"Sorry to spring this on you, but…" Nate hesitated, lowering his voice as his eyes flicked briefly toward one of the watchtowers. "…what can you do?"
He nodded toward the white armband on Kaine's arm, the purple F standing out like a brand. "With that on you, you won't be treated kindly. And I can't protect everyone."
Protect everyone?Kaine's gaze lingered on Nate for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. So that's your role. Big-brother instincts. The kind that got people hurt, but also the kind that held groups together long enough to matter. Useful.
"Well," Kaine replied mildly, as if they were discussing the weather, "it's nothing special, but… There are nine guard towers, at least eleven rotating guard shifts, and more than twenty guards watching every section at all moments."
Nate stopped walking.
He turned slowly, eyebrows lifting, his earlier worry replaced by something sharper. "You counted all that already?"
At the same time, Kaine felt it—that faint pressure at the base of his skull. Spider-Sense, low-level but persistent. Not a threat. An anomaly. Something right in front of him that didn't align with baseline assumptions.
Nate was staring at him differently now.
Not with fear.
With focus.
Kaine met his gaze evenly, red eyes unblinking. He recognized the look instantly—not as a threat, but as a scan. A presence brushing against the edges of his mind, subtle and probing. Psionic. Not aggressive, but curious. Testing depth. Measuring distance.
Knew it, Kaine thought. Psionic capacity. High ceiling.
Nate seemed to realize he'd lingered too long. He blinked, shook his head slightly, and exhaled in relief. "Okay… that's good. That's actually really good."
He smiled again, a little more strained this time. "Your observation skills are strong. I'm glad. Because I could really use someone with a brain around here." He winced. "Oh—sorry. Not to lump you in with me like that, but personally? I'm the nicest one here. Sadly."
Kaine filed the information away along with the name. Nate Gray wasn't just powerful—being near him made Kaine's senses hum, like standing beside a live wire. Raw potential, poorly refined, but immense. All it would take was structure. Direction.
Guidance.
"Oh, no worries," Kaine said calmly. "You seem kind."
Nate's shoulders relaxed at that, just a bit.
Still, Kaine noted the discrepancy. Gray, not Grey. The name didn't align with anyone he knew. Another reminder that this wasn't his universe. Parallel evolution. Divergent constants.
Nate suddenly paused, eyes widening slightly. "Oh—wait. I forgot something."
Before Kaine could respond, Nate turned and jogged off, calling over his shoulder, "Stay here!"
Kaine didn't answer. He was already elsewhere—inside his own calculations.
What abilities should I show? he wondered. He had dozens at his disposal: wall-crawling, enhanced reflexes, strength that defied easy measurement, lethal combat efficiency refined through years of survival. But power displayed was power evaluated. And enemies are always prepared for what they could see.
Let them underestimate you.
A foundational tactic, Sun Tzu, I'll honour you still.
Physicality and combat proficiency, he decided. Nothing exotic. Nothing that suggests scale.
He was still refining the thought when Nate returned, flanked by two others.
"Okay, guys," Nate said quickly, gesturing between them, "so I actually found someone who's not desperately stuck on resistance. This is Kaine."
Kaine turned his attention to the newcomers.
"This is Roberto—Bobby, as we call him—and Sam."
Roberto stood with a relaxed confidence that barely masked contained heat. Black hair, olive skin, and eyes that glowed faintly as embers banked under ash. Thermal mutation. Internal energy generation, most likely. High-output, emotionally reactive.
Potentially volatile.
Sam, by contrast, was slender, pale, with clear blue eyes that missed nothing. His posture was careful, deliberate, like someone used to measuring their own strength constantly. Defensive mutation, perhaps. Or something more subtle—probability manipulation, sensory distortion, or precision-based enhancement.
Kaine gave them both a brief nod.
"Pleasure," he said.
Behind his calm exterior, his mind was already assembling models.
Power. Control. Hierarchy.
This prison wasn't just a cage.
It was an ecosystem.
And ecosystems, Kaine knew better than anyone, could be optimized.
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[Auther: I forgot to post on Monday, so the previous chapter was just sitting there. I didn't post double, but feel free to think of it like that.]