The Selection

Racing with the time, I scrambled inside the gateway of the academy along with the other last batch intelligentsia to have ID- checked before proceeding into the hall. The girls and boys in red marched toward the one-floor building in ordered lines like troops of soldiers.

The head of the academy and academics welcomed us inside the room. Their faces tightened with no smile on their lips. None of the academics showed their enthusiasm or warming gaze at us even when the first day I set my feet in this Academy during the assembly. Their classes ran ordinarily; they just rigidly delivered instruction. In other words, it was as if they acted like robots, doing anything under control. I wondered if others felt the same way as I did.

"Good morning." A greeting echoed as the room was a soundproof area. The head of the academy, whom we never referred to by his name, stood with one hand clasping the microphone and the other falling beside his sturdy torso. His eagle eyes sharply shot straigh
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