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Chapter 14: A Chance Encounter.
🕑 Added 2024-04-26 00:58:24 +0000 UTCChapter 14: A Chance Encounter.
Hunting for the rest of the day yielded no more levels. Not that I expected any.
[Meditation] allowed me to sense Psy far more clearly than before and regenerate it faster than ever, even while in motion.
My hunting speed skyrocketed without the constant need for breaks or the constant drag of fatigue. Yet, with those improved feelings came a greater understanding of the levelling process.
I had grown too strong, too fast.
Nothing in my near vicinity came even close to posing a threat. Not that I let my guard down of course.
The old adage still rings true.
Pride cometh before the fall; which is a fancy way to say people who think they’re untouchable tend to get their teeth kicked in sooner rather than later. Case in point, that loon with the gun could have killed me very easily if he’d wanted to, in spite of all those shiny levels under my belt.
No, the problem was one of challenge, in that, I was not being forced to go beyond my current limits in any of the fights.
For example, all my training with [Mental Bolt] had focused on how I could supercharge a strike or trying to bypass the cooldown. What I hadn’t realized until acquiring this new perspective was that I had also slowly adjusted the delivery of each bolt as I fought over the course of days.
In the beginning, I was pooling energy together and sending it off, without any care or forethought other than picking the target. By the second day, I’d been subconsciously leading the bolt towards my target even after firing. Now, I was able to fully move it around mid-flight, making it spiral and sharpen its edge to better penetrate the stronger monster’s innate resistances.
As for those resistances, they all had a lesser awareness that they used to dampen blows. That was why stronger monsters with more Psy had endured more than one bolt or survived my [Fever].
Now, my own abilities were so strong they could overwhelm the centipedes, the eels, the rabbits, the moles and the beetles with little issue.
Besides all those reasons, there was something else that I couldn’t properly describe. A nagging sensation at the back of my head that a vital piece of the puzzle was eluding me. It’d started when I fully opened up to Buddy and more or less accepted what I was. Since then, I’d become restless, not sure whether to release or supress this new, familiar echo.
Not that it truly mattered, I guess. It wouldn’t change the fact that I’d hit a ceiling.
Which meant the only way I’d advance was through experimentation.
To that end, I was trying something a little different.
“Hello there scamp. Can I call you scamp?”
The mandibles clacked in a different way than before, faster and more upbeat.
‘Yes yes. This blood bag can call me scamp. Yes.’
Both my fog and the link I’d created with [Message] buzzed with conflicting emotions. The centipede in front of me was hungry and perfectly aware that I had just killed its comrades.
Yet, it saw me as an ally.
Well, maybe that was too strong a word.
It saw me as a thing that gave it happy feelings. Yeah, that was more apt.
[Friendship] wasn’t as benevolent as it sounded.
What it did was activate the ‘feel good’ part of the brain while a conversation was in place.
Like a sinister roofie that deluded one to perceive the attacking party more favourably. Moreover, the target wouldn’t know I was the source unless I pointed it out.
With that established, I was trying to see how much I could get away with while the ability was still in effect.
“So, buddy. Can you jump for me?”
‘I don’t want to jump.’
“Really? I think you’ll feel a lot better if you jump.”
I injected a snippet of Psy into the conversation, giving it a taste of pleasure.
As I did so, a stream of bile threatened to overflow from within my stomach. Memories of the tall man and the community center breaking free of their suppression to remind me of what I could become if I went down this path. My teeth clenched as I willed my focus back to the skittering horror before me.
This was not the time.
This was not the place.
What I was doing was different.
This wasn’t mind-control.
Only encouragement.
I’m not evil.
Definitely not.
Its mind hummed in response, then tried to claw itself back to its original position.
‘I want to feel good, but I don’t want to jump.’
“That’s fine, but I won’t give you the happy feelings unless you jump.”
It went back into itself, wrangling the possibilities in its tiny brain.
After a few seconds, it came up with the smartest answer it could conjure.
‘No. I want to feel good without jumping.’
“Welp.” I said, standing back a bit. “That really is a shame. I was hoping for more out of this.”
‘Why are you leaving?’
“I’m not leaving, I just don’t want ichor on my new suit.” As the words left my mouth, I struck a dramatic pose and said the fated incantation.
“You are already dead!”
‘What?’ It asked, with visible confusion.
“Wrong choice of words.” I snickered as the chitin covered skull exploded with a satisfying squelch.
The silence that followed was deafening.
“Yeah. That was bad and I should feel bad.”
Childish play acting aside, the string of failures was a bummer.
Even after all that experimenting, the prospect of having an army of goons standing between me and danger wasn’t looking too bright.
Maybe it was the low baseline for intelligence.
Maybe it was the fact I’d just killed its brood.
Probably a mix of both in all honesty.
Though perhaps it was for the best.
I’d had these eerie feelings all throughout the experiments.
A strange sense of Deja-vu, followed by a tightness in my chest and throat.
Within me, the deep dark lake stirred.
Dancing strings of power flailing like reeds within a storm. From beneath the water, slithering wisps tried to escape and breach the surface.
It might’ve been a physiological reaction to the dubious morality of taming monsters. It might’ve been something else entirely.
Regardless of the underlying reason, I was left with no recourse but to continue slaughtering my way through this dank cave all by my lonesome.
Okay, maybe not by my lonesome.
“How are you doing Buddy?”
‘I’m great!’ Said the parasite clinging to me.
Big round eyes had formed on my chest, a little above my pectoral muscles. Their owner stared up at me, lovingly stretching to devour the last of the monsters in order to sustain us both.
I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t unsettling, but I’d gotten used to it by now. Funny how much humans are able to cope with in order to avoid starvation.
Though, I would have kept him even without that function.
Before, I was a lowly peon trudging along in the rags that used to be my pajamas. Now, I was happily spelunking in what looked like a crimson astronaut suit, complete with a thick transparent helmet, built-in air conditioning and most importantly, boots.
Not just shoes, but thick, sturdy boots. Lovely coverings that kept my feet all nice and cozy and free from the sting of pebbles every dammed step I took in this forsaken pit of despair.
Dear merciful buddha how I missed having boots.
Taking a deep, appreciative breath, I swore to myself that I would never again deign to go barefoot.
‘Hehe. You sure do think of silly things Sully. Of course, you won’t have to worry about that. You have me and I’ll never abandon you. Never ever! Because you are my best friend!’
“Glad to hear it buddy. You about done?”
‘Oh yeah. Nutrients coming through!’
I didn’t feel any different, but the feeling of satiation hadn’t left me, so I took it in stride.
Moving on, we continued to set up ambushes and organize instances of inter-monster violence. All while practising different ways of mixing the [Fear] and the [Fever]. It wasn’t something to be taken lightly as I felt myself getting traumatic flashbacks from the emotions my victims gave off, but the struggle was its own reward.
The presence of [Meditation] could also be felt throughout.
Before, I’d been plagued by incessant bouts of indecision. Questioning every other thing I did with an endless tirade of what ifs?
Stopping by every single corner and using [Precognition] to scout out the surrounding tunnels three times over before finally deciding it was free of traps.
Now, I could feel comfortable enough in my own skills to restrain myself to one use per intersections. Relying instead on other cues.
Like the presence of uneaten monster corpses for example.
If something down here wasn’t devoured or crushed, chances were good that a trap had gotten to them. Mutated plants and animals would have slurped them up otherwise, whereas robots would have mashed them into a bloody pulp.
Furthermore, I found that I was able to sleep better thanks to [Meditation] as well.
The dreams weren’t gone, per se. But they were more subdued. More bearable.
That change alone was worth all the points that it had sucked up.
I felt more, confident. More self assured.
To the point where I started to look forward to exploring new areas.
I was still wrestling with the idea that going up was fruitless, given how so many people from different dimensions had wound up down here with me. Yet, with [Mediation], I found that I could cope.
Breathing in and out became more rhythmical. More of a controlled trance. I could push away my fears and my doubts and focus on what I could do, instead of worrying about what I couldn’t change.
‘This maze is probably just a basement that someone powerful dug up. It may not be my world, but there has to be a border somewhere. Some way to the surface. Creating a whole subdimension just for this would be a waste of time for anyone powerful enough to actually do it.’
‘What’s a subdimension Sully?’
‘I…I don’t know how to explain it. I know physics, but I’m not a physicist. Think of it like a bubble in empty space or a place that has no defined beginning or end. So that it loops around itself.’
‘Neat! What are you going to do if the Labyrinth is a subdimension?’
I shuddered. Willing [Meditation] to overtake me and to drive away my doubts.
‘I guess we’ll see when we get to that point.’
A queer feeling of coldness began to set in after another day of hunting and setting ambushes. It wasn’t exactly noticeable at first, merely a few momentary chills over the course of the day.
My attention was still focused on self-improvement or rather, the lack thereof. I was pulling off bigger ambushes by the hour, yet could find no good way to make a breakthrough. Psionic bolts and bombs went off and did their thing without resistance and my way became clear for another few hundred metres.
Over and over again.
The day after that revealed no more secrets either. Although I did notice a distinct lack of people the higher, I went.
There had been more deaths of course, but not so much as to explain the barren tunnels my map was capturing.
“Hey Buddy. Are you sure you don’t remember anything before the labyrinth?”
‘Nope! I already told you Sully. I was born here. I knew some things about myself since then and that was that. Oh! And I knew I wanted a friend like you!’
“So, you really don’t know what’s above us?”
‘Rocks! Duh!’
“No Buddy. I meant above those rocks.”
‘More rocks?’
“I mean. Yes. I think. That’s not…uhm.”
‘You sound frustrated Sully. Is it something I said?’
“No Buddy. You’re doing great. I really appreciate you and I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
Which was true, incidentally. My pace had dramatically increased since getting Buddy on board. One of the many little perks of not starving to death. Or being poisoned by fluorescent mushrooms.
Back then, I’d been desperate enough to consider the proposition, consequences be dammed. Inescapable hunger does that to otherwise rational minds. Bending perception until any old scrap looks as tantalizing as an all-you-can-eat buffet.
If pressed, I could even recall snippets of conversation between a few of my friends on the Biology Majors talking about how otherwise tame herbivores wouldn’t think twice about swallowing small critters if times got tough.
Sheep, horses, cows, deer, squirrels, giraffes, you name it and its probably eaten a few baby birds here and there to top off an otherwise green diet.
Thankfully, my ever-reliable Buddy could filter such trifles out before sending vitamins into me and all was well and good.
So long as I didn’t think too hard about how those proteins made their way into my bloodstream.
Alas, some topics are better left unexplored, though I had a sinking feeling that it bore striking resemblance to an IV drip.
Those snacks were becoming scarcer as I trudged along. For some reason, the monster population grew thinner the more I climbed. Previously, I’d be lucky to walk up a set of stairs without having to worry about a swarm descending on me from hidden crevices in the ceiling. Now, I could go half an hour before finding a cluster.
Less paranoid individuals might have rejoiced. Instead, I was bombarded by waves of stress, absolutely convinced that there was a catch.
[Meditation] pushed the feelings down and even banished the larger, irrational concerns.
But that still left me with the completely rational ones.
I turned a few corners and follow along some straight passages while keeping a lookout for more centipedes or eels or moles or whatever else decided to make an appetizer out of me.
With a grunt of effort, I sniped one of the moles when it came into range.
I then tried to find a detour that would allow me to reach it in order for Buddy to top off his reserves.
Goose prickles erupted all over my skin as I took note of a large antechamber.
Cobbled paths that crisscrossed each other around a dried-out fountain greeted me, barely illuminated by motes of green and red light floating in midair. At its center was a trio of metal statues depicting dancing children. Rust trailed down from their hollow eyes where running water might have flowed.
“Nice. This definitely doesn’t scream B-rated slasher film.”
Unlike the normal resting spots, there weren’t any doors on this one, and there seem to be multiple entrances.
Stone stairs were carved into the walls, leading to rocky balconies adorned with withered roots. Other than that, it was a similar deal as before. A steady stream raining down from the ceiling into the middle of the room, flowing down several stone grates.
Almost as if the rooms are slight variations of each other. Of the same rough template.
Looking at it from that perspective, I couldn’t help but wonder what the architect was on.
If the designer was even human.
Artificial intelligence could theoretically design a dungeon in this manner by re-arranging premade rooms. Meaning there was a chance some distant mastermind had a bunch of computers and an army of drones to dig out his pet project.
Various scenarios played out within my weary mind as I made my way over to the dead mole next to the fountain. In most cases, robot armies would be a ludicrous proposition. Regardless, it was no less maddening than the very notion of giving random people powers.
“Stop that, Sully. That road leads to many questions and few answers. Best to avoid making assumptions until you’re out. Also, stop talking to yourself. Its creepy. I’m not crazy.”
‘That’s right! You’re perfectly sane!’ Said the talking amoeba glued to my skin.
Many snarky replies tried to leave my mouth. All silenced by the rustle I heard behind me.
I bolted forward as my mind sharpened, turning around to face my foe.
“Whoa! Easy there! I’m human! Just like you!”
I stopped and looked at the newcomer. Very much aware that my fog failed to pick up anything.
My eyes scanned his form, moving up and down to get their measure.
It was indeed a human.
Tall and lean, with taught muscles, pale skin and an athletic frame.
Their face suggested early thirties and their expression spoke of hope and relief. Their blue eyes were firm, betraying an inner strength I sorely wished I had. Their hair was matted and filthy, unleashing a stench that would make a disgruntled skunk blush. Specifically, their beard reeked of half-digested mushrooms and what I really hoped wasn’t flying eel meat.
‘Hey Buddy. How am I smelling this dude through the astronaut form?’
‘I’m the one smelling him and passing along the info!’
‘Cool, can I ask you to stop for a little while?’
‘Sure. Thing Sully! Anything for you!’
Coming back to the issue at hand, I breathed a sweet sigh of relief. Pointedly ignoring my own odour.
The man wore an abused set of winter camping gear, torn in places where an errant jaw might have tried to find supple flesh. Puncture wounds indicative of many encounters with centipedes. Strangely, I didn’t find any bloodstains, human or otherwise.
His breath misted in the air with every heave of his lungs.
“Man! I’m I glad to see you. I thought I was all alone in this cave. Did you get bit? How did they get past your shield?”
“My shield?” I replied dumbly.
What was this guy talking about? He got a shield? Where was it? More importantly, why hadn’t I gotten one too?
Oh, that is just perfect. More than a week into my kidnapping and whoever ran this place was already picking favourites. As if the whole host of murders wasn’t enough to cement their villainy.
“I’m talking about the ability. Force Bubble. You know, the one that covers you up and takes the bites for you.”
Oh.
He’s a Projector.
Moreover, he thinks I’m a Projector.
Tell him I’m a Telepath?
Not quite yet. I had hoped to get the measure of people by mind-reading for bit before taking that step.
An added level of insurance, put in place after my last encounter. One which wasn’t available for whatever reason.
There was only one real solution. Misdirect harder than a politician on campaign.
“Nah man! This came from a dead mole. I got them before they reached me but got blood all over the suit. Now that I have powers, I’ll never let these guys touch me again!” I cringed as soon as the words were out. There was an itch in my skin.
A visceral reaction to a very poor performance. It was technically true, yet I wasn’t known for my credible poker face at the best of times. I was feeling more itching at the back of my neck.
A feeling that my new friend didn’t buy the steamy pile of fertilizer I was selling.
My hands felt clammy and cold. A knot was forming in my stomach.
All stemming from the simple fact that I had been bested in the one ability I’d grown to trust above all others. Marshalling my resolve, I narrowed my focus. Wrangling the fog as if it were an unruly beast and trying to find this person within its depths.
Nothing. Not even the hint of an outline like with the Bunny Man.
Was he even there? Could this be a hallucination?
“Hey man, Sully, was it? Are you ok? You’re starting to give me the creeps with the whole silent treatment. That and the astronaut suit make you look a bit off. Not that it’s a bad look mind you. I thought I was prepared for the apocalypse but you really took it one step further, sleeping in that thing.”
“Sorry.” I answered reflexively. Pointedly ignoring his comment about some apocalypse. “I…I got caught off guard is all. Been a while since I saw another person.”
“Boy, do I hear that. Those (Gnome)ing gnomes sure are doing a number on us.”
The man took another step in my direction. Worry painted on his face. As he did so, the coloured light ebbed and flowed away from his body in a circular motion. Pushed away by an unseen barrier.
Taking inspiration from this apparent talent, I forced my fog to rotate into a drill-like shape and tried to wrap tendrils of smoke around the stranger.
In less than a second, that careless slip had been rectified and I began to get signals from his mind too.
‘So, it wasn’t just me that got thrown down here.’ He thought with evident relief. ‘I was right. This is a government conspiracy to hide where powers come from. They’ve been keeping the truth from us for years! The bastards! They didn’t want people to know about aliens teleporting humans into their underground cave networks. The only question is why? Why keep this hidden? Why breed monsters here? Why work with the freaking gnomes? AHA! They wanted to keep people from being prepared! To keep the number of Espers low! To control the population! The secret cabal must have messed up this time and grabbed older people instead of teenagers. Ha! I was right to kill those government spooks! Just you wait! I’ll blow this thing wide open!’
Oh.
My.
Goodness.
That was…
That was a bit more information than I wanted.
Conspiracies aside, my new friend doesn’t know anything about the current situation.
Not anymore than me at least.
He also didn’t even stop to suspect me.
Either I did way better than I gave myself credit for. That, or this guy is completely oblivious.
Like a Shifter who doesn’t understand why everyone is so upset at him for eating passengers on the go-train.
“Anyway, I’m really glad to meet you. My name is Randall.” He said, reaching forward to shake my right hand.
Freed from my momentary horror, I grabbed onto that gesture with more gusto than he could ever know. The feelings of unease were still kicking, all my strings moving erratically behind my eyes. The golden string of [Precognition] was especially active. It vibrated with a frenzy that suggested singular purpose.
Now was not the time for contemplation however. So far, this encounter was going far better than I had dared hope for. In the sense that he hadn’t pulled a gun on me. The last thing I needed was my own ability mucking it up.
I opened my mouth and greeted him with enthusiasm.
‘Hi. I’m Solomon. Nice to meet you.’ Is what I meant to say.
“I am your death. Butcher.” Is what came out of my mouth.
“What?”
“Solomon! My name is Solomon! That’s what I said!”
‘HOOOOOOOOOLLLLYYYYYYYY COOOOOOOWWWW!!!!!!!!!’
‘WHAT! WHAT THE ACTUAL, WHAT!?’
‘DID PRECOGNITION TAKE OVER MY SPEECH!!!!’
‘IT CAN DO THAT!!!!’
‘AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!’
‘NO!’
‘NO PLEASE!’
‘NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOO!’
“Yeah, I must have misheard you. Sorry. I think I’m a bit shaken up by everything. Lack of sleep is something else. Almost ran out of Psy a couple of times you know?”
“Yes. I totally relate to that.” I said, clenching my jaw hard enough to crush diamonds.
That was, not okay.
Holy cow that wasn’t okay.
‘Oh, my goodness.’
‘What the actual…?’
‘That can happen?’
‘Really?’
‘In the middle of a conversation?’
‘Wait. I’ve been silent too long.’
‘Act normal.’
‘Act normal.’
‘Push the bad feelings down! Push Solomon!’
“All right. Let’s get out of here.”
“Right on man! Oh wait, I need to get a drink first. My throat is killing me right now.”
He moved past me and quickly began to pour water into his mouth. Afterwards, he began to scan the room in earnest, eventually noticing the fountain.
“Hey! That’s not a natural formation!” He said, stating the obvious.
“Yeah. It looks like someone put it there.”
“I knew it! This must be a secret government facility! Where they experiment on people who get powers! They catch us before we know what’s going on and teleport us away to their secret underground bunkers! All so they can give us to their alien wasp overlords and make us part of their space harems! That must be where the gnomes come from! They’re crossbreeds between people and aliens. Bred to take over our planet and become another slave colony in the Zircon empire!”
Whoa.
That was… honest.
I had expected Randall to keep his theories to himself at first.
It’s usually the kind of thing you post on forums under the cover of anonymity.
Yet here he was opening his heart out to me. Maybe he thought I was another theorist?
“I don’t know man.” I answered wearily. “Somehow, I don’t think the Canadian government has the budget for secret underground power testing facilities. I was leaning more towards paramilitary groups or psyched out billionaires.”
“Who said anything about the Canadians?” He responded with genuine confusion.
“It’s our government?”
He looked at me like I had just grown an elephant trunk.
“I’m from Nevada. In the Western Federation States.”
“Oh.”
“Oh indeed. If they’re taking people from different countries, this might be the global shadow government’s doing.”
“Of course.” I answered at once.
Some people might have taken this time to scoff or to call Randall all sorts of hurtful things.
Not me.
Randall could believe whatever he wanted, so long as he helped keep me safe.
In fact, he might even be right, considering every strange thing that had happened so far. Granted, the weight of evidence wasn’t on his side, but you never know. It could be true if enough powerful people got together and decided to flip the current status quo upside down.
Yeah, Randall wasn’t quite as crazy as he seemed.
Again, he still hadn’t tried to rob or kill me. Or admitted to robbing and killing other people. What’s a few conspiracies between friends?
At least he wasn’t having a mental breakdown caused by traumatic visions.
Or having his own abilities taking over his body.
Or talking to himself.
“I’m telling you. This is it. We got hard proof on our hands now. They won’t be able to hide the truth. Telepaths secretly control the world from their hidden island resorts around Australia. They make elected leaders into puppets and have them do whatever they want. All so they can mate with their insectoid waifs from the Andromeda galaxy. The gnomes are in on it too. That’s why they hunt us down. They must be some kind of servant race genetically created to look like humans. You know their pointy hats, right?”
His eyes gleamed with malice and bloodlust. His lips moving so fast the words became slurred.
“Well, they’re only pointy because their skulls are pointy! Like, we humans have rounded heads, but their heads are shaped like traffic cones! Personally, I have a theory that they’re actually cyborgs who keep telecommunications equipment inside their skulls. Like a pointy, circular antenna. It’s up to us to make it right. We have to find all the Telepaths here and kill them. Like I killed those people who mad fun of me back home! They all laughed! Laughed at me in their blogs and videos! They weren’t laughing when fist got powers, I’ll tell you that! They tried to label me a terrorist! Because I was showing people the truth! So, what if I burned down some animal shelters!? They were secret induction zones where they primed normal people against the rest of us! Now though….”
He looked down on his hands, before clenching them tightly.
“I can grow beyond S-rank. Beyond my former limits. I’ve already merged some abilities and I’m gonna keep merging more! I’ll be unstoppable!”
Oh.
Oh.
Oh no.
At that moment, I wanted to tell him he was wrong.
That this was all some kind of cruel joke and that they’d been given powers, seemingly at random.
“Of course.” I said instead.
There was absolutely no way I was going to tell Randall anything.
Especially since I had no idea what other abilities he had.
I might as well be telling a serial killer all the best places to cut me up. Doubly so with unknown powers in the mix.
For all I knew, the man could shatter every bone in my body with a thought.
Also, Australia? The whole continent had been underwater for a decade.
Ever since The Stomper got a bit too liberal with his power usage. It’s why the grading system is taken so seriously these days. Why Projectors have to wear bomb collars all over Asia as if they were Shifters.
Randall was clearly not right in the head.
He might be even crazier than me, and that was saying something at the moment.
Once more I was lying through my teeth.
Once more, Randall failed to notice.
He was enraptured in his own speech. Each sentence hyped him up even further and his body language became more and more excited.
For my part, I was sweating bullets.
Then, a thought struck me. An idea equal parts feasible and horrifying.
If we stuck together, Randall might sense that I’m different from him. No, he definitely would sooner or later. It wasn’t the sort of secret I could keep.
Worse, he might sense that while I was in a very vulnerable position.
But it didn’t have to be that way.
Randall was distracted right now.
I could see into his mind to confirm it.
He had lost all sense of spatial awareness.
So wrapped up in his own delusions of grandeur.
Inside his cranium, there was nothing but anticipation for his accolades.
A morbid fascination with the notion that he was right and everyone else had been wrong. That his friends had all been too skeptical, too wrapped up in the lies the governments spewed. Not like him. Not like someone with his smarts and his gumption. He wasn’t blinded by the propaganda. By the lies that came on network tv.
He was the hero.
He was the one everyone would remember.
He would put his name in all the history books that were written from this point onwards.
He would find all the Telepaths hidden in their mansions with their mindwiped politician friends.
He would kill them all.
Everyone would love him for it. He would have a dozen girlfriends and a million followers. He would finally clean the halls of office and tear down to alien-backed telepathic regime.
As those ideas begin to take shape within Randall, my own mind sharpens. Adrenaline courses through my veins yet again as stress presses down on me.
All those new instincts guide me, holding muscle and bone hostage.
My will becomes a sword and prepares to fall upon my foe.
How easy would it be, to just reach out and use my power?
To let the stream flow from behind my eyes and snuff out the candle of his life.
For a second. I actually considered it.
Even though it was a vile and disgusting idea.
To kill someone when their back was turned. To hunt them before they hunted me.
Fear and dread rise to meet the challenge.
In spite of all that, I’m still me.
I’m still the same recent graduate.
I’m still a good person. I’m not a murderer. I know that for a fact. Nothing else matters.
‘But would it be wrong? Wouldn’t killing him save more lives?’
There was a very real chance that this was true.
[Meditation] rose up then. Its tender strings calming me down and reminding me that my kindness had almost gotten me killed more than once by this point. That the soldier had literally left me to die.
This guy just admitted to killing people. Multiple people from the sounds of it.
Was it, smart, to let him live? Was it the right thing to do? Was it something Thunder Fist would do?
I considered it some more.
My idol did have blood on his hands, from the many times he’d fought villains.
He’s explained his reasoning on interviews. Telling reporters that he hadn’t had a choice. That innocents would have died if he hadn’t done it.
Finally deciding to trust [Precognition] with the decision.
I saw an unreal me, overlapping with my form. I saw it lash out in wrath.
I saw its assault bouncing off harmlessly.
Then I saw it being cremated. Randall’s frame erupting in psychic fire.
I felt the heat, despite it being a mirage. Beads of sweat gathered on my forehead and I had to forcefully gather all the self-control I had left to keep from shaking.
‘Right. That is a very bad idea. I can’t help anyone if I’m dead.’
Instead, I began walking backwards as quietly as I could, inching away from Randall while he continued to talk.
Upon reaching the entrance to the chamber, I slipped into one of the tunnels and disappeared from sight. Tiptoeing into one of the many adjacent passages. Fading into the hungry darkness like a rat in a barn.
