Chapter 7: Mind Games
Professor Brink's psychology classroom reeked of coffee and ambition, the scent of caffeine mingling with the static tension of thirty supes packed into close proximity. Landon slouched in his seat, carefully maintaining his facade of average mediocrity while tracking Riley Watson's movements from the corner of his eye. The telepath sat three rows ahead, her copper hair catching the fluorescent light as she dominated the class discussion with the casual arrogance of someone used to knowing others' thoughts before they spoke them.
Perfect target. Perfect power. Perfect timing.
Landon had chosen today's confrontation with precision. Cate's growing interest in his abilities made Mind Control Immunity essential—a defensive power that would protect the system's secrets from probing telepaths. Riley, though less skilled than Cate, still possessed lethal potential when provoked.
"Ethical limitations of telepathic abilities," Brink droned, chalk dust hanging in the air as he wrote on the board. "Who can provide a coherent framework?"
Riley's hand shot up, as expected. "Telepathy requires boundaries, just like any power. I personally maintain a surface-level scan unless given explicit consent or facing imminent danger."
Bullshit. She digs through minds like they're clearance bins.
Landon raised his hand, surprising several classmates who'd grown accustomed to his silence. Brink's eyebrow lifted slightly, but he nodded permission.
"I'd argue consent is meaningless when most people don't know they're being read," Landon said, deliberately dropping his stutter. "How many times have you plucked thoughts without permission, Riley?"
The classroom temperature seemed to drop several degrees. Riley turned slowly in her seat, eyes narrowing as they fixed on Landon.
"Excuse me?" Her voice carried the dangerous softness of a predator assessing prey.
"Just curious if you practice what you preach," Landon continued, pushing harder. "Or do ethics only apply when professors are watching?"
Riley's jaw tightened. "You don't know what you're talking about, Vale."
"Don't I?" Landon leaned forward, voice carrying just enough to reach her. "I wonder what Vought would think about how you use your abilities outside class. The rankings committee might find it... interesting."
It was a calculated gambit—insinuating she'd been spying for personal gain, threatening her precious rank. For someone as status-obsessed as Riley, it was equivalent to a knife at her throat.
Her mental attack came without warning, a psychic sledgehammer that bypassed all physical defenses. Landon felt his consciousness fragment as Riley's power crushed his mind from within, shattering thoughts and memories into jagged shards. His body seized, blood vessels in his eyes rupturing as the telepathic assault overwhelmed his system.
The last thing he heard was Brink's shout of alarm, drowned by the static roar of his own disintegrating consciousness.
Landon revived in an empty classroom, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like angry insects. His ears rang with persistent static, a metallic taste coating his tongue as his brain attempted to reconcile being whole again after telepathic dismemberment. Every nerve ending seemed raw, hypersensitive to the wooden desk beneath his fingers, the stale air filling his lungs.
[MIND CONTROL IMMUNITY (C+) ACQUIRED. BRAIN'S SAFE—FOR NOW, COWARD.]
The system's message pulsed blue in his peripheral vision as Landon rubbed his temples, testing the boundaries of his new ability. He could feel it settling into his consciousness—a psychic barrier like reinforced glass, transparent but impenetrable. C+ rank—not perfect protection, but enough to shield his core thoughts from casual probing.
He checked his watch, realizing nearly an hour had passed since Riley's attack. The classroom had emptied, students and professor alike abandoning the scene of his apparent death. Only his belongings remained, neatly piled on the desk—someone's halfhearted attempt at respect for the deceased.
Seven deaths. Seven powers. Progress.
The door creaked open, revealing Marie's concerned face as she peered into the classroom. Landon quickly schooled his expression, allowing the lingering disorientation from revival to show—a convenient cover for his strange behavior.
"There you are," Marie said, stepping inside. The scent of iron followed her, stronger when she was worried. "Brink said they took your body to the infirmary, but clearly..." She gestured vaguely at his very alive form.
Landon managed a weak smile. "Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated?"
"Not funny, Vale." Marie crossed her arms, studying him with medical precision. "Riley's attack should have turned your brain to soup. Yet here you sit, without even a nosebleed to show for it."
"Copy ability kicked in at the last second," Landon lied smoothly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Temporary immunity. Lucky timing."
Marie's eyes narrowed. "That's not how telepathic attacks work. There's no defense once they're inside your head."
"Apparently there is." Landon gathered his belongings, needing to escape her too-perceptive gaze. The static in his ears intensified when he stood, a reminder of the trauma his consciousness had endured. "I'm fine, Marie. Really."
She fell into step beside him as they exited the classroom, her silence more telling than any accusation. The afternoon sun slanted through windows, painting golden rectangles on the hallway floor that Landon carefully stepped through, finding strange comfort in the pattern.
"You provoked her deliberately," Marie said finally as they reached the building's exit. "I saw your face when she turned around. You were expecting it."
Careful. Marie notices too much.
"Maybe I'm tired of telepaths thinking they can root around in people's heads without consequences." The half-truth came easily, grounded in genuine irritation.
They emerged onto the central quad, the fountain's gentle splashing providing white noise that eased the static in Landon's ears. Marie guided them toward a bench in the shade, her expression unreadable.
"These 'accidents' are adding up," she said once they were seated, voice pitched low. "Jake, Tara, Jordan, Andre... now Riley. That's five students who've nearly killed you in less than a month."
"Bad luck."
"No one has luck that bad." Marie turned to face him directly. "Or that good, depending on how you look at it."
Water cascaded from the fountain's upper tier, sunlight catching droplets mid-air and transforming them into momentary prisms. Landon focused on the pattern, avoiding Marie's searching gaze.
"Everyone has secrets," he said finally. "Even you."
Something shifted in Marie's expression—recognition, perhaps, of the boundaries they both maintained. Her abilities came with their own dark history, one she'd hinted at but never fully shared.
"Fair enough," she conceded. "Just... be careful with these mind games you're playing. Riley's furious. Says she couldn't read you at all by the end."
Landon allowed a small smile. "Good."
Marie shook her head, but her posture relaxed slightly. "You're either the luckiest idiot at Godolkin or the most suicidal. I haven't decided which yet."
"Why choose? I contain multitudes."
Her unexpected laugh brightened something in Landon's chest, easing the lingering psychic pain. They sat in companionable silence, watching other students cross the quad in hurried clusters—all careful to give the notorious blood manipulator and her inexplicably resilient friend a wide berth.
[SUPPORT ACCEPTED: MARIE'S YOUR ROCK. DON'T MESS IT UP.]
"Fascinating recovery, Mr. Vale."
Cate's voice sliced through Landon's concentration as he studied in the library, the scent of her expensive perfume announcing her presence before her words did. She slid into the chair opposite him, her smile pleasant but eyes calculating.
Landon's new psychic barrier hummed to life instantly, a reflexive defense against the campus's most notorious telepath. He kept his surface thoughts deliberately bland—annoyance at the interruption, concern about upcoming exams—while burying his secrets beneath layers of static.
"Thanks," he replied, closing his textbook. "Though 'recovery' implies I was sick. I just had a disagreement with Riley."
"A disagreement that left you convulsing on the classroom floor with burst blood vessels in your eyes." Cate's perfectly manicured nails tapped a rhythm on the table's wooden surface. "Yet here you sit, not even 24 hours later, looking remarkably untraumatized."
Landon shrugged, maintaining eye contact despite the danger. "Quick healer."
"So I've noticed." Her smile remained fixed, but something predatory lurked beneath it. "First Jake, then Tara. Jordan in the training arena. Andre's magnetic tantrum. Luke's... incident. Now Riley. You collect near-death experiences like some people collect baseball cards."
She's been watching. Cataloging. Connecting dots.
"Bad luck," Landon offered, the same explanation he'd given Marie, knowing it would satisfy Cate even less.
"Luck." She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Do you know how rare copy abilities are, Landon? Less than 0.03% of the supe population. And those that exist are highly specialized—one type of power, narrow conditions."
"Guess I'm special." Landon felt his psychic barrier strengthen as she probed gently against it, like fingers testing a locked door.
Cate's eyes widened fractionally—surprise quickly masked. "You are, aren't you? In ways I don't think even Vought understands yet."
The conversation had ventured into dangerous territory. Landon needed an exit strategy before Cate pushed harder.
"Was there something specific you wanted, Cate? I've got an exam to study for." He gestured at his closed textbook, deliberately misinterpreting her interest.
Her laugh held genuine amusement. "Direct. I like that." She stood, smoothing her skirt with practiced grace. "I just wanted to check on a fellow student after a traumatic event. But I can see you're quite... resilient."
"Thanks for your concern."
"Oh, it's not concern." Her smile turned sharp. "It's curiosity. You're a puzzle, Landon Vale. And I've always enjoyed solving puzzles."
She departed with a lingering glance that carried clear warning: this conversation wasn't over. Landon remained seated, outwardly calm while his mind raced. Cate represented perhaps the greatest threat to his secrets—not just because of her powers, but because of her connection to Vought's inner circle.
His new psychic immunity would buy him time, but not indefinitely. He needed stronger protections, more powers, deeper connections with potential allies. The game was escalating faster than he'd anticipated.
[CATE'S INTRIGUED: WATCH YOUR BACK, LIAR.]
Landon reopened his textbook, though the words blurred before his eyes. The static in his ears had faded to a distant hum, but Cate's warning lingered like perfume in still air.
Seven deaths. Seven powers. And still not enough.
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
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