Chapter 11: Pyrokinetic Power
[Landon Vale]
[Attributes]
[Strength]: 11.5
[Agility]: 12.0
[Intelligence]: 11.2
[Resilience]: 9.8
[Fatigue]: 63%
[Abilities] Enhanced Speed (E-rank) | Enhanced Strength (E-rank) | Shape-Shifting (C-rank) | Fire Control (B-rank) | Heat Generation (F-rank) | Magnetism (C+) | Energy Pulse (D-rank) | Mind Control Immunity (C+) | Invisibility (E-rank) | Blood Control (B+)
[Ability Vault]
Enhanced Speed (E-rank): Active | Stability: 92%Enhanced Strength (E-rank): Active | Stability: 91%Kinetic Force (D+): Active (MERGED: Speed + Strength) | Stability: 85%Shape-Shifting (C-rank): Active | Stability: 88%Fire Control (B-rank): Active | Stability: 83%Heat Generation (F-rank): Active | Stability: 75%Enhanced Fire Control (A-rank): Active (MERGED: Fire + Heat) | Stability: 80%Magnetism (C+): Active | Stability: 87%Energy Pulse (D-rank): Active | Stability: 84%Mind Control Immunity (C+): Active | Stability: 90%Invisibility (E-rank): Active | Stability: 82%Blood Control (B+): Active | Stability: 78%NEW MERGE OPTION: Blood Control (B+) + Fire Control (B) = Pyrokinetic Blood (A+) | Success Rate: 73% | Risk: Severe Migraine (5-7 days)
[Death Ledger] Death #1: Jake Morris (Speedster) | Enhanced Speed (E-rank) Death #2: Tara Wilson (Strength) | Enhanced Strength (E-rank)
Death #3: Jordan Li (Shape-Shifter) | Shape-Shifting (C-rank) Death #4: Luke Riordan (Golden Boy) | Fire Control (B-rank) Death #5: Sam Varner (Temp V) | Heat Generation (F-rank) Death #6: Andre Anderson (Magnetism) | Magnetism (C+) Death #7: Riley Watson (Telepath) | Mind Control Immunity (C+) Death #8: Mia Chen (Stealth) | Invisibility (E-rank) Death #9: Ethan Torres (Plasma) | Energy Pulse (D-rank) Death #10: Marie Moreau (Blood) | Blood Control (B+)
[System Notes]
Ten deaths and still a coward. When will you aim higher? Blood Control + Fire Control = potential game-changer. Worth the pain? Marie's trauma is YOUR doing. Feeling guilty won't fix what you broke. Cate's watching. Your "copy ability" lie is wearing thin. Tick tock.
Landon stared at the system interface floating in his vision, its electric blue glow casting eerie shadows across his dorm room walls. The lamp on his desk flickered, mirroring his unsteady focus as he weighed the merge suggestion—Blood Control and Fire Control into Pyrokinetic Blood. A+ rank. A power that might actually give him a fighting chance against Vought's higher-tier supes.
The risk is worth it. Has to be.
He dismissed the HUD with a thought, focusing instead on the practical challenge before him. Merges required total concentration, a melding of abilities at their conceptual core rather than just simultaneous activation. Previous attempts had taught him that emotion played a key role—merge success depended on finding the natural affinity between powers, the resonance that connected them.
Blood and fire. Life and destruction. Opposite forces with shared intensity.
Landon settled cross-legged on his bed, closing his eyes as he reached inward, visualizing his abilities as distinct energies within his system. Blood Control manifested as a crimson current, pulsing with life and potential. Fire Control appeared as a dancing flame, volatile and hungry. He focused on the intersection between them—heat, flow, transformation.
The merge began slowly, a warm tingle at his center that spread outward. Blood became fuel, fire became purpose, the two energies spiraling around each other, testing boundaries before beginning to interweave. The heat intensified, blood boiling in his veins as the merge accelerated, powers fusing at a molecular level that transcended understanding.
[MERGE: BLOOD + FIRE = PYROKINETIC BLOOD (A+). MIGRAINES FOR DAYS. WORTH THE PAIN?]
The system's message flashed an instant before agony exploded behind Landon's eyes—a spike of pain so intense it felt like his skull was being split from within. He collapsed backward, a strangled gasp escaping as white-hot pressure built in his cranium, vision tunneling to pinpricks of light in a sea of darkness.
The migraine was immediate and devastating, worse than any previous merge debuff. Blood roared in his ears as his newly created ability settled into his system, the price of power extracted in suffering that left him curled on sweat-soaked sheets, hands pressed against his temples as if he could physically contain the pain threatening to shatter him.
Hours passed, or perhaps minutes—time lost meaning in the haze of agony. When awareness finally returned in fractured pieces, Landon found himself staring at the ceiling, morning light streaming through blinds he hadn't closed, each ray an ice pick to his brain.
A+ rank. The strongest yet. Better be worth this.
He tested the ability cautiously, raising a trembling hand. Both blood and fire responded to his will—not as separate forces but as a single unified power. Droplets of his blood rose from a papercut on his finger, igniting into tiny orbs of flame that hovered in the air, awaiting direction. The control was extraordinary, precision beyond what either ability offered individually, though the effort sent fresh spikes of pain shooting through his skull.
Pyrokinetic Blood. A power with devastating potential.
The triumph of acquisition was short-lived as a wave of nausea forced him to the bathroom, where he spent the next hour reacquainting himself with every meal from the previous day. The migraine pulsed in time with his heartbeat, each throb a reminder that A+ rank abilities didn't come without proportional cost.
"You look like death warmed over."
Marie's voice cut through the fog of pain that had enveloped Landon for the past three days. She stood in his doorway, a bottle of water in one hand and what appeared to be pain medication in the other. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, hints of her own recent trauma following the training accident.
Landon managed a weak smile from his position on the bed, where he'd spent most of his time since the merge. "Feel worse than I look."
"That would be impressive." Marie entered, closing the door softly behind her. The scent of antiseptic lingered around her—medical wing residue. "Campus rumor says you've got the flu. I'm guessing that's not accurate."
"Close enough." He accepted the water and pills gratefully, dry-swallowing them before taking a sip. "How'd you find me?"
"Luke." She perched on the edge of his desk, studying him with clinical precision. "Said you'd promised to find me days ago, then disappeared. I was worried."
The guilt that had been simmering since their training session flared anew. Landon had intended to seek her out immediately, to ease the trauma of believing she'd killed him. Instead, he'd been incapacitated by the merge, leaving her to suffer alone.
"I'm sorry," he said, the words inadequate but sincere. "The recovery was... complicated."
Marie's expression remained carefully neutral, though something flickered in her eyes—doubt, perhaps, or lingering shock. "You shouldn't have survived that, Landon. I hit your heart directly. I felt it... stop."
He rubbed the back of his neck, the familiar defensive gesture buying time while he assembled his cover story. "Copy ability. Temporary cardiovascular regeneration. It's unpredictable, sometimes takes days to fully stabilize."
"That's not how blood injuries work." Her voice was soft but certain, the knowledge of a student who'd excelled in medical studies. "And it's not the first time you've survived something fatal."
The accusation hung between them, unanswered as another wave of migraine pain washed over Landon, forcing him to close his eyes. He heard Marie move, felt the mattress dip as she sat beside him. Her hand was cool against his forehead, a doctor's touch assessing fever.
"Whatever your secret is," she said finally, "it's not worth this. You're burning up."
"Just need rest."
"What you need," Marie countered, "is to stop whatever you're doing before it kills you permanently."
The irony of her concern wasn't lost on Landon. He'd engineered his own death at her hands, yet here she was, caring for him in the aftermath—not just of the death she knew about, but the merge she didn't. The dichotomy twisted in his chest, a knot of guilt and gratitude that the migraine couldn't quite drown out.
"I'll be more careful," he promised, knowing it was a lie even as he spoke it. The path to survival required more deaths, more powers, more merges—each with their own cost, their own consequences.
Marie's sigh suggested she recognized the emptiness of his words, but she didn't press. Instead, she arranged his pillows more comfortably, placed the water bottle within easy reach, and stood to leave.
"I'll check on you tomorrow. Try to actually be alive when I get here."
The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving Landon alone with his thoughts and the pulsing agony in his skull. He tested Pyrokinetic Blood again, forming a small sphere of blood from his still-healing papercut, igniting it into a perfect orb of flame that cast dancing shadows across the wall. The control was exquisite, worth the pain if measured only in power gained.
But Marie's face—concerned despite having every reason to hate him—suggested there might be other measurements, other values the system's cold calculations didn't account for.
[MARIE'S WORRIED: SHE'S GOT YOUR BACK. DON'T WASTE IT.]
The coffee shop buzzed with afternoon energy, students seeking caffeine to power through end-of-semester projects. Emma sat across from Landon, her small hands wrapped around a steaming mug of lavender latte, the scent mingling pleasantly with the coffee shop's ambient aromas. Concern etched fine lines around her eyes as she studied his still-pale face.
"You should be in bed," she said, stirring her drink absently. "You look terrible."
Five days after the merge, the migraine had receded to a dull throb that medication mostly managed. Landon offered a smile that felt more genuine than he'd expected. "And miss our date? Not a chance."
Emma's blush was immediate, spreading across her cheeks in a way that made her unconsciously shrink slightly—a nervous habit tied to her size-shifting abilities. "Is that what this is? A date?"
"Coffee, conversation, cute girl?" Landon lifted his mug in a small toast. "Definitely a date."
The flirtation felt strange on his tongue—not calculated for alliance-building as most of his interactions were, but something closer to genuine interest. Emma's steady presence during his "illness" had been unexpected, her visits bringing homework assignments and campus gossip that provided welcome distraction from the merge's debilitating pain.
"Well, if it's a date," Emma replied, regaining her composure, "then you should know I don't kiss boys who might have contagious diseases."
"Lucky for both of us, I'm fully recovered."
"Hmm." She studied him over the rim of her mug, doubt evident. "Marie says otherwise. She's been checking on you, you know. Seems to think you're pushing yourself too hard."
The mention of Marie sent a pang of guilt through Landon's chest. "Marie worries too much."
"Maybe she has reason to." Emma's voice dropped, serious suddenly. "What happened in that training session, Landon? There are rumors..."
He knew what she was asking—how he'd survived what witnesses described as a fatal wound. The question danced dangerously close to his secrets, a line Emma had approached but never directly crossed until now.
"Just a training accident," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Looks worse than it was."
Emma held his gaze for a long moment before nodding slightly, accepting the deflection without believing it. Her acceptance of his boundaries, her willingness to let him keep his secrets, created a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with Pyrokinetic Blood.
"Whatever you say, Vale." Her smile returned, small but genuine. "Just try not to die before our second date, okay? I've got plans for you."
The flirtatious implication lightened the mood, steering them back to safer territory. They spent the next hour discussing classes, campus politics, and the upcoming end-of-semester events, Landon's migraine fading to background noise as he found himself genuinely enjoying her company.
[DATE SET: EMMA'S ALL IN. DON'T CHOKE, ROMEO.]
"So you're not dead after all."
Andre leaned against the doorframe of Landon's room, Luke peering over his shoulder. Both looked equal parts amused and concerned as they surveyed the pale figure hunched over textbooks on the bed.
"Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated," Landon quipped, setting aside his notes. The migraine had finally subsided to manageable levels, allowing him to catch up on missed assignments. "What brings the dynamic duo to my humble abode?"
"Welfare check," Luke replied, entering without invitation. He tossed a paper bag onto the bed—takeout from the campus grill. "Figured you might be tired of cafeteria soup delivered by your nurse squad."
The casual reference to Marie and Emma's caretaking during his "illness" brought a small smile to Landon's lips. "They've been surprisingly attentive."
"Don't get used to it," Andre warned, dropping into Landon's desk chair. "Once you're fully recovered, Emma's expecting an actual functional date, not just coffee with a zombie."
"And Marie's got questions," Luke added, his tone more serious. "Lots of them."
The implicit warning wasn't lost on Landon. His resurrection after Marie's fatal strike had raised too many eyebrows, too many whispers. The "copy ability" explanation was wearing thin under scrutiny from those closest to him.
"I'll deal with it," Landon said, opening the takeout bag. The greasy scent of burger and fries filled the room, making his stomach growl appreciatively after days of bland soup.
"You better," Andre replied, spinning lazily in the chair. "Because whatever your deal is, Vale, it's getting harder to cover for you. Even Brink's asking questions about your miraculous recovery."
The mention of Professor Brink sent a chill down Landon's spine. The professor's ties to Vought's inner circle made him particularly dangerous—a direct line to resources that might uncover the truth about the system, about Landon's deaths and revivals.
"I appreciate the heads-up," Landon said, keeping his tone light despite the warning bells ringing in his mind. "And the food. Didn't realize how hungry I was."
"That's what friends are for," Luke replied, the word 'friends' hanging in the air with unexpected weight. "Feeding you, warning you about impending interrogations, pretending not to notice when you bounce back from fatal injuries."
The last part was delivered with a pointed look that Landon deliberately ignored, focusing instead on unwrapping his burger. The implicit agreement—that they would continue accepting his impossible survivals without pressing too hard for explanations—felt like both a gift and a burden. Trust given without being earned, based on lies that grew with each death and revival.
"Hot blood running through your veins again?" Andre asked, eyebrow raised in challenge.
Landon nearly choked on his first bite, the question hitting too close to his new ability. "Something like that."
"Well, whenever you're ready to rejoin the land of the living," Luke said, standing, "we've got plans to discuss. The kind that might interest someone with your... resilience."
The implication was clear—Luke's mission to expose The Woods, to save his brother and prevent future victims, required allies willing to take risks. Risks that Landon, with his apparent inability to stay dead, was uniquely suited for.
"I'll be ready soon," Landon promised, meaning it despite the lingering effects of the merge.
After they left, he tested Pyrokinetic Blood again, forming a perfect sphere of flaming blood above his palm. The control was effortless now, the ability fully integrated into his system. A+ rank power, acquired through death and pain, strengthened through days of suffering.
Worth it. Has to be worth it.
But as he extinguished the flame, letting the blood reabsorb into his skin, Landon found himself wondering what measuring stick he was using—what definition of "worth" could balance power against the web of lies and manipulation he'd woven around people who genuinely seemed to care whether he lived or died.
[GROUP'S TIGHT: YOU'RE NOT ALONE, SOFTIE.]
The system's message felt less mocking than usual, almost sympathetic in its assessment. Landon traced a pattern on his blanket, an old habit from Ohio that surfaced in moments of uncertainty. Ten deaths. Ten powers. One powerful merge. And a growing circle of allies becoming something dangerously close to friends.
The contradiction wasn't lost on him as he returned to his textbooks, the last echoes of the migraine fading with the setting sun outside his window.
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
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