HUMAN RESOURCES: EVALUATION

PART ONE: EVALUATION

The hallway eventually opened into something that looked less like a military facility and more like a processing center.

Rows. Lines. Screens. People moving with mechanical efficiency beneath cold white lighting while recruits were quietly directed from one section to another without explanation. Some sat in waiting areas while others stood inside transparent scanning chambers surrounded by holographic displays rapidly cycling through data too fast for Riku to properly read.

No one wasted movement.

No one raised their voice.

The entire place operated with the terrifying smoothness of a machine that had been functioning for decades without stopping once.

The trainees continued forward in silence.

Riku glanced around carefully as they walked. Different doors throughout the massive chamber were marked with symbols and labels he only partially understood.

COGNITIVE ANALYSIS.

PHYSICAL EVALUATION.

NEURAL RESPONSE.

TACTICAL PROCESSING.

Some of the recruits visibly stiffened after reading those.

Riku included.

"…This feels expensive," he muttered quietly.

Nobody responded.

Not even Ice-Cold over there.

Which honestly made the whole thing worse.

The trainees were eventually guided toward a massive waiting sector divided into long rows of seats facing a raised platform. Several masked evaluators stood there already, dressed in darker uniforms than the transit personnel from earlier.

Unlike the half-masks recruits wore, these masks fully concealed their faces.

No eyes visible.

No expressions.

Just smooth black surfaces reflecting the overhead lights.

Riku immediately decided he hated them.

The recruits sat slowly.

Or most of them did.

Riku dropped into his seat and leaned back slightly, trying to look calmer than he actually felt.

Around him, the atmosphere had changed again.

The earlier shock of seeing SACH had faded.

Now came the tension.

The waiting.

The uncertainty.

Everyone here understood something now.

This wasn't orientation anymore.

This was judgment.

A masked evaluator stepped forward onto the platform.

"Welcome to operational assessment."

The voice echoed clearly throughout the chamber.

"Your performance today will determine departmental assignment. We have positions for field operatives, tactical coordinators, support specialists, and adaptive units. Testing will sort you accordingly."

Simple.

Direct.

Like they were discussing equipment calibration instead of people's futures.

"You are not being evaluated against civilian standards."

Several recruits visibly straightened at that.

"You are being evaluated for compatibility with specific operational roles."

The evaluator paused briefly.

"Excellence in one category may disqualify you from another. Unsuitable candidates are reassigned. Not rejected."

Riku rested his chin against one hand quietly.

So basically: prove you're useful somewhere or get moved somewhere else.

The evaluator continued speaking.

"Testing today will include physical evaluation, neural response assessment, cognitive processing analysis, tactical simulation, and stress adaptation measurement."

Riku blinked slowly.

"…Wow."

A pause.

"…I'm starting to understand what Mom was saying."

Several recruits nearby looked equally disturbed.

Riku frowned slightly.

"I don't even know if I should be terrified right now because I barely understand half of those words."

Nobody laughed.

Not even the loud red-haired girl.

Which somehow made the whole thing feel even more serious.

Riku's eyes drifted around the room again automatically.

The small girl from earlier was asleep.

Again.

One arm folded beneath her head while she leaned against the chair like she was taking a nap in a classroom instead of sitting inside a hidden underground superhuman organization.

Riku stared at her for several seconds.

"…Why is she so comfortable here?"

No answer came.

Not that he expected one.

A little further away sat Ice-Cold himself.

Still calm.

Still carrying that same emotionally exhausted expression like reality itself had disappointed him personally years ago.

While everyone else looked tense, the guy sat there like none of this was worth reacting to emotionally.

Riku narrowed his eyes slightly.

That guy definitely does homework recreationally.

Nearby, the beautiful girl from before sat quietly reviewing information on her wrist display with visible focus.

Professional.

Composed.

Way too composed honestly.

Riku quickly looked away before he got caught staring again.

"…Yep."

A small nod.

"I've found my department."

A beat passed.

"Wherever she's joining."

Further ahead, the loud red-haired girl bounced one leg impatiently beneath her chair like she was already getting annoyed at the waiting itself.

That one definitely looked dangerous.

Then there was the emo-looking girl near the front.

Focused posture.

Focused expression.

Black hair covering one eye.

The kind of person that looked like she'd somehow prepared for this exact moment years in advance.

Riku immediately disliked his odds against her academically.

"…This place is full of freaks," he muttered quietly.

The evaluator's voice cut through the room again.

"Physical baseline testing will begin shortly."

The lights shifted instantly.

Several nearby walls opened simultaneously.

Rows of automated testing chambers illuminated beyond them.

Cold white light spilled across the polished floor.

"Proceed in numerical order."

The recruits slowly began standing.

And for the first time since arriving…

Riku felt something close to genuine nervousness settle in his chest.

Not because of the facility.

Not because of SACH.

But because he was suddenly realizing something very important.

Everyone here…

Had survived long enough to reach this point.

---
PART TWO: BASELINE

The evaluation sector somehow felt colder than the rest of the facility.

Not physically.

Mentally.

The moment the recruits stepped through the reinforced doors, the atmosphere changed completely.

The waiting-room tension from earlier disappeared beneath something heavier—something clinical.

This place wasn't designed to welcome people.

It was designed to measure them.

Massive white chambers stretched across the sector in organized rows separated by transparent reinforced walls. Machinery lined nearly every surface. Scanning arrays rotated overhead while holographic displays continuously streamed biometric information beside nearby evaluators.

Heart rate.

Neural activity.

Muscle density.

Reaction latency.

The numbers updated constantly.

Riku glanced around slowly.

"…Okay."

A pause.

"I suddenly miss being unemployed."

Several recruits nearby looked like they agreed.

Medical personnel wheeled another injured trainee past the sector entrance. The boy looked conscious, though barely. One arm was wrapped inside some kind of stabilization frame while regeneration foam spread slowly across exposed fractures beneath it.

The medics didn't look worried.

Just busy.

Riku watched them disappear through another door.

"…That feels important."

The recruits were separated into smaller groups almost immediately afterward.

Efficient.

Organized.

Like the system had processed thousands of people exactly like them before.

Which honestly…

It probably had.

"Group Seven. Forward."

Riku glanced up automatically.

That was him.

Alongside several others.

Ice-Cold.

Emo girl.

The loud red-haired girl.

And somehow…

The sleeping girl too.

Still looking half unconscious.

"…That cannot possibly be medically approved."

The group was guided deeper into the sector toward a series of circular testing platforms embedded directly into the floor.

Each platform was surrounded by scanning equipment and mechanical support arms connected to the surrounding systems.

One evaluator stepped forward calmly.

"Initial assessment will determine physical baseline and departmental suitability."

The first few tests moved quickly.

Too quickly honestly.

One recruit stepped onto a platform and struck a reinforced impact pillar hard enough to visibly dent the metal.

The display flashed.

STRIKE OUTPUT: 73% — ADEQUATE BASELINE

The recruit's expression immediately dropped.

Riku blinked slowly.

"…So hitting hard and being wrong are somehow the same thing?"

Another recruit entered a sprint chamber.

The signal activated—

—and the guy exploded forward fast enough for air pressure to ripple behind him.

MOVEMENT OUTPUT: 81% — SOLID BASELINE

The guy looked relieved.

Riku watched the numbers cycle through. 67%. 78%. 82%. Different outputs. All of them solid. None of them perfect.

And slowly…

The atmosphere in the room began changing.

The recruits started realizing something terrifying.

Everyone here was already abnormal.

The tests weren't searching for superhumans.

They were categorizing them.

Then Ice-Cold stepped onto one of the platforms.

Still wearing that same tired expression.

"Physical strike assessment," the evaluator said flatly.

The reinforced pillar extended upward.

Ice-Cold stared at it for a second like he was debating whether this counted as effort.

Then—

He struck once.

Clean.

Sharp.

No dramatic movement.

No explosive impact.

Just a single precise hit.

The display instantly flashed green.

STRIKE OUTPUT: 100% — PERFECT CALIBRATION

Riku blinked.

The strike marker sat exactly at the recommended threshold.

Not above it.

Not below it.

Exactly centered.

Like he'd somehow measured the required force beforehand.

The evaluator glanced briefly at the readings.

"…Excellent control."

Ice-Cold stepped off the platform without reacting.

Riku stared after him in disbelief.
"

What the hell…"

Of course he got it perfectly.

The dude was a literal walking android.

Just look at him.

Riku hadn't seen a single shred of emotion on that guy's face since meeting him.

"…Yeah okay. I'm officially convinced that guy practices striking pillars in his spare time."

Emo girl went next.

Also perfect. Also PERFECT CALIBRATION. Also looked like she'd prepared for this exact scenario.

"…Great. Two perfect robots. Wonderful."

Then came the red-haired girl.

She stepped onto the platform and immediately looked annoyed at having to wait for the pillar to extend.

When it did, she struck hard enough that the display flashed orange.

STRIKE OUTPUT: 127% — EXCEEDS OPTIMAL PARAMETERS

She grinned like she'd just won something.

"…Okay that one's scary in a different way."

The evaluator paused while reviewing her metrics.

"Your output exceeds standard calibration," he noted flatly, like he was discussing furniture. "Continue to next assessment."

She looked genuinely happy about that.

"Finally," she muttered, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "Something worth doing."

Riku made a mental note to never be on the opposite side of her in literally anything.

Then came the sleeping girl.

The evaluator had to actually say her name to wake her up.

She blinked slowly, yawned, and somehow made her way to the platform without appearing fully conscious. Riku genuinely couldn't tell if she was awake or sleepwalking.

She struck the pillar once.

STRIKE OUTPUT: 100% — PERFECT CALIBRATION

She was back in her seat before Riku had processed that she'd moved.

The evaluator paused while reviewing her data.

Actually paused.

"…Your performance metrics are exceeding standard parameters," he said flatly, which from a masked evaluator apparently counted as being genuinely confused. "Neural adaptation patterns show unusual… compatibility."

The sleeping girl blinked slowly once.

Then yawned.

Like everything that was just said was interesting information but fundamentally irrelevant to her current interest in sleeping.

Riku stared at her in complete disbelief.

"Okay I officially hate this organization. This girl is either incredibly dangerous or incredibly lucky and I'm not sure which is worse."

Then came Riku's turn.

He stepped onto the platform and stared at the pillar for a second.

The warehouse flashed through his mind. The guards. The casual strength he'd barely understood. The weight of someone's body that had felt almost nothing.

He struck.

The impact was clean. Strong. Not measured. Not perfect.

But powerful.

STRIKE OUTPUT: 94% — HIGH BASELINE

The evaluator glanced at the display.

Then glanced at Riku.

Then back at the display.

"…Adequate performance. Proceed."

Riku stepped down, trying not to look surprised at himself.

The equilibrium testing came next.

The circular platforms embedded in the floor shifted mechanically as the chamber around them reconfigured. Hydraulic systems rotated beneath the reinforced surfaces while nearby monitors began displaying balance metrics, neural stability readings, and motion adaptation statistics.

Riku frowned immediately.

"…Okay why are we going into the giant blender?"

Several recruits looked equally concerned.

The evaluators remained expressionless.

"Candidates will maintain movement stability under dynamic terrain conditions."

The nearest platform suddenly tilted sideways hard enough to make one recruit stumble before the test had even started.

"…So we're definitely going into the blender."

One by one, recruits stepped onto the platforms.

The tests escalated quickly.

The surfaces rotated violently.

Angles shifted without warning.

Entire platforms suddenly dropped several inches before stabilizing again.

Some recruits adapted well.

Others looked seconds away from vomiting.

One guy actually got thrown clean off his platform after overcorrecting too hard.

Nobody reacted.

The evaluators just kept recording data.

Then the sleeping girl stepped onto her platform.

Riku immediately stared at her suspiciously.

Her eyes still looked half closed.

"…Uhh."

A pause.

"Should we really be letting a sleeping child take this test or…"

No response.

The platform activated instantly.

Violent rotational shifts.

Rapid angle changes.

Sudden directional jolts strong enough to throw several nearby recruits off balance just watching them.

The girl barely moved.

Tiny adjustments.

Tiny little shifts in posture.

Like her body naturally flowed with every movement before it fully happened.

At one point the platform rotated sharply enough that another recruit nearby nearly lost balance entirely.

The girl simply swayed slightly with it.

Still looking half asleep.

Riku stared at her in complete disbelief.

"…Okay maybe she's not sleeping."

A pause.

"…Or maybe she's one of those people that just naturally look unconscious."

The evaluator glanced briefly at the readings on his display.

Then paused slightly longer than before.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The girl blinked slowly once.

Then yawned.
---
PART THREE: COGNITIVE ANALYSIS

TIME REMAINING: 00:47

Riku was still three questions deep in a probability matrix when the system beeped.

TIME REMAINING: 00:15

He didn't panic. Okay, he panicked a little. But he also didn't stop working because the alternative was watching the timer die while staring at an incomplete problem.

TIME REMAINING: 00:03

His fingers moved faster. Guesses at this point, honestly. Better than nothing.

TIME REMAINING: 00:00

SUBMISSION FORCED

The screen went dark.

Then:

COGNITIVE ANALYSIS RESULTS COMPILED

Riku sat there breathing heavily for a second, staring at the blank display.

"…Did I just fail a secret government test?"

Around the chamber, results were already appearing on holographic screens above each station.

Riku's activated slowly.

TOTAL SCORE: 58%PATTERN RECOGNITION: 62%TACTICAL PROBABILITY: 51%SPATIAL REASONING: 55%TIME MANAGEMENT: 42%

"…Wow. Exactly as mediocre as expected."

He wasn't failing. But he wasn't succeeding either. Just… existing in that perfect middle ground where you're not impressive enough to be noticed, but not bad enough to be a problem.

Which was exactly his brand.

The screens around him showed other results flickering to life.

Ice-Cold's appeared first:

TOTAL SCORE: 98%PATTERN RECOGNITION: 100%TACTICAL PROBABILITY: 97%SPATIAL REASONING: 100%TIME MANAGEMENT: 96%

Riku stared at it.

"…Yep. He's definitely a robot."

Emo girl's appeared next:

TOTAL SCORE: 94%PATTERN RECOGNITION: 89%TACTICAL PROBABILITY: 100%SPATIAL REASONING: 96%TIME MANAGEMENT: 91%

The red-haired girl's showed up alongside it:

TOTAL SCORE: 81%PATTERN RECOGNITION: 76%TACTICAL PROBABILITY: 88%SPATIAL REASONING: 79%TIME MANAGEMENT: 67%

She growled at her screen.

"…Ugh."

The beautiful girl's results glowed softly:

TOTAL SCORE: 92%PATTERN RECOGNITION: 95%TACTICAL PROBABILITY: 93%SPATIAL REASONING: 89%TIME MANAGEMENT: 88%

Riku felt briefly inadequate just looking at it.

Then the sleeping girl's results appeared.

And the entire chamber went quiet.

TOTAL SCORE: 88%PATTERN RECOGNITION: 91%TACTICAL PROBABILITY: 85%SPATIAL REASONING: 92%TIME MANAGEMENT: 79%

It wasn't the highest score.

But she'd completed the entire test while asleep.

Not rested. Not conscious. Actually sleeping with her head on the desk.

And still scored in the 88th percentile.

Three evaluators immediately turned toward her station simultaneously.

Perfectly synchronized. Perfectly silent.

The girl blinked slowly once, yawned, and went back to looking unconscious.

The evaluators didn't move.

"…Okay that's definitely not normal," Riku muttered.

An announcement echoed across the chamber.

"Cognitive Analysis complete. Proceed to Tactical Simulation."

The evaluators finally looked away from the sleeping girl and gestured toward reinforced sliding doors opening at the far end of the chamber.

Riku stood up slowly, still staring at the results floating above the stations.

Ice-Cold was perfect at thinking.

Emo girl was perfect at tactics.

The sleeping girl was perfect at existing impossibly.

And Riku was... adequate.

Not great.

Not terrible.

Just enough.

He followed the other recruits toward the next sector, already feeling the weight of two hours of consecutive testing pressing down on his shoulders.

---
END OF CHAPTER 14
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