BY THING 1

Just A Peek

 

“Eighty chronolyps remaining,” The computerized announcement chimed through harsh speakers embedded in the frigid room’s ceiling. If it wasn’t for the cluster of youth cowering over uniform desks, furiously marking in answers to their long-awaited exam, the room of the dreaded test would’ve been regarded as a chamber of isolation reserved for psychotic patients. 

Student 78-4U shivered, eyes locked on its screen. This was it; expectations—not quite dreams, necessarily—of entering the Sorpiplix Expedition and Solar Warfare Academy would soon be limply abolished. The last hour of perusing the exam questions proved to 78-4U all previous studying was in vain.

78-4U’s eyes wandered to its fellow student’s desk perched dangerously close to its own. Despite the prestigious nature of the Academy, the exam coordinators didn’t organize a terribly efficient test-taking setting, in addition to their apparent lack of care regarding the room’s temperature. It was too easy to steal answers from a neighboring student. 

78-4U marauded answers around its neighbor’s tentacle slapping the screen to submit answers that 78-4U would mirror as its own. Just as 78-4U’s confidence was beginning to warm up, the automated voice declared, “Examination defrauding is not acceptable. Student 78-4U, your portal is now a mere accessory. You may keep them as a token of reminder.”

The classroom’s icy bite dissolved, and Student 78-4U’s vision turned to black. Removing its goggles, 78-4U’s bare eyes revealed its own familiar dormitory. Trying to drown its disappointment, 78-4U smiled to itself. All things considered, at least it was now warm.