CHAPTER 51: PUNCHING UP

Hermes exhaled, cheeks puffed, fingers laced behind his neck as he stared at the ceiling of the Golden Apple prep room.

"Breathe, darling." Somner sat beside him on the bench, twirling a glitter pen and watching him like a coach, or an anxious parent. "You’re just being ranked by the nation. No pressure."

Hermes groaned. "Thanks, that helps a lot."

He took another swig from his water bottle and tried to shake out the nervous buzz in his limbs. It wasn’t working.

Somner leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee. "Need a refresher on how RAM works, in case you blank?"

Hermes muttered, "I already know..."

Somner continued anyway. "Part One: Strength. Hit or kick the machine. Harder the number, higher the score."

He did some splits beside Hermes. "Part Two: Endurance. You’ll be swarmed by training bots. No powers, no weapons, just bare fists. You’re rated on stamina and grit."

He then did a maneuver where he flips himself over while doing the split so his head is on the ground while his spread legs are up in the air. "Part Three is the Ability Test—an enclosed simulation where you use your power to escape a dangerous scenario. Points for creativity, not just speed."

"I know, I know!" Hermes waved a hand. "I still remember my last test, you know."

"Right." Somner said, smirking. "Didn’t you try to eat a chicken mid-test?"

"I thought eating it would give me wings to escape a burning bridge!" Hermes snapped. "Instead, I just got covered in feathers and nearly barbecued myself."

Somner burst out laughing. "You got an F-class. Literal featherweight."

"Thanks for the reminder." Hermes pulled at his sleeves. "This time’s different. This time, I actually know how Power Thief works."

Somner’s expression softened. "Exactly. You’re stronger now. You’ve faced Trivia, uncovered what’s been done to you, and survived everything the Void threw your way. This? This is just formality."

Before Hermes could answer, a staff member peeked through the door.

"Copy Cat." She called out. "You’re up. First arena."

Hermes stood, heart pounding. He gave Somner a shaky nod, then followed her out.

***

The RAM testing center was a massive steel stadium tucked underground beneath the Golden Apple’s east wing. Bright lights shone down on a half-dozen contestants standing in line. Some wore sleek prototype suits. Others looked like they just rolled out of their dorms.

Hermes joined the queue, heart thrumming in his ears.

"Hey." Said a girl beside him, bouncing on her heels. "First time?"

"No." Hermes muttered. "Second."

"I’m aiming for A-class." She said brightly. "Graduated top of my class from Power Tech Institute. My ability’s called Cutting Edge."

Hermes smiled politely. "Nice."

Behind them, a gruff-looking man laughed. "Aim for A-class, huh? That’s cute. You’ll be lucky to hit D. The panel’s brutal these days."

"Ignore him." Another younger man said. "He’s bitter. Third time taking this, and he still hasn’t cracked C."

"Watch it, rookie." The older man grabbed him by the collar.

Hermes stepped aside as they bickered, letting the chaos wash past him. He scanned the audience. Somewhere in that wall of seats...

There.

Pink hair, tucked behind a book. Aphrodite was seated awkwardly in the back row, clinging to the armrest like it might explode. He waved shyly when their eyes met.

Hermes grinned and gave him a wink.

He turned to Somner, who stood watching from the staff section and subtly gestured for him to go to Aphrodite. Somner caught the signal and nodded, slipping away to guide their ally through the crowd.

Then—

"Hermes!"

The voice made his skin crawl.

Eirwyn.

There he was in the front row, waving with that infuriating sweet smile. Wearing a knitted sweater vest, all innocence and politeness, like he didn’t have blood on his hands.

Hermes forced a smile back, though his knuckles turned white.

He could feel the weight of the drive in his pocket. The truth was still safe. The plan was still in motion. He couldn’t mess it up now.

The official called his name again. Hermes stepped forward.

The machine was plain—just a heavy steel block the size of a fridge, designed to absorb and measure kinetic force.

Hermes closed his eyes, took a deep breath...

And thought of Trivia’s scream.

He thought of the look in her eyes. The blade. The blood. Eirwyn’s voice, calm and cruel, saying he would go slower this time.

He thought of the drive in his hand that day. The rage in his chest. The betrayal.

Then he opened his eyes—and punched.

The machine shattered. Flew backward into the air like it was nothing more than tin foil. It sailed across the arena, slammed into a wall, and burst into sparks.

The room went quiet.

A second later, someone yelled, "OH SHIT!!"

Applause. Gasps. Laughter.

Hermes stared at his fist, panting.

The proctor’s voice crackled through the intercom. "Well, that was unexpected. Score... pending repair."

***

Backstage, Hermes sat on a bench with an ice pack on his knuckles.

Aphrodite sat beside him now, tucking his book away. He looked even more out of place here than usual. His oversized cardigan drowned his small frame, and he flinched every time a robot zipped past.

"You did amazing." He whispered.

Hermes gave him a sidelong look. "Thanks for coming."

"I... I wanted to help."

Aphrodite nodded and pointed at Eirwyn. "You want me to read that man’s mind?"

"Exactly. During the Ability Test. That’s when he’ll be most relaxed, most unguarded. You can stay hidden among the crowd. Just reach in when the moment feels right."

Aphrodite hesitated. "What if he notices?"

"Then run. Scream. Do anything. We’’ll protect you."

Somner reappeared then, slipping them a fresh bottle of water.

"Well done on part one, Master." He said, eyes gleaming with pride. "You’re officially a public menace."

Hermes grinned weakly. "Guess I got carried away. I was imagining that the machine was Eirwyn’s face."

"Hah! I would too." Somner agreed.

They all fell quiet as the intercom blared again.

"Next up: Endurance."

Hermes stood, rolled his shoulders, and glanced back at Aphrodite one more time.

"You’ve got this," Aphrodite said softly. "Just... don’t get hurt."

"I’ll be fine."

He stepped into the second arena.

***

Rows of training bots lined the walls. Some humanoid. Some tank-like. All programmed to swarm once the bell rang.

Hermes cracked his neck.

The buzzer blared.

They came at him all at once—fists flying, metal limbs swinging. Hermes ducked, rolled, twisted, letting muscle memory take over. His body moved on instinct. Not graceful. But precise.

He wasn’t just dodging. He was thinking. Calculating.

This was the test. But the real fight was still to come.

And this time, he was going to win.