“Are you alright, Herculean?” Warden Salvatore asked.
“Um”—Sam was glancing over his shoulder with his brow creasing more and more with each second his gaze took in the sight behind him—“are hero assessments always this crowded?”
He was halfway up the steps leading to the front doors of the Wardens Abbey located at the heart of New York’s 5th Avenue when he noticed the large crowd of spectators gathered on the street below.
“Not usually, no,” Warden Salvatore admitted. “To be fair, you aren’t what I’d call a normal examinee either.”
Sam sighed. “Yeah… I guess.”