Chapter 18: Riot Rumble
The dining hall erupted in chaos at exactly 12:47 PM, when every screen on Godolkin's campus simultaneously displayed Landon's message. The air filled with the cacophony of shattering plates, overturned chairs, and hundreds of voices raised in confusion, outrage, and dawning understanding.
Landon sat frozen at his usual table, watching his carefully planned digital rebellion unfold in real time. The message blazed across monitors, phones, and tablets in stark white letters that seemed to burn themselves into every retina: Ever wonder why your rankings never match your performance?
Holy shit. It actually worked.
Around him, students reacted like a hive mind suddenly awakened. Some pointed at screens in disbelief, others frantically tried to screenshot the message before it disappeared, and a growing number began shouting questions that had been festering in whispered conversations for months.
"The rankings are rigged?" someone yelled from across the room.
"What students disappeared?" another voice demanded.
Marie grabbed his arm, her dark eyes wide with something between terror and exhilaration. "Landon, what did you do?"
Before he could answer, the first projectile flew—a plastic tray sailing toward the main screen displaying his message. It struck with a hollow clatter that seemed to break some invisible dam. Suddenly everyone was moving, shouting, surging toward the exits or the screens or each other in a tide of unleashed frustration.
The scent of spilled food and teenage adrenaline flooded Landon's nostrils as bodies pressed around their table. His pulse hammered against his throat, but beneath the fear ran a current of fierce satisfaction. He'd lit the fuse. Now came the explosion.
"We need to get out of here," Marie said, but her voice was lost in the growing roar.
A security guard near the main entrance spoke rapidly into his radio, his face pale with panic. More guards appeared at the doorways, but they looked overwhelmed by the sheer volume of agitated students streaming toward them with questions, demands, accusations.
Then the first power flared.
Jake Morris—the speedster who'd killed Landon for his first ability—zipped between students in streaks of motion, his voice cracking as he shouted, "They've been lying to us this whole time!" His speed created wind currents that knocked over more food trays, adding to the chaos.
Ethan responded with a burst of plasma energy that scorched the ceiling tiles, his face twisted with months of suppressed rage. "Fuck their system!"
This is spiraling fast.
The dining hall transformed into a battlefield of teenage superhuman fury. Tara used her strength to flip an entire table, its metal legs screeching against the floor. Riley's telepathic abilities sent ripples of emotion through nearby students, amplifying their anger until it became a living thing.
Landon felt his pyrokinetic blood respond to the chaos, heat building in his veins as the system recognized a threat to his survival. The familiar weight of power pressed against his consciousness, offering solutions written in flame and violence.
But Marie moved first.
Her blood manipulation lashed out in crimson arcs, not to attack but to shield—creating barriers between the most volatile students and the security guards who were reaching for their weapons. The metallic scent of her power cut through the dining hall's chaos like a blade.
"Marie, what are you—" Landon started.
"Protecting people," she said fiercely, sweat beading on her forehead from the effort of maintaining multiple blood constructs. "Like someone should have thought to do before starting a riot."
Her words hit him like a physical blow. She was right. He'd lit this fire without considering who might get burned by it. Students who had nothing to do with his rebellion were caught in the crossfire, terrified and confused by violence they didn't understand.
Fix this. Now.
Landon let his pyrokinetic blood flow, but instead of weapon-forming the flames into weapons, he shaped them into barriers—walls of controlled fire that separated the most dangerous conflicts without actually hurting anyone. The heat was precise, surgical, designed to intimidate rather than injure.
[PYROKINETIC BLOOD STABILITY: 70%. HERO MODE, HUH?]
Not now, he thought at the system, sweat stinging his eyes as he maintained the fire walls. The dining hall had become a maze of flame and blood barriers, channeling the chaos into manageable streams.
"Landon!" Andre's voice cut through the noise.
The magnetic supe appeared beside their table, metal utensils and serving trays orbiting around him in defensive patterns. His dark skin gleamed with perspiration, but his grin was fierce and wild.
"This is insane," Andre said, deflecting a thrown chair with a gesture that sent it harmlessly into the wall. "I love it."
"People are getting hurt," Marie snapped, her blood barriers flickering with the strain of maintaining them.
"People were already getting hurt," Andre replied, his magnetic fields catching a stray plasma blast from Ethan and redirecting it safely into the ceiling. "Just quietly, where nobody could see it. Now at least it's honest."
Despite everything, Landon found himself almost smiling. Andre's magnetic charm was working even in crisis mode, somehow making mass student uprising sound like a reasonable Tuesday afternoon activity.
"Your magnetic personality is really shining through," Landon managed, his voice hoarse from the heat of his own flames.
Andre laughed—actually laughed—while using magnetism to prevent a metal tray from braining an unfortunate freshman. "Keep the jokes coming, man. It's good to know you haven't lost your sense of humor while accidentally starting the revolution."
[ANDRE'S YOUR BRO: CREW'S TIGHT.]
The system's assessment felt accurate. Whatever else happened, Andre had his back. That knowledge made the flames feel more manageable, the chaos less overwhelming.
But their moment of camaraderie was interrupted by a new voice, soft and honeyed despite the surrounding mayhem.
"Quite the spectacle you've created."
Cate Dunlap appeared beside their impromptu fortress of fire and blood, her blonde hair somehow still perfect despite the chaos swirling around them. Her presence immediately set off warning bells in Landon's mind—telepaths in crisis situations were inherently dangerous, especially when they looked this calm.
"Cate," Marie said warily, her blood barriers shifting to include the new arrival in their protected space. "What are you doing here?"
"Observing," Cate replied, her blue eyes fixed on Landon with uncomfortable intensity. "It's fascinating, really. How one person can inspire such... passionate responses."
Her voice carried undertones that made Landon's skin crawl. This wasn't casual conversation—this was an interrogation disguised as small talk.
"Just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time," Landon said carefully, maintaining his fire barriers while trying to appear nonchalant. "Story of my life, really."
Cate smiled, the expression sharp enough to cut glass. "Is it, though? Because from where I'm standing, it looks more like you're exactly where you planned to be."
The words hung between them like an accusation. Around them, the riot continued—students clashing with security, powers flaring in uncontrolled bursts, the dining hall transforming into something that belonged in a war zone rather than a university.
But Landon's attention was fixed on Cate's knowing expression, the way her eyes seemed to dissect his every reaction. She suspected something. Maybe not the full truth about his system or his strategic deaths, but enough to be dangerous.
"Planning requires foresight I definitely don't have," he replied, letting a note of self-deprecation into his voice. "I'm more of a 'survive the immediate crisis' kind of guy."
"Hmm." Cate tilted her head, blonde hair catching the light from his fire barriers. "And yet here you are, protecting people with powers that supposedly aren't yours. Using abilities you claim to have copied with remarkable skill and coordination."
She knows. She fucking knows.
The realization hit him like ice water. Cate wasn't just suspicious—she was actively building a case against him. Every word was chosen to probe for weaknesses, to test the boundaries of his carefully constructed lies.
Marie stepped closer to Landon, her blood barriers growing brighter as they responded to her protective instincts. "Leave him alone, Cate. Whatever game you're playing—"
"I'm not playing games," Cate said softly. "I'm trying to understand how someone with no apparent tactical training is somehow coordinating a multi-powered defense strategy in real time."
Her words were like surgical strikes, precisely aimed to expose the contradictions in his cover story. Normal students didn't manage complex power interactions with this level of finesse. Normal students didn't maintain calm under pressure while orchestrating protective barriers for others.
Normal students weren't Landon Vale.
"Lucky reflexes," he said, but the words felt hollow even to him.
Cate's smile widened. "Lucky. Right. Well, I'm sure we'll have lots of opportunities to discuss your remarkable luck once this dies down."
[CATE'S PLOTTING: WATCH IT, LIAR.]
The system's warning was unnecessary—he could see the threat in Cate's eyes, hear it in the careful modulation of her voice. She was planning something, and whatever it was would probably involve exposing him to people who could make him disappear permanently.
But before he could formulate a response, the dining hall's main doors burst open. Security forces flooded in—not campus guards this time, but professionals in tactical gear who moved with military precision.
"Attention students," a voice boomed through electronic amplification. "By order of the Dean's office, you are to cease all power usage immediately and report to designated gathering areas for questioning."
The riot's energy shifted, raw fury crystallizing into something more focused and dangerous. This wasn't just student uprising anymore—this was institutional crackdown meeting organized resistance.
Marie's barriers flared brighter. Andre's magnetic fields expanded. Around the dining hall, other students readied their abilities for whatever came next.
And in the center of it all, Landon felt the weight of leadership settling on his shoulders like a mantle he'd never asked for but couldn't afford to refuse. His digital message had done more than start a riot—it had declared war.
No going back now.
The flames around his hands burned brighter as he prepared to defend the revolution he'd accidentally created. Whatever came next, at least he wouldn't face it alone.
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
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