The silence in the auditorium was oppressive. Hundreds of candidates sat in tight rows, each with their test booklet and pen. The robotic voice that had announced the start of the test still echoed in Helena's mind, blending with the sound of her own pounding heart. This wasn't her first time facing something like this—school evaluations had always been part of life in the fifth caste—but something was different now: the awareness that every word she wrote could determine her future.
She looked at the booklet in front of her. The questions seemed more daunting than she had anticipated. Her eyes scanned the first page, and the weight of the words sank deep:
1. If you were a leader, how would you ensure the loyalty of your subordinates?
2. What would you sacrifice for something greater than yourself?
3. Complete the sequence: 3, 9, 27, …
4. Describe the hardest decision you've ever made and what you learned from it.
"Alright, Helena. Breathe. One thing at a time," she thought. She started with the last question, the one that seemed least intimidating, but as the pen glided across the paper, she realized even personal experiences were being scrutinized.
The hardest decision? Her mind drifted to the moment she decided to enroll in the Process. It had been a choice that required courage—not just to face the challenges she knew would come, but also to withstand the judgment of her mother and grandmother. "You don't understand what you're risking," Mira had said, but Helena had ignored the warning.
With every line she wrote, Helena felt a mixture of insecurity and doubt. When she reached the sequence question, she forced herself to recall her basic math lessons. "Multiply by three. Okay, that's simple enough. The answer is 81." But what seemed straightforward concealed a lingering uncertainty: What if they didn't want the obvious answer?
The second question hit like a punch to the gut. What would you sacrifice for something greater than yourself? The words danced on the page for a moment as Helena pondered. It was a direct question, but one that hinted at darker intentions. What were the examiners trying to uncover? Whether she could betray friends? Give up her life? She chose a vague response: "I would sacrifice my personal safety for the community's well-being." She hoped it was generic enough to appear sincere.
When the alarm echoed through the auditorium, signaling the end of the test, Helena felt immediate relief, quickly replaced by anxiety. She handed in her booklet and left the hall with the other candidates, each carrying their own emotional burden. Ethan was waiting for her in the corridor.
"How was it?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. His expression was tense, though he tried to appear nonchalant.
"Horrible. And you?"
"Better than horrible, but far from good. Who writes these questions? Obscure philosophies for a bunch of desperate teenagers?"
Helena couldn't help but let out a short laugh, the tension easing for a moment. They left the building and felt the fresher air of the cave—a sensation Helena had never appreciated so much.
After leaving the auditorium, Helena and Ethan decided to distance themselves from the crowd of candidates, who were frantically discussing the test questions. Some seemed excited, others devastated, but most were lost in thought. Helena knew it was pointless to waste energy worrying about something she could no longer change.
"Shall we go to the hill?" Ethan suggested.
It was their favorite spot—a small rocky rise where they could see the stretch of the fifth caste's farmland and, in the distance, a concrete-walled building like the rest of the caste. Inside was Commander Julian Hart, the leader of the fifth caste. Helena nodded, and soon the two were climbing the winding path, moving away from the chaos.
Though Julian occasionally appeared in official announcements, it was rare to see him in person. He never left his office, which was far from small. Legends swirled about what lay inside—after all, no one but the leader had ever entered. Some said it concealed treasures; others claimed it was a passage to other castes. Helena was fairly convinced of the latter. To her, anyone with the freedom to travel between castes wouldn't hide in a tiny room forever—it seemed absurd. Besides, she always thought there had to be an easier way to access the other castes. How else did the third-caste guards get here? The only plausible answer was through the commander's office.
Helena got lost in her thoughts and only snapped back when Ethan spoke.
"If I don't make it past this stage, at least I'll know the fifth caste has the best views," Ethan joked, gesturing to the subterranean horizon.
"Only you could find beauty in this rock-filled hole," Helena replied with an ironic smile. But secretly, she knew he was right. The place had something special, a tranquility that didn't exist anywhere else in the underground world.
They sat side by side, and Ethan pulled out a bag he had brought. From it, he took two pieces of bread stuffed with meat.
"A gift from my mom. Thought you might be hungry."
Helena accepted the food with a sincere smile. The taste was simple but comforting, a reminder that not everything in life was complicated.
As they ate, Helena couldn't stop thinking about the test questions. Something about them felt wrong, as if there was a deeper meaning she hadn't yet grasped.
"Do you think they already know who'll pass?" Ethan asked, breaking the silence.
"Of course they do. The test is just a formality. They want to see how we react under pressure."
"Then why not just eliminate us now? Would save them the trouble."
Helena laughed, but there was a bitter edge to her voice.
"Because they want to give us the hope that we have a chance. That way, we're grateful to the system, even as it destroys us."
Ethan was silent for a moment, reflecting on her words. He knew Helena was right but didn't want to admit it.
----
After some time, the two decided to head back to the village. Along the way, they crossed paths with Claire, a girl who had attended basic schooling with Helena and Ethan and had become a well-known figure among the candidates. Claire was short, with short hair and a smile that seemed to brighten the darkest corners of the cave.
"You two look exhausted," she remarked, approaching with an amused expression.
"And you look… way too cheerful for someone who just finished a written test," Helena replied.
"Oh, it was awful. But if I don't laugh about it, I'll end up crying. What about you?"
Ethan shrugged.
"We're trying to pretend it was fine. It's not working very well."
Claire laughed, and the three continued walking together, sharing stories and joking about the test questions. For the first time that day, Helena felt like she could relax, even if just for a moment.
----
When they finally reached the village, the group parted ways, each returning to their own routines. Helena entered her house to find Mira and Selene waiting for her. The table was set with a simple dinner, and the two seemed calmer than the night before.
"How was it?" Mira asked, serving her daughter a plate.
"Hard. But I think I didn't do too badly."
Selene gave an enigmatic smile, as if she knew something Helena didn't.
"This was just the first step, my dear. The real test is yet to come."
Helena nodded, but she couldn't shake the feeling that her grandmother was right. The Process had barely begun, and she could already feel the system's gears turning, preparing for the next move.