Seeker

The Selection Hall is too large, too bright, too cold.

I stand among thousands of seventeen-year-olds, our iden-

tical slate-gray uniforms blending us into a single mass.

The floor beneath us is smooth black marble, polished so

flawlessly that I can see my own reflection if I look down. I

don't.

Above us, the domed ceiling glows with shifting images-the

Five Paths. Their golden symbols flicker like gods watching

from above. They are all that matters.

A voice crackles through the speakers, deep, emotionless,

absolute.

"The Paths to Success are your purpose. Your duty. Your

future."

It's Chancellor Dain. His voice is everywhere in this place.

It drips from the walls, slithers into our ears, settles in our

bones.