There was silence in the air. None of the applicants said a word. No one felt like they could beat Garrick. The furthest someone had gotten on him was 3 strikes. And yet, Clancy had not only surpassed that, he had even knocked Garrick out. His body was still collapsed on the ground, his breathing barely evident.
But just because Clancy had won the fight didn't mean it had been easy. His ribs were broken and he was pretty sure his back would be purple for a month. Zephyr walked over and patted him on the back, which caused him to wince in pain.
"Congrats, kid. Welcome to the OTA."
He extended his hand and Clancy shook it.
"Now follow me, kid."
Zephyr and Selwyn led Clancy out of the hall, while two individuals passed them on the way out. One was a nurse, likely meant to go inspect Garrick. The other was a child, only around 10 or so years old. Clancy's curiosity took the better of him.
"Who' s the kid?"
Selwyn glanced over and smiled.
"Don't worry about it kid. You'll know soon enough."
As they exited the hall, Clancy could overhear the nurse speaking.
"All applicants, please raise your heads and look in this direction. I want you to look at Thomas' eyes."
A few seconds later, while walking down the hallway, there was a big flash in the exam hall. Clancy wanted to know what it was but he knew better than to bother Selwyn with more questions. He dragged his bruised body with the two men and took a bunch of long turns around winding hallways again. Hr had no idea how deep this building was, but it seemed to be huge.
After a few more minutes of walking, they finally arrived at an entrance to a room marked "111th Division."
Selwyn gave a curt nod to Zephyr and Clancy before turning on his heel and disappearing down the corridor, his footsteps fading into silence.
Zephyr stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he approached a sleek panel beside the entrance. With practiced precision, he tapped in a sequence of numbers. A soft beep followed—then a hiss of pressurized air as the doors slid open.
Beyond them lay a wide, dimly lit room. Eight men and women occupied simple beds arranged in two neat rows, each figure illuminated by the cold glow of overhead lights. They varied in age, most were Clancy's age, but there was a blond kid about the same age as the one he saw before leaving the exam hall. It was a dormitory, clearly—but it felt more like a war camp awaiting its next call to action.
Zephyr gestured him to an empty bunk. Clancy trodded over and found a uniform folded neatly on the bed, along with earbuds and a manual simply titled 'OTA'.
Zephyr cleared his throat and began.
"Congratulations to all of you for being selected. The nine of you here are the 111th Division of the North American Regioni of the Organization of Temporal Anomalies. You are within the 99.99 percentile even among the most elite operatives in the world. But that is the only standard we use here at the OTA. We are comprised of humanity's best individuals. Race, gender, creed, it does not matter. For the thing we are fighting against is indifferent to such things. In the coming 6 months, we will be training you in all manner of techniques and preparing you for your first deployment. I suggest you get acquainted for the night before getting some rest. Morning Roll Call is at 0700.
And with that, Zephyr left, the entrance to the dorms closing behind him. Clancy began changing into his uniform for the night. There was a long boy height mirror on the side of each bunk. Clancy took a chance to examine the damage Garrick had inflicted onto his body. His back was tender, and already showed signs of bruising. His ribs were still fractured, although a nurse had inspected him on his way to the dormitory. She had apparently applied some sort of odd viscous liquid to his abdomen. It was hot and burning, but it seemed like his pain had momentarily subsided.
While he was still in the midst of getting dressed, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to find a blonde haired blue eyed man reaching his hand out for a handshake and speaking in italian.
"I can't speak Italian, I'm sorry."
The italian man seemed surprised that Clancy couldn't understand him. Then he noticed the earbuds on his bed and gestured to them. Clancy, confused, put them on.
"Can you hear me now?"
'Whoa. How am I understanding him right now?'
The words from Clancy's earbuds felt like the italian man was speaking english but looking at his mouth he was still mouthing italian.
The man smiled, realizing Clancy could understand him.
"Cool right? They're called Hermes devices."
"The boujee handbag company?"
"No no no. These devices are named after the god of communication and messages, Hermes. They're able to translate 8,000 different languages, including dead languages."
"I see."
The italian man reached his hand out again, and this time Clancy shook it.
"My name is Luca Romano. What is yours, friend?"
"Clancy. Clancy Endicott."
Clancy scanned over Luca. He had the widest smile ever conceived. He seemed to be a very happy person, which Clancy didn't mind., He had dirty blonde hair and stood around 6'3". He was wearing a tank top and the issued uniform pants, with the tracksuit around his waist. He seemed to be similar in age to Clancy, although he wasn't sure of course.
"So, Clancy. How were you selected? How many striked against Garrick, huh?"
"You went up against Garrick too?"
"Of course! All of the recruits here were chosen one by one out of a large group as well. We were all just tested in groups before you were. The record here is Dorian."
Luca gestured to a large man about two bunks next to him. He was a massive dark skinned man covered in scars. He had locks and seemed to be doing pull ups so hard he had bent the frame of the bunk that he was grabbing onto.
"Dorian landed about 13 strikes on Garrick before he was thrown out. I only had 9 before my ribs were crushed."
Luca turned to Clancy.
"So what about you?"
Clancy hesitated. He could have easily lied, concealing the fact that he had literally beaten Garrick into submission. But he felt that it would have been bad to lie to the first person that had been nice to him since coming here. Plus, the results likely would've gotten leaked soon anyways.
"I… knocked Garrick out."
Silence. All 8 pairs of eyes turned to Clancy.
'Holy crap, They're all staring. Do I have food on my face?'
"Sorry, you said you knocked GARRICK out? How?"
"I-uh, I spin kicked him in the jaw."
The crowd around him didn't speak for a moment. Then a black haired girl spoke. She had a British accent and would've been Clancy's type if not for the utter toxic words she spoke next.
"He's lying. How could such a weak looking, pathetic excuse for a man take down Instructor Garrick? He must be lying to try to impress us."
Clancy felt hurt. For one, he didn't lie. For two, how was he weak? ALSO PATHETIC? He might not be a bodybuilder but he certainly wasn't scrawny. He wasn't even the scrawniest one there! There was a literal child amongst the 9 of them, who looked as if he equally didn't believe in Clancy's words.
Luca quickly tried to shoo the rest of the recruits away and back to their beds.
"Alright, alright, well whether or not he's lying, we'll figure it out tomorrow."
He quickly turned to Clancy before also going back to his bunk.
"For the record, I believe you Clancy. You better get some sleep. It's getting late."
And so, Clancy went to sleep, unsure whether telling the truth was the best thing for his new squad to know.