[img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/502891015976517653/504959855229009932/GoroDogorasu.png[/img]
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To Goro's dismay, his words of assurance and geniality appeared to bounce right off everyone around him. He couldn't really blame them of course, given both the distractions of constant anticipation and opposing viewpoints, but it stung nonetheless. Could it be that his encouragement came out as cheesy, disingenuous, or maybe even pathetic?

Did they hate him already?

The thought weighed on the glowing boy heavier than the imminent exam. Problems he could solve, pain and exhaustion he could take, and dummies he could find, but he could not win the hearts of other people. Still, he managed to shoulder the anxiety and put it aside. Now was no time for feeling like a loser—not when he had a test to win. Goro looked between those assembled, sparing a glance at the bus toward the end of the scan. A couple teams stood more or less ready to roll, some of their members sharing names and quirks. The last few students, being the solid-looking horned guy and the stick-thin tube girl, had appeared. Lost out on most of the conversation and side-taking, they began their own preparations. Following suit, Goro began to blink his light, heightening and lowering the power in quick succession to limber it up for use. After all, the test could begin at any moment.

It did in fact begin the next moment, though while Goro had imagined he might burst forward like a track runner at the starting line, he found himself quite unable to move.

A chill sharper and deeper than whatever the morning air could offer pierced him, surging through each bone and vein. In an instant Goro's heart leaped into his throat, its panicked beat distorting his breathing into labored gasps. His eyes raced across the scenery, trying in vain to find the source of the hideous, nightmarish noises of suffering. When he looked down a moment later, he saw his hands shaking, but he could stare at them for only two seconds before a buffet of air bowled him over. 

Indignant anger rushed through him as he leaped to his feet a second later, hurt more emotionally than physically, but the turbine-bearing braggart had vanished into the mist before a word could leave his lips. Some of the others seemed just as eager, like miss Bicolor, who he watched barrel off into the unknown a moment later. The gas-masked girl got started next, but Goro found himself looking at his hands instead. They were not shaking anymore. The sudden tumble, he realized, affected him like a slap to the face or a whiff of smelling salts and shifted him into gear; while outside things looked as foggy as ever, on the inside things were clearing up. 

Those voices, he rationalized, were not real. Either a villain made them, or they came from the dummies themselves, piteous beacons to help the students home in on their targets. He needed to find them, and soon, before anyone else could. Given the strong start of Blowhard, Bicolor, and Red, he felt he'd have better chances elsewhere. The opposite diagonal direction seemed good.

With a deep breath, Goro stepped up. He willed the light streaming from his face to strengthen, and its glow split the fog in a wide cone. The next second, though, the world went white, prompting him to blink in confusion. “Whoa!” After a brief moment of being dazzled, he figured out that he'd blinded himself with his own light thanks to the sheer thickness from the mist, even though he'd gone nowhere near full power. On impulse he increased his focus and tightened his hoodie's drawstrings to narrow the beam, and with visibility restored he could see that his spotlight extended a little more than ten feet. A nod of satisfaction made the spotlight bob up and down, revealing lengths of rebar and chunks of jagged concrete that might have tripped up anyone who went that way.

“Looks like it's go time, then.” Raising his voice over the unnerving din, he called out, “If any of you want to come along, please feel free.” While he did feel that teamwork might be against the rules, and that either way it would lead to problems dividing points, he did not mind lending anyone a helping hand with his light. Whether or not anyone chose to follow him, he took off at a sprint, face at a downward angle to keep an eye on the terrain and avoid tripping over rubble. Though neither super strong nor super fast, his warm light offered an advantage nobody else did: the power to cut through the fog and spot dummies and villains alike. With this in mind he kept an eye out for any large, relatively intact structures. Any dark indoor areas would be free pickings, he thought, for someone who could pierce the shadows like him. As the ground became more difficult he slowed to a brisk job, angling left as he continued forward.

(Goro is making an arc through Zone 3 to Zone 6)