Test of potential

The air in the room was thick with anticipation as the children lined up for the next phase of the selection process. Tokubetsu glanced around nervously, noticing the tension etched on the faces of the other candidates. The atmosphere was almost suffocating, a mix of fear and excitement that made every second feel like an eternity.

Dr. Elena Vasquez stood at the front, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the nervous energy around her. "Alright, children," she began, her voice soothing but firm. "This next part of the test will measure your physiological responses and potential abilities. We'll start with the machine test, which will give us an overview of your physical and mental states."

One by one, the children were called forward. Tokubetsu watched as the first candidate stepped up, placing their hand on a sleek, metallic device. The machine whirred to life, its screen displaying a series of numbers and charts that only the scientists seemed to understand.

"What's happening? What are they testing for?" Tokubetsu whispered to the girl beside him, his curiosity piqued.

"They're looking for signs of dormant abilities," she replied, her voice barely audible. "Things like energy levels, brain activity, stuff like that."

When it was Tokubetsu's turn, he felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck. He stepped up to the machine, his heart pounding as he placed his hand on the device. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the screen lit up, and a series of readings appeared. Tokubetsu strained to make sense of them, but it was all a blur of numbers and graphs.

Dr. Hiroshi Tanaka, who was monitoring the machine, gave a slight nod. "Interesting," he muttered, making a note on his clipboard.

Tokubetsu's stomach tightened. "Is... is that good?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Dr. Tanaka looked at him, his expression unreadable. "We'll see," was all he said before moving on to the next candidate.

After the machine test, the children were handed a document containing their results. Tokubetsu scanned the page, his eyes catching on the section that listed potential abilities. The percentages next to each grade were the most nerve-wracking part. His hands shook slightly as he read:

**Potential Abilities:**

- F Grade: 80%

- D Grade: 10%

- C Grade: 7%

- B Grade: 3%

- A Grade: 0%

"These numbers," Tokubetsu whispered to himself, "they're not what I hoped for..."

Just then, Captain Marcus Green entered the room, his commanding presence immediately drawing the attention of everyone. "Alright, listen up!" he barked. "The next test will measure your ability to detect and interact with a special frequency. This is where we separate those who have potential from those who don't. So, pay attention!"

The children lined up again, this time in front of a series of strange-looking devices. Dr. Suki Nakamura began explaining, "These machines will emit a frequency that only those with certain latent abilities can perceive. If you can detect it, it's a good sign that you might have something special."

As the first few children stepped up to the devices, some immediately flinched, their eyes widening in surprise. Others stared blankly at the machines, showing no reaction.

When it was Tokubetsu's turn, he stepped forward, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination. The machine hummed softly, and for a moment, he felt nothing. But then, a faint tingling sensation crept up the back of his neck, like an invisible wave brushing against his skin. His eyes widened in shock.

"Did you feel that?" Dr. Nakamura asked, her gaze sharp.

Tokubetsu nodded, still processing the strange sensation. "Yes... it was like a... a tingling feeling."

Dr. Nakamura gave a rare smile. "Good. That's exactly what we're looking for."

As the tests continued, the room buzzed with whispers and speculation. The children murmured among themselves, some excited, others nervous about what their results might mean.

"I think I felt it too!" one boy exclaimed to his friend, his voice filled with hope.

"Yeah, but what if it's not enough?" his friend replied, his tone laced with doubt.

Captain Green stepped forward again, silencing the chatter. "You'll all get your final results soon enough," he said. "For now, get some rest. The next phase will be even more challenging."

As the children were led out of the room, Tokubetsu couldn't shake the mixture of excitement and fear that had taken hold of him. He glanced down at the document in his hand, the percentages staring back at him like a verdict. The memory of watching Star Force members battle on the news flashed through his mind. He had always thought they were cool, admired their strength, and dreamed of becoming like them. But now, as the reality of his own potential—or lack thereof—began to sink in, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever truly measure up.

Outside, the village was quiet, the earlier excitement now replaced by a heavy silence. The sky had darkened, and the cool evening air felt almost oppressive. The villagers waited anxiously, their eyes following the children as they emerged one by one. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, each parent silently praying that their child would be among the chosen few.

Dr. Vasquez gathered the children one last time before they were dismissed. "You've all done well," she said, her voice warm and reassuring. "Remember, these tests are just one part of the process. Your future is still in your hands, no matter what the results say."

With that, the children were sent home, their minds swirling with thoughts of what was to come. Tokubetsu walked slowly, his head down, deep in thought. The day had been overwhelming, and the weight of it all seemed to press down on him with every step.

As he reached the edge of the village, he looked back one last time at the square where it had all begun. The lights had dimmed, and the crowd had dispersed, but the echoes of the day's events lingered in the air. Tokubetsu took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead.

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