"Thank you! Thank you!"

  The unmistakable voice of a well-practiced presenter, along with a thousand muffled beats of applause, reached Darren's ears.

  He sat backstage in a dinky metal chair. His foot tapped nervously against the floor as his hands fidgeted with the cuffs of his newly ironed black suit. For the first time in months, he wore his hair slicked back, and the fabric of the formal clothing felt unfamiliar against his skin.

  "Welcome, everyone, to the fifty-seventh annual Ability Research Summit! Before we begin, let's give a quick round of applause for this event's wonderful sponsor and organizer: NXGen!"

  How the hell did I end up here? Darren thought, trying to ignore the presenter woman's impossibly perfect enunciation. Everything about his situation made him feel impossibly out of his depth. The closest he'd ever come to what he was about to attempt was the thesis presentation he'd given ten years before -- but this time, it wasn't a crowd of sleep-deprived med students waiting for him. Beyond the curtain were hundreds of the world's most accomplished ability researchers.

  "What do abilities do? How do they work? Why do they grow? For centuries, mankind has pondered these questions. Nearly all the answers remain unknown - but today, we hope to come one step closer to the truth."

  After thinking for a moment, Darren realized he was likely the second weakest of the hundreds of people in attendance. The only person with a lower level than him was Meili, a freshman in high school... and even then, the difference was a measly point. A few mistakes, and it would be over for him. High-tiers had next to zero charitability for their 'lowers' - he knew very well - so why the hell had he decided this would be a good idea?

  A raise, he thought, trying to refocus himself on the prize. It was for a raise.

  "Everyone knows that high school is the most crucial time to grow one's ability and that combat is generally the best way to go about it. But how much is too much? How little is too little? What's the difference between once a day and once a month? Our first pair of speakers approached this critical subject with a novel case study."

  Likely sensing his unease, Meili sat down in the chair beside him and poked him on the shoulder. "I think the speaker's going to introduce us soon," she whispered. "We'll be fine if we just do things as we planned."

  He looked back at her gratefully. "Yeah. Thanks."

  Meili wore a black shift dress with a forest-green blazer, her burgundy hair done in its usual style. Unlike him, she didn't seem particularly nervous - a thankful contrast, definitely. Darren would've had no idea what to do if they were both panicking. He found it a bit worrying that he had to rely on a girl a third his age... on the other hand, very little about Meili was normal for fourteen-year-old girl.

  He nodded to himself, thinking back to all the times he'd been impressed by her adult-like comprehension. It would be up to him to calm down and do his part.

  "Let's give a big round of applause to Doctor Darren Brown, head of student medicine at Wellston Private High, and his student assistant, Meili Strauss!"

  The audience's applause became near-deafening as the pair stepped beyond the curtain onto the front stage. The bright lighting caught him off guard and made him wince. Thankfully, his experience of a prior rehearsal kicked in just in time, and he squared his shoulders, walking with Meili in long, purposeful strides to center stage. Even if you're not confident, he recalled, still try to convince them that you are.

  Meili smiled at their hostess, taking the mic off the woman's hands with a shallow bow. "Thank you for the very kind introduction, Professor Mendosa."

  That was her last name? Were we supposed to remember that?

  Meili turned to the viewers, facing them straight on. "Wow. A bunch of middle-aged scientists. I'm hoping that most of you have children - or an analysis of high school ability growth isn't going to be all that meaningful."

  She paused for the audience's moderate laughter. "I'm joking, of course. Still, let me extend my thanks to all the great minds attending today. By being here, we are all facilitating mankind's pursuit of higher knowledge. That Doctor Brown and I can stand here and share our findings, despite our respective shortcomings, is a greater honor than I can begin to express."

  Darren took a deep breath, schooling his expression into as natural a smile as he could muster. The introduction was Meili's responsibility, but he would be alone once they got into the specifics of the actual science.

  "To begin, I'll share a bit of context," Meili said. "I'm fourteen years old. Of the 5358 days of my life, I participated in combat in 76. Of these 76 days, 72 occurred within the past four months."

  She paused, a cue for him to act. Darren pushed a button on the remote he'd received before the event, powering on the electronic display board behind them. The board displayed a line graph, remaining nearly horizontal for the vast majority of its length before spiking drastically upward.

  "I'm sure the cynical old experts here are rolling their eyes, but this data was not faked or exaggerated." Meili spoke with a self-aware smile, drawing another round of chuckles. "For some odd reason that I'll never understand, my parents never wanted me to fight anybody! Never! And I was a scared, irrational child - far more irrational than average. Even the idea of a droplet of blood on my hands was terrifying to me. I fought twice in elementary school, not even once in middle school, and twice more in my first two months at Wellston High School."

  She grinned into the audience. "I realized, eventually, that it was time I started acting like a responsible human being. So I pushed myself, ultimately fighting 18 times more in a 120-day period than I did in the rest of my life combined."

  Darren had heard Meili's monologue before in rehearsal, and the flagrant deception had always raised his eyebrows. The performativity was deep enough to give an entirely disingenuous impression of her as a person... which was the whole point. To function in this kind of place, with the views she held, Meili had to give off an utterly opposite persona. Through the six months he'd known her, Darren understood her to be a very ambitious person. But what kind of ambition required a freshman in high school to do all this? To rehearse and torture and lie to such an extent?

  After six months of knowing her, he could admit it: Meili Strauss was frightening. She frightened him in a way that none of the other students at Wellston, despite their far superior power, could replicate.

  "You're likely thinking," Meili continued, "that my circumstances four months ago were unique. Very few people decide to wake up one day and multiply the amount of fighting they do by hundreds of times. Very few could physically do so, even if they wanted to. I realized the rarity of my situation as well - in fact, there has never been a detailed case study done on an individual with circumstances like mine." She gestured to Darren, patting a hand on the sleeve of his suit. "Thus, I offered myself up to science. Through the past four months, we've run a battery of daily tests on my body, including aura scans, hormonal tests, blood drawing, and even psychoanalysis."

  "We believe our findings bring us closer to answering the most important question many young people have today: 'How do I maximize ability growth?'" Meili smiled, turning to him. "And here's Doctor Brown to comment in detail on our results."

  "Thank you for the fantastic summary, Meili." Darren accepted the mic from her, grasping it tightly to prevent it from slipping out of his sweaty palms. "In the field of ability research, the level of variation from individual to individual can never be understated. Many of our forbears have tried and failed to apply sweeping generalizations to the whole population of ability users."

  He smiled nervously at the audience. "I assure you, we were not arrogant enough to make the same mistake."

  Darren very nearly sighed in relief at the crowd's laughter. "The purpose of our experiment was to study the causative relationship between changes in fighting frequency and changes in ability growth on the level of a single individual - and then logically infer more generalized theories through analysis." He cleared his throat. "First, allow me to draw a comparison between two periods of time in Meili Stauss' life: the first two months of high school, where she fought in one day each month, and months three through six, where she fought, on average, 18 days each month. We ensured everything remained unchanged regarding diet, training routine, club activities, class schedule, etc."

  Meili discreetly patted him on the back, a signal that meant she thought he was doing well.

  "During the first two months," Daren continued, "she grew from 3.64 to 3.71. In the latter four months, she grew from 3.71 to 4.14 – an approximate tripling in monthly growth rate."

  He let the impact of the words sink in. "We had further interesting findings regarding aura concentration, aura output rate, and changes in hormonal composition. If everyone could direct their attention to the figure on the left…"

  .

  .

  .

  "And Dr. Brown, could you remind me of your specialization? I'm sorry. There have been so many faces today, and I'm not the sharpest anymore when it comes to memory…"

  Darren exchanged his eyeroll for a (he hoped) disarming smile.

  "I completely understand, Dr. Silva," he answered. "I dual-specialized in Aurology and psychiatry in medical school; both are quite useful at my day job. I also have a Master's in medicinal chemistry... though I don't use it for much other than tonic creation."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  To many cynics, an afterparty at any event was not an afterthought but the main course - Darren was naturally one of them. Still, despite the internal feeling of shamelessness, it was at least working. Now two hours into the afterparty, he'd already exchanged business cards with a handful of high-tiers, all power-holders at reasonably large hospitals, research labs, or biotech firms.

  Unfortunately, all of them knew Darren was a 4.2, so they tended to be dismissive of him. They had all hesitated to grant him the company backdoor access he was looking for.

  Dr. Andrey Silva was attempt number eight. According to Darren's investigations, he was a senior executive at AuxLabs (a prestigious aurology lab), with an ability level in the lower sixes. The older man stood upright yet relaxed, sipping from a glass of champagne, with his graying hair worn in a slicked-back wave. His expensive-looking suit perfectly contoured the muscular lines of his body.

  "I see. I should have known, given the class you demonstrated in your talk." Dr. Silva's eyes ran up and down Darren's face. "I happen to run a project with a similar focus: trying to uncover the micro-level processes behind ability progression. I would love for you to stop by my lab sometime and take a look around. We could use the advice of a man like yourself."

  He smiled. "You would be well compensated for your time, of course."

  To rephrase: you don't have to know anything about me, but you expect me to know who you are and which lab you run, Darren observed. And now that you know I'm useful, you expect me to help you out.

  It's always like this.

  He felt a bit jealous, or more than a bit. Here was a man who fit all the requirements of high society, what Darren himself fell short of. Even surrounded by high-tiers, Dr. Silva seemed just as comfortable as if he were on a leisurely afternoon stroll. And why wouldn't he be? Dr. Silva was among the most powerful in the building - it was up to others to make themselves appealing to him, not the other way around.

  "Of course," Darren replied, smiling more, faking everything about himself. "It's funny you mention it: I've been considering a career change lately. Working at Wellston Private is fulfilling but also quite stressful, and I'm not getting any younger."

  Dr. Silva chuckled. "I can relate - my age tends to make me envious of the youth in this industry. They possess an energy I no longer have... Which was why your young assistant was so shocking to me!"

  "I'm sure you still have many years left at the helm, doctor."

  "Please, there's no need for that! Meili is such a great presenter, and to think she's already able to speak at the summit - it's incredible, really. She'll arrive where I am and blow past in no time at all."

  "That's very gracious of you. I'll make sure to pass the message on to her."

  It'll be Meili all day and forever unless I try to be explicit.

  He coughed into his hand, trying to mask his hesitation. "And if it's not too much trouble, sir, I was wondering if AuxLabs had any open full-time positions. I wouldn't want to force you to make an improper commitment, but it's always been a goal of mine to work with you."

  Mentally, Darren winced a little at his corny acting, but Dr. Silva nodded, seeming to take him at face value.

  "I wouldn't worry about that. I've been around too long to let such little social pressure influence my decisions." Dr. Silva looked away and stroked his chin, thinking to himself. "Now, let's see here…" A look of realization crossed his face. "Ah! That's right! Alessia's moving to another sector soon, and we still haven't found a substitute!"

  He faced Darren again. "You might have asked at just the right time, Dr. Brown."

  "Uhh…" Darren blinked, his mask slipping due to being caught off guard. "That easily?"

  Dr. Silva laughed heartily. "When you're the one operating things, you don't have to wait for anybody to approve your decisions!" He patted Darren on the shoulder. "I was planning on having you on as a short-term consultant, regardless - so let's think of it as a testing period! If you work well with the team, then you're hired."

  "I - I'm happy for the chance to contribute, sir." Now shaken, Darren began to reevaluate all the negative judgments he'd been making about the man. Was I too quick to slap the label of 'arrogant, pretentious god-tier' on him?

  "Perfect. And Alessia was getting 240, so how does 190 sound to you?" Dr. Silva asked. "I assure you, I'm not so cruel as to be one of those bosses who undercut their lower-tier employees by 40, 45 percent. To be perfectly honest, the business practices I see these days are…"

  Oh. Darren's eyebrow twitched. It had slipped his mind that even reasonably well-meaning god-tiers tended to be 'fairness challenged.' Maybe it's for the best that I never planned to sign on to begin with.

  He hoped Meili was having a better time than he was.

  ***Beautiful***

  Things were going a little too well. All I'd done was give the introduction to a well-received talk, yet…

  "And Meili! I forgot to tell you about how incredibly gorgeous our headquarters in New Boston is! It's right on the coast, with a perfect view of the city skyline - and the weather in the summer is perfect! You'll be in the city over break, right? You would be welcome to visit us anytime…"

  I rubbed my index finger and thumb over my blue gemstone earring, my ears automatically shutting down at the sound of my eleventh promotion spiel from an ambitious startup founder.

  Admittedly, it was really no surprise. Recruiting a god-tier to a crappy, reputationless, five-employee company was probably the best way to quickly attract investors and eyes. But all the god-tiers in the industry had already been snatched up (or started their own company), and 'likely future god-tier' became the next best option.

  I was 'likely future god-tier.' I was the next best option.

  I glanced down at my phone, eyes widening at the sight of an email notification.

  "…We actually have another intern coming in over the summer. I'm not just saying this to say it; I really do think you'd like him! He's a student at-"

  "Sorry," I interrupted. "I've already accepted a dedicated internship at another company."

  The brunette twenty-something who'd been prattling my ear off, a high-tier in her own right, was reduced to staring silently. "Excuse me?"

  "Exactly what I said," I replied. "In three months, I'll start as an intern at NXGen. You know, the sponsor of this summit? My speaking at this event was actually their recruitment test, a way for them to evaluate me."

  I held up my phone, showing her a recently received email from my recruiter at NXGen. "See here. My contact says I'm in. I'm sorry - your company sounds really interesting - but I could never pull out of my agreement with NXGen. Not when they're the frontrunners in the space."

  "O-Oh! Is that right?" For a moment, I could see some anger in her eyes, a small chip in her mask, before she squashed it down.

  "Three months is a long time to change your mind, though, wouldn't you say?" Her smile was a bit too wide, her tone too strained. "Let me tell you, Authority-backed corporations like NXGen are certainly well-funded and powerful. But they're also ultra-slow and conservative compared to smaller startups. As I see it, if you want to experience the cutting edge of research, you'd be better off working with a less established firm…"

  I rolled my eyes, tired of hiding my annoyance after a day full of acting. From a certain point of view, her tenacity was admirable, but we'd already crossed the line into harassment two steps ago. Now, how do I exit the situation without bruising her ego too much?

  I cleared my throat.

  "I'm sorry, Ms. Agaria, but it's about time for me to head back to Wellston. Headmaster Vaughn has us on a strict curfew, and I need to be back at the dorms within the hour." I made a slight, apologetic bow. "I'll be happy to take your contact information – I still have many summer breaks ahead of me, and I might write you next year."

  There was an awkward pause of silence.

  "Of course! Here." She could only fake another smile and hand me her card. "You just seem so mature that I forgot you were still in high school! Have a safe trip back!"

  I glanced down, catching a glimpse of her tightly clenched fist. "Thank you. You drive safely, too."

  With that, I turned around and began to head to the parking lot, making eye contact with Darren on the way out.

  Two hundred seventy-eight business cards, huh? I mused to myself. Where the hell am I even going to put all of these?

  .

  .

  .

  The roads were quiet at night.

  Illuminated only by streetlights and the starry sky, Darren's convertible felt a little small, bumping and humming along the empty streets. I rode shotgun next to him as we drove, eyes aimed upward toward the vast, empty expanse above us. Even with a partner to talk to, we both remained utterly silent. It was both 'odd' and 'right' at once.

  We were both worn down, physically and mentally, due to the day's events. The weather was also relatively warm for March, to the point that, even at night, Darren and I had decided to leave the top of his convertible unroofed. I took advantage of the open air, choosing to busy myself stargazing instead of blabbering mindlessly. I'd had enough conversation for the day - or a few weeks.

  Interestingly, nobody in this world had grouped the stars into arbitrary, animal-themed constellations yet, so I took the opportunity to crown myself the primogenitor of astrology. Ooh. Let's make that wobbly line of stars into Crocus, the crocodile. And those five stars in a circle-like clump? Yeah. You're Armad, the armadillo constellation…

  Unfortunately, as the driver, Darren had to keep his eyes on the road. Without a similar safeguard against boredom and awkwardness, he was the one to give in first.

  "How was it?" He asked quietly, his gravelly voice even scratchier from a day of talking.

  "I'm carrying a pound of phone numbers in my bag." I shrugged. "I'd say it went pretty well. Did you end up making it?"

  Darren snorted. "Told you you'd be a hit." He yawned, slowing down the car for safety's sake. "I did alright on my end. I should be able to threaten Vaughn into giving me a big raise. I got a single offer, but all I need is one - the point is just to show him that I have another good job lined up."

  He sighed. "Though, if you can believe it, the man who gave me the offer calculated my level tax right in front of me."

  I sucked in a breath. "Tell me you're lying."

  "I'm serious," he said. "He spelled it out explicitly. The person before me was getting 240, and he shaved it down to 190 out loud for me to hear."'

  "Shit." I shook my head helplessly. "That must have been awful."

  Left unsaid, for both of our comforts, was that a 20% cut was just about as good as he could ask for. My parents were similarly 'under-leveled' in their fields, less dramatically than Darren, and they were getting undercut by somewhere in the range of 25%.

  "I'm sorry," I blurted out, suddenly feeling like I had something to apologize for.

  He looked at me weirdly. "Sorry for what?"

  "I don't know. It's just - you must've had a hard time today. Harder than me, I know that. And none of the people who are prejudiced against you will ever think to regret their attitudes." I avoided eye contact with him. "So I guess I feel an urge to take it upon myself, as someone who will end up in a similar class, to apologize in their place."

  "That doesn't really make any sense, though. You're responsible for your own actions. That's it. If an elite-tier kicks the crap out of a low-tier, I don't feel like I've done anything wrong," Darren pointed out.

  If I were actually fourteen, I'd have pouted. "I never said it was a logical urge."

  Eventually, we stopped at a light, and Darren turned to face me again. "You know something, Meili? I lied my ass off today about wanting to switch jobs, but that doesn't mean I'm planning on staying at Wellston forever."

  "Yeah?" I didn't look away this time.

  "I've always been curious about what it's like to work at a hospital," he clarified. "The traditional doctor experience, if you will. And Wellston City Hospital is the closest to my apartment."

  He let out a tired laugh, running a hand through his hair. "When you hire me, Miss future god-tier, make sure to set my level tax at 0%."

  Ah.

  For the first time that day, I smiled genuinely. "I'll see what I can do."

  At that moment, we were only two humans under the vast night sky.