The room split before us, branching into different paths.
Elliot and I stood side by side, watching as names and categories flashed across overhead monitors. Soon enough, we found our own.
ASTRONAUT TRAINEES → LEFT WING
ASTRONAUT CANDIDATES → RIGHT WING
Elliot exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess this is where we part ways."
I nodded. "For now."
He turned toward me, grinning. "I'm pretty sure I'll be fine, but don't you dare fail before I get there."
I chuckled softly. "I don't intend to."
With a final nod, we parted.
I wasn't concerned about him.
If anything, Elliot was overqualified for an astronaut trainee position. I knew it. He probably knew it, too. His skills, his intelligence—it was clear he had what it took.
I, on the other hand, had a very different challenge ahead.
Stepping into the right-wing, I moved through the pristine hallways until I reached another processing desk. A woman, crisp in her professionalism, extended her hand.
"ID."
