Chapter 1: The Test

Zeke stood at the edge of the circle, heart thumping, breath tight in his chest. The sun was high, casting sharp lines over the schoolyard. Around him, the others waited, eyes wide, shifting on their feet. The Fifteen Test always did this—brought out that gnawing silence, that weight in the air.

He glanced at the white building where the Councilwomen sat inside, waiting. Today, the future was being decided. Not just for him, for all the boys his age. 

The gate to the testing center slid open with a low hiss. Two officials stepped out, their movements brisk, purposeful. No words, just a nod. Zeke felt the others tense around him, like animals sensing a predator. They had all been preparing for this day since they were small, but preparation didn’t make it easier. 

“Zeke?” The official’s voice cut through the quiet. He met her gaze and nodded, though his feet felt heavy as stone. His name was called first. Of course. Elias, a precocious, sullen boy sat next to him and elbowed him in his side. He chuckled, “See you in Australia”, he said with a smirk. Then he took his hand and extended his pointer finger to make a slashing motion across his neck as Zeke stood.

The others watched as he stepped forward, leaving the warmth of their shared anxiety behind. The path to the door felt longer than it should. Each step echoed inside his head, loud, even though the ground was soft beneath his feet.

He passed through the open gate, into the cool air of the testing hall. A quiet room, sterile and bright, with glass walls and smooth floors. The Test wasn’t much to look at—just a chair and a console, wires leading to monitors that tracked everything. Thoughts, emotions, impulses. Every hidden piece of you laid bare.

Zeke took a deep breath, sat, and waited for the console to come alive. His heart thudded in his chest as the machine beeped, lights flickering to life.

“Relax,” the official standing beside him said, her tone neutral, unreadable. “Let the Test guide you.”

He nodded, more out of habit than understanding. Relaxing wasn’t possible here. Not when he knew what this meant. Fail, and you were gone. Sent away to The Prøgram in Australia, a place everyone knew about but no one spoke of. Pass, and you stayed. You became part of the world that worked, where boys were managed and kept in check.

He placed his hands on his knees, trying to still the jittery feeling in his stomach. The machine beeped, and his eyes snapped to the screen.

The screen in front of him blinked, flashing a series of images. Zeke’s mind ran through the training he’d been given. He needed to think clearly. But the machine didn’t care about what he knew. It cared about what he felt.

What do you feel when you see a flame?

Zeke’s pulse quickened. Fire was a symbol, he knew that. Destruction. Heat. Passion. He hovered over the answer choices, his finger trembling just slightly. He selected warmth and forced himself to breathe.

The screen shifted to the next question, this time showing a man and a woman arguing. How do you feel? His mind flashed back to old footage he had seen of the world before—the violence, the chaos. His finger hovered, unsure. He pressed frustration.

The Test moved faster now. Scenes blurred together: laughter, anger, violence, love. His thoughts ran ahead of him, trying to answer, trying to be right. He pressed choices by instinct, hoping they aligned with what the Council wanted.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours. Zeke couldn’t tell. His body felt stiff, nerves tight, as the final question appeared. This one was different. No images, no scenarios. Just text: What would you do to protect peace?

Zeke stared at the words. The Test waited, silent, unblinking. His fingers hovered over the screen, his breath shallow. He knew what they wanted him to say—peace was everything. But the question was heavier than it looked. What would he really do? What had others done before him? And why did it feel like something was pulling at him, asking him to think beyond what he’d been taught?

His mind churned as he pressed everything.

The console beeped, lights flickering off. Zeke felt the tension release from his shoulders, though his stomach still twisted in knots.

“It’s done,” the official said, stepping forward to unhook the wires. Her face remained blank, giving him nothing.

Zeke stood, legs shaky, and followed her out. He blinked as the sunlight hit his face again, the others’ faces coming into view. Some of them looked pale, their eyes darting nervously. 

Ella, one of his female platonic companions, met his gaze from the circle, her brow furrowed in question. He nodded once, offering a faint smile. She smiled back, though her shoulders remained tense. Beside her, Lina offered a brisk nod, but her fingers drummed nervously against her leg. Their very presence in his life was designed so that he would grow up to respect and love women, as well as nurture his own femininity. The three of them had been thrust together since they were toddlers — there was no hiding anything. 

The boys would get their results tomorrow. For now, they were stuck in a strange limbo, balancing on the edge of two possible futures. But before that, they had to face stage two of The Test—a stage that promised to be even more difficult.

Zeke’s fingers twitched, remembering the last question. What would you do to protect peace? The words kept playing over in his mind, an echo that wouldn’t settle. Zeke didn’t know. Not really. And maybe that was what scared him the most.