The cut off for the test was 80%. Anyone whom received a grade lower than that was not eligible to attend the awakening. While sitting in the lobby with his fellow peerage who had passed the test, those from his school and the next high school over, Sullivan watched videos on his phone of caged monsters being brough back from a dimensional rift for research by the government. Herb, who was sitting next to Sullivan and evidently in a restive mood, broke his pensive silence to share his thoughts with Sullivan.

  "Isn't it kind of a waste to only allow those who score an 80% and higher on the test? I mean, imagine all the wasted talent that goes by in life without knowing they would be some big shot awakener if only they sat down to study for some lousy test."

  Looking up from his phone for a moment, Sullivan's eyes bounced back to the screen, and he answered. "Yeah, but the rules and protocol are pretty important. On the other side there's no government or any of the laws we are bound by like here else than those you bring with you and enforce. Having a good education of the rules, theoretically, prevents all kinds of internecine squabbles that might occur on the other side, which could if left unmitigated prove fatal for the whole team. I fully support the 80% standard, although I wouldn't protest against it being raised to 90% either."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "Jeez, you can just say that because you got 100%!" Herb bitterly retorted, causing everyone's heads to swivel over in Sullivan's direction.

  Whispered "He got an 100%?"'s spread throughout the room and Sullivan realized he did not like the attention. But luckily, a girl emerged from the aptitude testing room in tears, shifting everyone's attention to her. Now everyone was speculating on the weeping girl's aptitude, Herb withal.

  "Gee, I bet she received something in the range of... F." Herb savagely finished with marked mocking delight.

  "You can deprecate her now, but just remember life loves irony." Sullivan reminded his friend.

  Herb blanched at this remark, evincing his superstitious side.

  "Guthrie, Sullivan!" A nurse with a clipboard yelled from the door that the crying girl had just came from.

  "Welp, that me. Wish me luck, or don't. I don't believe in it anyway." Said Sullivan with a cocksure smile.

  "Goodluck!" Sullivan heard Herb say as he passed through the door.