Chapter 9: Plasma Pulse
The night air bit with autumn's approaching chill as Landon shadowed Ethan Torres on his campus patrol route, keeping to darkness between security lights. Godolkin's self-appointed enforcers—students with more ambition than sense—volunteered for these patrols to curry favor with administration, reporting minor infractions in exchange for recommendation letters and ranking boosts.
Ethan walked the perimeter with military precision, plasma energy crackling occasionally between his fingers when he thought no one was watching. The hothead's power was impressive but unstable—raw energy that could be projected as concussive force or searing plasma, dependent entirely on his emotional state. Perfect for Landon's purposes.
Target acquired. Now for the provocation.
Landon had spent days planning this confrontation, analyzing Ethan's patterns and triggers with methodical care. The plasma wielder had a well-documented temper and deep insecurity about his control—a volatile combination Landon intended to exploit. Energy Pulse would be a valuable addition to his growing arsenal, offering ranged offensive capabilities beyond what Enhanced Fire Control provided.
He stepped deliberately from the shadows, timing his appearance to startle. "Bit late for hall monitoring, isn't it, Ethan?"
Ethan spun, plasma instantly flaring around his clenched fists. "Vale? What the hell are you doing out past curfew?"
"Same as you," Landon shrugged, circling casually to maintain distance. "Enjoying the night air. Contemplating the mysteries of the universe. Wondering why Vought keeps a C-tier supe like you on patrol duty instead of someone who actually matters."
The plasma intensified, shifting from orange to blue as Ethan's anger spiked. "You're violating at least three campus regulations right now."
"And you're violating basic fashion sense with that wannabe hero outfit," Landon countered, gesturing at Ethan's custom patrol uniform—a poor imitation of professional hero gear. "Did your mom sew that for you, or did you order it special from Supes-R-Us?"
"You think you're funny," Ethan growled, advancing a step. "But I've seen your file, Vale. No registered powers, bottom percentile in combat training. You're nothing but a mouth with legs."
Landon grinned, the expression calculated to maximize provocation. "Interesting that you've checked my file. Obsessed much? I'm flattered, really, but you're not my type. I prefer people who can actually control their abilities without throwing temper tantrums."
The jab struck precisely as intended. Ethan's control slipped, plasma flaring white-hot around his hands as his expression contorted with rage. "You want to see control? How about I show you exactly what I can do?"
"I'm trembling with anticipation," Landon taunted, positioning himself for maximum impact. "Show me what a third-rate plasma jockey can—"
The blast caught him mid-sentence, a concentrated burst of superheated energy that struck his chest with devastating force. The plasma burned through tissue and bone instantly, vaporizing his heart and lungs in a microsecond of excruciating agony before consciousness mercifully fled.
Landon revived behind the gymnasium storage shed, the smell of freshly cut grass mingling with distant chlorine from the indoor pool. His extremities tingled with pins and needles, fingers and toes numb as though circulation had just returned after hours of restriction. He flexed his hands experimentally, watching with detached fascination as electricity sparked between his fingertips—tiny blue arcs that danced across his skin before dissipating.
[ENERGY PULSE (D-RANK) ACQUIRED. ZAPPY, BUT DON'T FRY YOURSELF.]
The system's message pulsed across his vision as Landon pushed himself to a sitting position, testing the boundaries of his new ability. D-rank—middle-tier, but with potential for growth through practice and possible merges. He channeled a small amount of energy to his palm, watching as it coalesced into a glowing orb of concentrated force. The power felt different from Fire Control—less heat, more kinetic potential, like holding a miniature thunderstorm in his hand.
Nine deaths. Nine powers. Progress continues.
The numbness persisted as he stood, a persistent tingling that made each step feel distant, disconnected from his body. The debuff was uncomfortable but manageable—he'd endured worse after previous revivals. At least this time he maintained full motor control, unlike the dizziness from Enhanced Speed or the fever from merging Fire Control and Heat Generation.
Landon checked his watch, surprised to find only forty-five minutes had passed since his confrontation with Ethan. The system was becoming more efficient at revival, perhaps adapting to his increasing frequency of death. He wasn't sure whether to find that comforting or disturbing.
He made his way back toward the dorms, keeping to shadows out of habit despite campus security being occupied with the "missing student" that Ethan had undoubtedly reported by now. Tomorrow would bring questions, but for tonight, he could enjoy the quiet satisfaction of another successful acquisition.
The quad stretched empty and silent before him, security lights casting pools of harsh illumination between longer stretches of darkness. Landon was halfway across when movement caught his eye—a familiar silhouette sitting alone on a bench beneath one of the ancient oak trees.
Marie.
She hadn't noticed him yet, her attention focused on a tablet in her lap, the screen's blue glow illuminating her features in sharp relief. Her posture radiated tension, shoulders hunched slightly as her finger scrolled through what appeared to be medical documents.
Landon considered slipping past unnoticed, avoiding questions about his whereabouts that would require more lies. But something in her solitary vigil stopped him—the same something that had been eroding his calculated detachment since arriving at Godolkin.
Bad idea. Keep walking.
He approached instead, deliberately scuffing his shoe against the pathway to announce his presence. Marie looked up sharply, tablet instantly dark as she spotted him.
"Landon." His name carried equal parts relief and accusation. "Ethan's telling everyone he vaporized you on the north quad three hours ago. Campus security's doing a sweep."
"Clearly exaggerated," Landon replied, dropping onto the bench beside her. The damp grass beneath his feet soaked through his shoes, cold seeping into his already numb toes. "Though not for lack of trying on his part."
Marie studied him with medical precision, noting details most would miss—the slight tremor in his hands, the dilated pupils, the too-careful way he held himself. "What happened? Really."
"Ethan and I had a disagreement about curfew enforcement. He expressed his opinion energetically." Landon flexed his fingers, trying to restore feeling. "I expressed my opinion by temporarily relocating."
"Bullshit." The word emerged softly but with absolute certainty. "I've seen plasma injuries, Landon. There's no 'temporarily relocating' from a direct hit."
The challenge hung between them, Marie's gaze unwavering as she waited for a truth he couldn't provide. Landon rubbed the back of his neck, buying time to construct a plausible explanation.
"Copy ability," he offered finally, the familiar lie falling into place. "Kicked in just before impact. Gave me enough energy resistance to survive, though not without some side effects." He held up his still-tingling hands as evidence.
Marie's expression remained skeptical, but something in her posture softened slightly. "One of these days, that luck of yours is going to run out."
"Probably," Landon agreed, surprising himself with the honesty behind the admission. The system had never specified any limit to revivals, but each death felt like tempting fate, pushing boundaries that were never meant to be tested. "But not today."
They sat in companionable silence, the night air cool against Landon's skin as feeling gradually returned to his extremities. The quad stretched empty around them, Godolkin sleeping while they kept vigil for different reasons—Marie studying medical texts that might help control her blood abilities, Landon recovering from his latest death in service of power acquisition.
"You know," Marie said finally, her voice pitched low despite their solitude, "most people try to avoid dying at Godolkin, not run headlong into it."
Landon studied the security lights reflecting off distant windows, their steady glow mimicking the stars obscured by campus light pollution. "Maybe survival looks different for some of us."
The words carried more truth than he'd intended, revealing something of the calculation behind his recklessness. Marie turned toward him, her expression shifting from exasperation to something more complicated—concern layered with growing understanding.
"Just be careful," she said after a long pause. "Whatever game you're playing... it matters to some people whether you make it through."
The simple statement landed with unexpected weight, creating a warm pressure in Landon's chest that had nothing to do with his new ability. He'd come to Godolkin prepared to use people as tools, as stepping stones toward power and survival. He hadn't expected anyone to genuinely care whether he lived or died.
"I'll keep that in mind," he managed, the words inadequate but sincere.
Marie nodded, standing with a small stretch. "Good. Because if you get yourself killed for real, I'll be pissed about wasting all this worry on your reckless ass."
Her departure left Landon alone on the bench, energy pulsing beneath his skin as feeling returned to his extremities in waves of pins and needles. The system's voice remained mercifully silent, giving him space to process the unexpected weight of Marie's concern.
[MARIE'S WORRIED: SHE'S GOT YOUR BACK. DON'T WASTE IT.]
The residence hall common room hummed with late-night conversations and the clicking of keyboards as students prepared for upcoming midterms. Landon sat in a corner, ostensibly reviewing notes while surreptitiously practicing his new Energy Pulse ability. Small charges danced between his fingers beneath the table, invisible to casual observers but gradually restoring feeling to his still-numbed extremities.
Andre dropped into the chair opposite him, magnetism automatically attracting the scattered paperclips on Landon's notes into a perfect circle. "Heard you had a run-in with Ethan. Campus security's still looking for body parts."
"Greatly exaggerated," Landon replied, carefully neutralizing the energy between his fingers before Andre could notice. "Though not for lack of effort on his part."
"You have a talent for pissing off the most volatile people on campus," Andre observed, leaning back with the casual confidence that seemed permanently etched into his posture. "It's almost impressive."
"I'm gifted that way."
Andre studied him, something calculating behind his usually carefree expression. "You know, for someone with supposedly no abilities, you survive an awful lot of lethal encounters."
The observation cut dangerously close to truth. Landon maintained eye contact, neither confirming nor deflecting, letting Andre reach his own conclusions. Their fragile alliance had evolved into something approaching friendship, but trust had its limits in Godolkin's cutthroat environment.
"Speaking of survival," Landon changed subjects smoothly, "how's the preparation for Brink's combat practical going?"
Andre allowed the deflection with a knowing smirk. "Changing topics? Subtle, Vale. Very subtle."
Their conversation shifted to safer territory as more students filtered into the common room. Landon half-listened, his attention diverted by the persistent tingling in his fingertips and the small charges of energy that occasionally sparked without conscious direction. Energy Pulse would require more practice before he could fully control it—preferably somewhere private, away from curious eyes.
A perfect opportunity for one last prank before turning in.
"Be right back," Landon excused himself, slipping away while Andre debated ranking methodology with another student.
He made his way to Ethan's dorm room, confirming its emptiness before using Shape-Shifting to mimic the residence advisor's appearance—just enough to fool the security camera in the hallway for the brief moment he needed to access the door. Inside, he located Ethan's prized possession: the latest Vought-branded smartphone, a reward for his top performance in "Hero Communications" last semester.
Landon channeled a precisely calculated Energy Pulse into the device—enough to short its circuits without causing visible damage. The phone's screen flickered once before going permanently dark, a faint smell of burnt electronics the only evidence of tampering. He placed it exactly as he'd found it, then slipped back into the hallway, resuming his normal appearance once clear of the camera's range.
The prank was petty but satisfying—a small revenge for plasma to the chest, and an excellent test of his new ability's precision. Ethan would assume a manufacturing defect, never connecting the malfunction to his earlier confrontation with a student he believed he'd vaporized.
Returning to the common room, Landon found Andre still deep in discussion, now joined by a small group that included Emma. She smiled when she spotted him, scooting over to make space on the couch. Landon joined them, slipping back into conversation as though he'd never left, though Andre's knowing glance suggested he hadn't been as stealthy as he'd thought.
"Did you do something?" Emma whispered, leaning close enough that her shoulder pressed against his.
"Why would you think that?" Landon kept his expression perfectly innocent.
"Because you've got that look," she replied, her own smile widening. "The one that says you've just caused chaos and are waiting for everyone to notice."
Before Landon could respond, a distant shout of frustration echoed down the hallway—Ethan discovering his defunct phone. Andre burst into laughter, connecting the dots immediately.
"You didn't," he said, eyes bright with admiration.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Landon replied, though he couldn't quite suppress his smirk. "Pure coincidence."
Emma shook her head, but her smile remained. "You're terrible."
"You're smiling, though."
"Only because it wasn't my phone," she countered, though the warmth in her eyes suggested otherwise.
The group's laughter mingled as Ethan's distant cursing continued, a moment of genuine camaraderie that felt dangerously close to belonging. Landon allowed himself to enjoy it, even as part of him remained detached, cataloguing these connections as assets rather than friendships.
[PRANK SUCCESS: ETHAN'S MAD, GROUP'S AMUSED.]
Nine deaths. Nine powers. And a growing circle of people who might actually miss him if he failed to come back one day. The contradiction wasn't lost on him as the evening wound down, students gradually filtering back to their rooms until only a few nightowls remained in the common area.
Landon eventually made his way to his own room, the numbness in his extremities finally fading to tolerable levels. He tested Energy Pulse one last time before sleep, creating a small orb that hovered above his palm, pulsing with potential that could be weaponized or harnessed depending on his need.
Another tool in the arsenal. Another step toward survival. Another death survived.
But Marie's words lingered as he drifted toward sleep: "It matters to some people whether you make it through."
The unexpected warmth of that realization followed him into dreams, a strange counterbalance to the cold calculation that had driven him since arriving in this blood-soaked world.
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
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