as the names were called out; “Gonde, Fria, Doom, Elver, Imman, Courus, Timane, and Anima.” No, that can’t be. I can’t be chosen. I stand up, my legs are shaking so damn bad, and I probably won’t make it out the door. Step by step, I make it, surprisingly, and I stand by the headmistress. The other kids come as well, all 15 year olds. I move over to give them some room as we are marched out the door. Bye home, I think bitterly as we get shoved into the train that will take us to the launch port.