The Water Trial

Jack Blades turned and approached the edge of the water. But when he reached it, stretched out one booted leg, and then lowered it again, something unexpected happened. Instead of his foot sinking into the liquid, he stepped upon it, as though the liquid surface with all its ripples and shudders were solid, living glass. He put one foot down, then another. His steps were steady, natural, as if defying the laws of physics was just another part of his routine.

He pivoted and stood once more facing his students, hands on hips. "The water's barely one or two degrees!" he boomed out in his commanding voice. "But as you've probably read in the academy's encyclopedia, your cells, modified by the Z Virus, are quite hardy. Not only will they prevent you from getting sick, but they'll also protect you from suffering the effects of hypothermia. An unmodified human would die out here within minutes! Take it from me—the process is quite interesting to observe, but not very educational for our needs."

A brief smirk crossed his face before he added, "Anyway, get ready! The trial starts in five minutes. You can swim in your clothes or completely naked. I don't care!"

A heavy silence followed his words. The young Hunters exchanged hesitant glances before movement broke out among them. They'd known, of course, that the trial would be tough. But even if their teacher claimed their newly modified bodies would protect them, could they really trust that to be the full truth? All of their testing to get to this point seemed to have a hidden agenda meant to weed out the weak, after all.

A freezing wind swept across the beach, creeping into their clothes and biting at exposed hands and faces. Even though their mutated bodies allowed them to withstand extreme temperatures as long as they had enough food to fuel their metabolism, a Hunter's pain system still remained very much intact. Each breath of the wintry air was a stab in the lungs, each gust of wind an invisible talon raking against their flesh.

All except for Alexandre, of course, who stood unmoved and unaffected, the pain nothing but raw information to his unique nervous system.

Despite this, the students began preparing to undress. Curiously, even though most students hadn't cared about nudity earlier in the mixed showers, the open air seemed to make many of them suddenly bashful. A good number of students stripped off the protective gear and clothes that would've quickly become soaked and heavy, but remained in their underwear.

Alexandre was unaffected by such useless embarrassment. He efficiently stripped down to nothing, folded his clothes, and set them on a nearby stone where they wouldn't get dirty.

Silence fell as nearby students stared at him, taking in both his nudity and his complete failure to react to either the vicious chill or the social pressure to remain in his underwear.

"There goes that lunatic again…" one young man muttered.

"That damn teacher's pet, I swear! "another grumbled.

"I hope that bastard drowns out there," spat a third.

On the other hand, the female students giggled and whispered among themselves. Alexandre's perfectly sculpted physique was certainly a sight to behold.

Beside his statuesque friend, Marlon, who'd kept his underwear on like most, burst into laughter. "You're a psycho, man! I hope we're never stranded on an island together. You'll probably eat me without a second thought before we even run out of supplies! What are you, a fucking Zombie?"

Alexandre smirked and replied mockingly, "Don't worry, I prefer fatty meat. William would probably taste better."

Marlon only laughed in response.

Suddenly, a sharp noise rang out—an alarm from one of the surveillance drones overhead.

The test had officially begun.