Mental Test

*Cough Cough*

"Ugh..." Asher opened his eyes blearily. Comfortable, downy sheets were wrapped around his body.

It seemed like he was in a hospital bed.

Asher pushed himself up in an instant, still disoriented. Glancing around him, he found himself in a sterile white room, sparse with any decoration.

'Wait, my arms-' Even when his entire body weight pressed against his arms, he didn't feel a single bit of pain.

They were both normal again. No cast, and no char, either. Feeling his body, it seemed like he did not transform back to his original form when he blacked out.

A thin strand of golden hair tickled his cheek. He let out a breath of relief; his disguise did not break when he fainted.

"You're finally awake. It's almost dawn already." Without him noticing, Harold had snuck beside his bed. The man observed his body for any mishaps in his recovery.

"Hey, I thought you guys didn't help people?" Even through his confusion he still remembered the receptionist lady, who declined to give medical attention to his wounds.

"Only registered Fixers can use our medical services; it's mainly to prevent our systems from being swamped with vagrants and stuff. Even though you aren't a Fixer yet, I pulled some strings to let them accept you." Harold sat down in a seat next to Sophie, handing the girl a cup of water.

Although Asher was thankful for the sentiment, he felt that Harold didn't have to put so much effort to heal him. After all, he could always use his [Nostalgic Room] skill to heal himself.

Harold interrupted him right before Asher finished his thoughts, predicting the meaning behind his silence.

"I know what you're thinking, but you would've been long dead if you weren't treated immediately."

Oh, really?

The man broke into a smirk, a calculative glimmer in his eyes.

"Of course, it's not like I treated you for free. I sense you have the potential to become something great one day. If you live long enough, you owe me a favor, okay?"

Asher gulped. Although he was thankful... he played right into the man's hand with his reckless self-injury.

"But how'd you know I was going to die?"

Harold pointed to his left eye.

It turned jet-black, and a bright white circle surfaced in its center, replacing his pupil.

"What's that?" Asher leaned closer for a better look. He couldn't discern any small capillaries that any normal eye would have.

"A modification from a certain Wing. It's my role as an informatics and interrogation Fixer to be able to collect data efficiently." The man pulled his finger away from face as his eye reverted back to normal.

"So... does that make me a Fixer now?"

"No, I said that I had to pull some strings, didn't I? You still haven't passed all of your tests yet." Harold laughed gently, seeing the disappointment flash across the girl's face.

"Well, let's get this over with then." Asher swung out of the bed in a single motion, noticing the hospital gown that replaced his old, charred dress. He wasn't sure how he felt about someone changing his clothes when he was asleep, but he shrugged it off quickly.

"Follow me to the psyche examination area. I will explain on the way."

As Asher followed the man out of the room and into the hallway, he was again reminded of the completely sterile white color scheme of the Hana Association. It was as if someone simply flung buckets full of white paint over every wall.

It unnerved him the more he bothered to look.

Harold interrupted Asher's thoughts, turning his body around to face him.

"The Hana Association mandates that each Fixer candidate be given a psyche analysis, in order to prove they won't sabotage the City's social order. Basically, as long as you don't enjoy killing too much, you should be fine."

That was fine for Asher. He didn't feel like he particularly enjoyed killing, but he also didn't hate the idea of it, either. It all depended on who he was facing, he thought.

"Due to the nature of my work, I will be your examiner for this test as well." By now they had long since exited the hospital wing and had climbed down multiple sets of stairs.

After another short walk, Harold led Asher to a room with a suspicious contraption in the center. It was a single chair, strapped and fitted with leather restraints. A headset was hanging from the top, and the whole chair's design was sleek and elegant.

Asher knew what it was.

He could still feel the shock of electricity...

'No, this version doesn't have electrical nodes yet- What??' He felt a strange sense of urgency when he stepped in the room, suddenly gaining the urge to bolt out of there as fast as possible.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm down.

"Hm? Sophie, you're shaking? Come, this chair in the middle initiate the next part of the exam." Harold glanced at Asher with concern as the girl quivered in the doorway.

Asher took a deep breath and shoved the uneasy feeling back down where it came from. For all he knew, this uncomfortable feeling could be part of the test.

"What does the chair do?"

"For the exam, this chair will allow me to experience the single biggest memory that had the most emotional impact on you. Using this, I can analyze the mental state of the candidates. Of course, its true purpose is much deeper than merely that." He wiped the chair with a single wet wipe before gesturing him to sit.

Quite understandably, Asher sat down with a bit of unease.

"Wait, how is this any different from magic? So, you're going to experience my memories just like that?" He remembered how Harold called him out in the physical exam for 'magic' but clearly this was even more magical, was it not?

"Singularities are pretty powerful, huh? Wings can't share the details of their Singularity 'cause of the patents from the Head, but M Corp says these use electrical brain waves to recreate someone's memories. Then it's a fairly simple process to..." The man blabbered absentmindedly as he fiddled with the headset covering Asher's eyes.

"Then why can't I say that the explosion from yesterday was part of a Singularity too?"

Harold chuckled.

"Kid, things don't just randomly heat up like that. No matter how magical technology may seem, it can all be traced back to a physical Singularity. And as I said before, your body has no augmentations. Don't worry, nobody will really care anyway, unless you brag about it too much." By this time, Harold had also taken a seat beside Asher, fitting his headset on.

"Ready, Sophie?" Without even waiting a second for Asher's response, he activated the device, causing both of them to black out.

...

Asher trembled as the sensation of snow tickled his lips. He sat up in an instant, flustered by the sharp cold.

Glancing around himself, the architecture of the buildings vaguely reminded him of Sophie's Punishment Mission...

He also couldn't find Harold at all, even though the man said that he would view the memories with him.

"Brrr, how cold! So you came from the upper sections?" A faraway voice caught his attention, and Asher craned his neck to take a better look. Strangely, the voice didn't seem to be addressing him at all.

Harold still looked the same, dressed in a white coat.

But by his side was... Sophie.

What?

Asher noticed that he didn't feel Sophie's long hair tickling his neck anymore. Reaching to his head to check-

'Yup, I'm myself now, not Sophie. If I reverted back to my original form, then is Sophie herself standing next to Harold?' He lurked behind the two, eavesdropping on their conversation.

Sophie nodded her head, but her movements were unfocused and jittery. Of course, Harold noticed the change in the girl's behavior immediately.

"Do you remember this day, Sophie?"

Sophie's eyes locked onto a little blond girl on the street, who was throwing snowballs at an ugly, crooked snowman. The girl fell to the ground in a fit of laughter as a lucky snowball hit the snowman, causing its unbalanced body to tip over to the ground.

When Sophie spoke again, her eyes were glazed over with tears.

"Yes... It was 'that' day."

Harold sensed her sadness, but gently tried to coax the answer out of her nonetheless.

"And what happened on this day?"

Sophie watched as the girl dived straight into the clouds of puffy snow, digging herself out with a wide grin and pink cheeks.

"My mum. She died on this day."