knows when he'll get a chance like this again. Blake sparks another cigarette before getting to work.
Going over to his assistant seeing him clearly enjoying his snooze he flicks some red hot ash in his face. Jolting the disrespectful assistant awake to do his job properly. Directing his lazy assistant now without remorse. Blake gets to work on making himself a prosthetic. Finally being able to make something of use with the materials being provided to him.
Directing the assistant, Blake instructs him on how to properly cut the metal into the shape he needs. Finishing the final touches and any flaws that the assistant will undoubtedly make. Considering his lack of concern for Blakes finals.
Finally after a while he has the steel shaped into plates and frameworks, now he just needs to work on installing the internals and the plates on the framework. Connecting the internals to the wrist, Blake prepares an ace in his sleeve as he finishes his addition of a red button on the shoulder.
"Let's hope I don't need this." Blake mutters to himself.
Finally going on to fitting the plating a rough attempt at a prosthetic arm is made. He still is grateful all the same no matter what quality it is. Most prosthetics tend to cost you an arm and a leg and he doesn't have many limbs left as it is.
Screwing together the final parts of the prosthetic and tightening everything in place Blake can finally give it a test drive. Ecstatic over having two arms again especially since the new one is holding together.
"For a first attempt this isn't bad" Blake is impressed with his own work.
He leaves his final touch on the new prosthetic, his dads old symbol the shining silver star. Remembering his dads inspiration for the symbol.
''A star's light can shine through some of the darkest of places in anyone and anywhere that's why this is my symbol. Son, know this, there is always light within the darkness''. His dads words flash by as the paint job is finished.
"You have 15 minutes left, kid." The assistant chimes in his lazy tone indicative of his lack of care. He says picking at his nose.
"You didn't think to tell me a little earlier." Blake roars out as a flush of anger surfaces on Blakes face.
"Not really no." A nonchalant tone is heard in the assistant's voice sending Blake into a seething irritation.
"You know you really are useless." Blake says picking up his outed cigarette, relighting it trying to relieve his stress.
With the time that Blake has left he decides to take a gamble. He put his Keepups on max to get here on time. However he has to go all out if he wants to be able to pass this exam.
Without hesitation he starts to plug his keepups into the wall force feeding them as much electricity as their capacitors can handle.Taking a huge risk on the keepups praying they don't buckle under the strain.
After 10 minutes or so the Keepups are fully charged and are humming with excessive energy. Storing them away in his pouch now. With what time he has to spare, he attaches his newly built prosthetic.
Trying to get used to it in what little time he has left. The bulky reinforced steel arm looks rough and out of place looking like boxes of metal stitched together almost looking fresh out of a junkyard. But for Blake this gives him a huge sense of relief just the feeling of bodily balance returning is enough joy for him right now.
"You know kid, I really didn't think you would come up with something like this, especially with what little time you had. Not bad". The assistant chimes in over Blakes satisfaction whilst continuing to dig for gold in his nose.
"No thanks to you." Blake scoffs rolling his green eyes, his anger is evident in the lack of remorse in his tone. Leaving the workshop now, Blake hurries to make the finals on time, yet again.
Tightening the final straps on his prosthetic in place, making sure his stump is secure, it's clunky at first but soon some of the phantom memories of his old arm guide him. Finally managing to store away his keepups.
"I can do this." Blake says letting out a solemn sigh as he forces himself into the unknown. Clenching his fist, steeling his determination one more time.
"Not to burst your bubble or anything kid but your examiner, i heard is going to be the renowned rookie crusher". The assistant chuckles delivering this news trying to piss on his bonfire, whilst guiding him to the exam site. Showing little to know care in the world for him.Finally arriving, the assistant is relieved.
"Thank god, alright kid, my work is done here". The assistant joyously starts to leave Blake now.
"DID YOU EVEN DO ANY WORK!" Blake roars out grinding his teeth together over how useless that assistant was. The rest of the cigarette he had left now burned to the end for Blakes sanity.