"Na?" she asked, her hands poised over the paper on the desk, her gaze steady and unrelenting.
"Aldrich Aldaman," he replied, standing tall on the opposite side of the desk.
"Your purpose of visit?" Her voice carried the practised monotony of soone who had asked the sa question a thousand tis.
"To take the assessnt test for Eldora Institute," he answered, his tone laced with enthusiasm.
Her brow arched montarily before settling back into place. "When did your mana beco active?"
"Recently," he said, keeping his tone neutral.
"How recent are we talking?" she pressed, her pen hovering over the paper.
He hesitated, his fingers fidgeting. "About a week ago."
As he expected, she frowned. He braced himself.
"You awakened your mana a week ago, and you already want to take the assessnt test?" she asked, disbelief creeping into her otherwise professional deanour.
Protocol, though not mandatory, suggested candidates should have at least three to four years of mana manipulation experience before attempting the assessnt test.
This tifra allowed individuals to develop familiarity with mana flow and proficiency with the Art they specialize in.
Awakening only a week prior scread inexperience—a glaring red flag.
"Yes," Aldrich said firmly. "I was in a coma for the past five years, and now that—"
"I'm not interested in your story, Mr. Aldaman," she cut in, her tone sharp. "Answer only the questions I ask, and answer with precision."
'Rude,' Aldrich thought, though he shrugged off the tone with practised ease.
"Yes," he continued. "I want to take the test now because I believe I'm capable of it. I don't think there's a rule that prohibits from applying. Is there?"
She stared at him for a mont before exhaling sharply. "No, there isn't," she admitted, punctuating her statent with a brisk jot of her pen.
She tore a rectangle card from a stack, handing it to him.
"This is your temporary identity card. It will grant you access to the testing rooms on the third floor. Take the corridor to your right as soon as you exit the staircase—or use the elevator." Her tone returned to the clipped professionalism she had shown earlier.
"Thank you," Aldrich said, tucking the card into his pocket as he headed for the elevator.
The ride up was uneventful, the faint hum of machinery the only sound accompanying him.
Exiting on the third floor, he followed the directions precisely, eventually reaching a waiting room where he t an official who showed him the identity tag.
The tag details had to be confird that the information matched what was on their database.
And when it checked out, the official handed him a tag and pointed him toward the seating area.
The waiting room, however, was far from what he had envisioned.
Aldrich stepped inside and was imdiately greeted by a long queue of applicants, all seated in a room charged with restless energy.
Frustration etched their faces, a thin veneer of patience barely holding their sanity together.
It was an atmosphere that seed contagious.
His heart sank further as he was led to the back of the room, the rows of occupied seats stretching endlessly before him.
No seats were available in the front or middle sections; he was directed further and further until he reached the very last row.
He plopped into the final seat with a groan, already questioning his timing.
Was this ordeal praiseworthy? Absolutely not.
No sane person would willingly subject themselves to the purgatory of waiting at the back of a line this long.
But they had to. Eldora Institute deserved that much accolades to have people from different regions doing their hardest to get in.
Even if it ans bearing with the long ass queue they have going on in here.
Granted, calling it a do or die situation was an exaggeration, but for so of them if not most, do or die situation couldn't be farther from their reality in concern to Eldora Institute.
Aldrich settled into his seat, his eyes fixed on the front of the room while his body remained stiff and upright.
Barely two seconds passed before his sanity began to waver under the bright fluorescent lights.
He tapped his toes rhythmically on the floor, his impatience manifesting in small, unconscious movents.
Soon, his fingers joined the dance, drumming a pattern against his thighs.
"You nervous?" a voice beside him asked.
Aldrich turned his head, his attention caught.
The speaker was a teenager with tousled brown hair and a nervous energy that mirrored Aldrich's.
"Yeah, too," he continued, not waiting for a response. "I just can't stop thinking about failing. Like, what if I don't et their requirents? What if I don't get in? You know, depressing stuff like that"
On any other day, Aldrich might have preferred silence.
No, he certainly would have. Especially if his options were to interact with soone battling such conflicting, depressing motions.
But considering the length of the queue and the likelihood of waiting hours on end, a conversation didn't seem like the worst idea.
"Aldrich," he introduced himself, offering a small smile.
The na Aldrich was sticking in better than he had imagined, easily rolling off the tongue.
"Trevor. Trevor Noah," the other replied, his voice trembling slightly.
Aldrich tilted his head. "Is that a Trevor, Trevor Noah? Or just Trevor Noah?"
Trevor chuckled, visibly relaxing at Aldrich's humour. "It's just Trevor. Though, to clarify—first na Trevor, last na Noah."
"That's an overly detailed explanation for a simple na," Aldrich said with a grin. "But I get it. Nice to et you, Trevor Noah."
"Likewise, Aldrich—"
"Aldaman," Aldrich finished for him. "Aldrich Aldaman."
Trevor nodded, his initial nervousness replaced by a tentative camaraderie.
The conversation drifted toward mundane topics as they both sought distraction from the tension that surrounded them.
For the first ti since entering the waiting room, Aldrich felt the suffocating weight of anxiety lifts slightly.
It wasn't much, but it was enough.
Now all he had to do was wait—and hope that he could back up his confidence when the ti ca.
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