Drawstone

The timer counted down the last few seconds. The buzzer rang, and the announcer walked back on stage. Most teams appeared to finish ahead of time, like Hunter, and they considered each other their rivals designs. Most designs looked alike, although some appeared more box-like than Hunter's, a horizontal pyramid modified to include a small platform at its apex for the user's drawstone.

He didn't see any open-air designs like he had in the previous round. He saw that all the designs appeared clean and professional — although he knew that appearances could be deceiving regarding construction quality. Hunter had considered making a cube, but figured that something a bit more like a pyramid would be more visually interesting, and it saved him from having to use all the material. He figured it would go some way to improve the score the judges gave him, and it also satisfied his sense of professionalism. For the last few years, he's had to learn how to do with more with less.

It was always challenging, but the challenge was paying off.

There wasn't much that Hunter could do in terms of aesthetics. Some teams had created some unique designs. Rounded edges and twisting corners were features that surprised Hunter; he didn't know they were possible with the materials. Their artistic skill impressed him, and if their etherium skills matched it, they'd score high.

The announcer's voice cut through the noise of the murmuring spectators and chattering teams.

"The first phase of the second round is now over! As expected, this round tested how you would approach an old problem. Experts and amateurs are distinguished by their utilization of the Force glyph, even though it's well known. The judges can't wait to see your submissions, so without further ado, let's begin the second phase of the round! If you look at the top right-hand side of your work-benches, you'll see a number taped to the corner. When that number is called, it will be your turn to present your submission for appraisal. Are you excited? I am! Let's get started! Would team #1 approach the assessment device?"

Hunter checked the corner of his desk. He'd noticed the number before, but had thought little of it. He would be the 14th in line for assessment.

The crowd clapped as the team brought their construct around the stage. They set it up on a small pedestal that stood a few feet away from the scale.

The team was told to step away from the device, as the announcer would activate it herself. On one side of the machine, the team watched. On the other side of the machine, the seven judges assembled — at least Hunter assumed they were the judges.

The announcer held a drawstone up to the device. From where he stood, he couldn't discern the device's construction details.

"Force output: 89 pounds," the announcer said, after the device had been active for a few seconds. The judges approached and asked someone from the team to open the construct for them to see the inside. One of them took out a tool and poked at the device.

"AR requirement: 32," the announcer said. Hunter's eyebrows rose. He's seen devices to test the AR requirement of constructs. He had a couple in various states of disrepair at his old house in Seckina. But he had seen nothing like the device they were using, which could be held in one hand. It must be a newer model.

Over the next few minutes, the judges took turns inspecting the device. The team came forward and answered questions the judges had.

"5 Stars!" The announcer declared. The crowd clapped, "for a total score of 13.9"

Hunter noticed a display above the stadium that he hadn't seen before. The screen printed a few letters and numbers, recording the teams' score at the top.

TM 1: 13.9

The other teams didn't seem impressed.

He imagined that many teams could have output a lot more with a lower AR requirement. It wouldn't be too hard to beat.

Indeed, the second team seemed to do much better.

"Force Output: 95 pounds."

"AR Requirement: 30."

"5 Stars! Total score: 15.8!"

TM 2: 15.8

TM 1: 13.9

6 more teams went up, one scoring as low as 10, with another scoring as high as 20. Jeremy's team had scored a respectable 18. The central walkway's proximity to Hunter's table allowed him to see the nervous faces of all the teams as they approached the stage before moving around it. Nicole gave him a thumbs up, Jeremy gave him a friendly smile and a wave. He caught a look from Rodney that he hadn't known how to parse— a mixture of bafflement and curiosity. Maybe neither of those. Stephan just nodded at him.

Team 9 was one that Hunter recognized. David Nettle and his goons strutted their way towards the machine. David looked at Hunter with nothing short of his usual disdain — despite how he'd performed in the last round. The rest of his team seemed to ignore Hunter.

The construct wasn't the most artful that Hunter had seen so far, but he was loath to admit that it didn't look bad. He prayed to whichever god listened that they got the lowest score in the round.

They were far too confident.

To Hunter's dismay, their score was impressive.

"Force Output: 110 pounds! Wow," the announcer said. David gave a small bow, and his team laughed at his theatrics. The judges crowded their construct, and David opened it up for them.

"AR requirement: 28!" A few appreciative sounds from the surrounding teams met the announcement.

"Judges score… 6 Stars! For a total score of 23.5!"

The crowd gave a loud round of applause for that. There were some scattered cheers as well. Apparently, David and his team had fans.

If nothing else, the young man was charismatic. Hunter would give him that.

On their way back to their workbench, David barely glanced at Hunter with anything more than a smirk.

TM 9: 23.5

TM 5: 20

TM 3: 18.8

TM 7: 18

TM 8: 17.7

TM 4: 16.6

TM 2: 15.8

TM 1: 13.9

TM 6: 10

The next team was another that Hunter recognized. The other team that shared his 7 Star result from the previous round. There's was one of the more beautiful pieces that Hunter had seen, and their confidence wasn't quite like David's team had been. Where David's team had been about projecting something, this team just didn't seem worried. They strolled along, their movements relaxed and unconcerned.

They weren't arrogant; just convinced that they had nothing to worry about. Hunter's interest piqued—hopefully, their results would act as something of a palate cleanser. David Nettle's attitude had left Hunter feeling sour.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, the judges announced their results.

"Force Output: 120 pounds!"

Hunter whistled to himself. Impressive.

"AR Requirement: 30."

"Judges score: 7 Stars! For 28 points!"

The applause from the crowd was louder than any that he'd heard so far, with many more cheers than David's team had enjoyed. Hunter clapped as well. The highest score yet — one that might be hard to beat.

Hunter thought that he would beat them, but he didn't know.

The next 3 teams didn't score nearly as well, the highest beating out Jeremy's team with 19 points.

Then, it was Hunter's turn.

The construct was too heavy for him to lift on his own, so he waved over an assistant to help him. Although: The applause was greater than anticipated, it paled in comparison to that given David and Jonathan Berrymoore's team.

The closer he got to the device, the more nervous he became. The nerves felt completely irrational. He had felt fine a moment ago. He considered his experience with crowds and concluded that he was getting something like stage fright.

He gulped. His palms were sweating. He wiped them on his pants, then realized that everyone had seen him do that. They would all know that he was nervous. He stuck out like a sore thumb, all sweat and anxiety.

He did his best to focus on the moment. It was all he could do. He had nothing to worry about, right? He was good at this stuff.

Three was nothing to worry about.

Don't worry about the crowd, he thought, don't worry about the teams, or the announcer, or the judges, focus on the fact that you've made it this far, and that the construct works.

He followed the attendant to the device. The attendant placed the device on the pedestal, and Hunter hooked it into place. Having secured the device, he waved the announcer over and stepped back.

Hunter couldn't see the small screen on the scale from where he stood. He held his breath as the announcer raised the microphone to her lips.

"Force Output: 142 pounds!"

Hunter sighed in relief.

If he was honest, it was weaker than he had hoped, but it was still the highest output by a longshot. But they weren't done.

The judges approached the construct, and Hunter came to them when they beckoned. He opened up the constructs casing from the top — the only part of the construct that didn't have any channels running through it.

"There it is again, Janet. That crisscrossing pattern. Genius work, by the way," one judge said to Hunter. The man's eyes were bright and enthusiastic. The rest of the judges were looking at Hunter with interest.

"Thank you. That means a lot coming from such an accomplished individual like yourself," Hunter said, surprised by the flattery that had just left his lips. He did not know who this guy was, but it felt like the right thing to say. The man snorted, and another judge placed the AR probe inside of his construct.

He took the chance to study the instrument, but he couldn't infer much about how it worked before it beeped. The judge looked at the display with raised eyebrows, showing it to the other judges. They all seemed impressed, nodding at Hunter encouragingly.

That must be good news.

They showed the small display to the announcer.

"AR Requirement: 23!"

Hunter smiled. He could have sworn he heard a few gasps from the other teams. Maybe he was imagining it.

The judges asked him questions about the design, and Hunter did his best to answer what he could. Some questions came close to being uncomfortable. He told them partial truths; he'd been experimenting with nonstandard network syntax since as long as he could remember, it always seemed like a fun puzzle to him. He further explained that the crosshatch channels were a serendipitous discovery, which he'd subtly improved through years of experimentation.

Not entirely a lie, but not entirely truthful, either. It seemed to satisfy the judge's curiosity. He did his best to explain the function of the altered glyphs — telling them to be careful with how they handled their study of the construct. The judges took some time to confer amongst themselves. By this point, Hunter wasn't feeling nervous. He could see the results on the judges' faces. They'd all been excited to see observe his work.

A couple of them admitted they didn't want to believe that it could work as well as it did — but they couldn't argue with the results. They kept the construct active for a full minute while they talked in order to test the construct's reliability.

They spoke to the announcer when they were ready.

"Judges score: 7 Stars! For a final score of 43.2!"

This got the reaction from the crowd that Hunter had been secretly hoping for. An attendant came to carry off his submission. As he walked back to his workbench, he let the elation from the crowd pass through him. He was really enjoying this.

He checked the leaderboard after he calmed down.

TM 14: 43.2

TM 10: 28

TM 9: 23.5

TM 5: 20

TM 12: 19

TM 3: 18.8

TM 7: 18

TM 8: 17.7

TM 13: 17

TM 4: 16.6

TM 2: 15.8

TM 11: 14

TM 1: 13.9

TM 6: 10

He took a page out of David's book — in fact; he looked directly at David and his team, right near the back of the workspace where everyone was watching from, and bowed.

David's face went beet red, but there was no scorn in his expression.

Maybe some resentment. Maybe even hate.

But the arrogance was gone.

He saw Nicole staring at him, slack jawed. Other teams were discussing him as well — not a single look of dismissal or arrogance to be seen.

Hunter felt giddy. All the exhaustion felt like it left him. He felt like he could dance. He didn't, but he laughed a bit. He couldn't help it.

He'd been dreaming of a moment like this for years. Ever since he was young, ever since that last day of school when everyone he'd thought he was close to treated him like he was some sort of freak.

His eyes were watering. The tears made it too blurry to see the team that had been called up after him.

He'd done it again. He'd proven what he was capable of — not just to himself, but the rest of the world.

Why had he ever doubted himself?

Just under 50 minutes later, officials announced all the teams' results. No one had come close to beating Hunters' score.

Round two was his.

Is that enough for you, Oberon? Hunter thought, Is that enough to secure my future, or do you need to see more?

Hunter knew that as soon as he calmed down, the exhaustion would feel more intense.

But he had one more round to get through.

It wouldn't be easy — but he had risen to every challenge that faced him so far. What was one more?