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I didn't stop running until the cold, damp air of the Pine Valley forest stung my lungs and the manicured lawns of the campus were far behind me. I collapsed against the rough bark of a towering pine, gasping, my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. The memory of two hundred stunned faces, the blaring lights, the dead phones, and Yuki's frozen, mid-note expression played on a loop behind my eyes.
I had become a public spectacle. A sideshow freak. The guy who bluescreened the cafeteria with his social anxiety.
I yanked the tiny, oppressive earpiece out and stared at it, lying innocently in my palm. This little piece of tech was the leash they had me on. With a surge of furious, helpless energy, I drew my arm back to hurl it into the woods.
"Tsk, tsk. That's club property, you know."
The voice came from behind a nearby tree. Lexi stepped out, looking utterly unruffled. He'd changed out of his runway-ready cafeteria outfit and back into a practical, dark tracksuit. In his hand was a tablet, the screen glowing with a complex waveform that I knew, with sickening certainty, was a graphical representation of my emotional meltdown.
"Stay away from me," I snarled, my voice shaking. I closed my fist around the earpiece.
He ignored me, his eyes on the tablet. "Fascinating. The energy spike registered a 9.1 on the Vance Scale. Your previous high was a 7.8 under direct, fear-based stimulus. It seems intense social embarrassment is a more potent catalyst than primal terror. Who knew?" He looked up, a genuine, unnerving spark of scientific curiosity in his eyes. "How did it feel? At the moment of emission. Was it a conscious act? A release of pressure?"
"How did it feel?" I choked out. "It felt like I wanted to die! You… you set that whole thing up! You put me in the middle of that… that stage!"
"Of course I did," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Controlled environments only teach us so much. True potential is revealed under real-world pressure. And you, Alex, were magnificent." He took a step closer, his gaze intense. "You didn't lose control. You exerted it. You broadcast a localized EMP because your brain couldn't process the social overload. That's not a malfunction. That's a feature."
His words were like ice water. A feature. He saw the worst, most humiliating moment of my life as a successful software update.
Before I could form a coherent response, the undergrowth rustled and Yuki burst into the small clearing. His face was flushed, his scruffy blonde hair was a mess, and his eyes were wide with a mixture of panic and exhilaration.
"Alex! You ran away so fast! That was amazing! Your aura just went BOOM!" He threw his arms wide for emphasis. "I didn't even get to finish my song! It was a really good one, about a lonely star finding its constellation!" He bounded over to me, his previous shock completely replaced by adoring wonder. "You're like a superhero! The Cafeteria Crusher! We should test it again! Maybe at a football game!"
I stared at him, speechless. He was completely oblivious to the soul-crushing horror of it all. To him, it was just another exciting, supernatural phenomenon. One that happened to be centered on me.
"Yuki, now is not the time for further field tests," a calm, authoritative voice stated.
Sage emerged from the tree line, his tall frame moving silently through the forest. He looked… displeased. His rust-red eyes were narrowed, first at Lexi, then at Yuki, before finally settling on me. His gaze was a physical weight, assessing, cataloging my distress.
"Alex is in distress," Sage stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. "The experiment is concluded. The data is gathered. Now, he needs to decompress."
He walked straight towards me, completely ignoring the other two. He stopped in front of me, his presence immediately creating a bubble of quiet authority around us.
"Give me the earpiece, Alex," he said, his voice soft but firm. He held out his hand.
I hesitated, my fist still clenched around it. It was a symbol of everything wrong with my life, but relinquishing it felt like a surrender.
Sage didn't force it. He simply waited, his hand outstretched, his expression one of patient, unwavering certainty. "You don't need this right now. You need quiet."
Something in me broke. The anger, the embarrassment, the fear—it all crumbled under the sheer, overwhelming force of his care. My hand trembled as I uncurled my fingers and dropped the tiny device into his waiting palm. He pocketed it without a word.
"Hey! That was my monitoring station!" Lexi protested.
"It's been decommissioned," Sage said without looking back. His eyes were still locked on me. "You've pushed your subject to his limit for today. My priority is his well-being." He placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch both grounding and possessive. "Come on. I'm taking you back to the clubroom. No tests. No questions. You're going to sit on the couch, and I'm going to make you a proper cup of tea."
It wasn't an offer. It was a decree. And in my shattered state, it was the most tempting thing I had ever heard. A ceasefire. A sanctuary.
Lexi scowled, crossing his arms. "This is a critical juncture! We need to debrief while the memory is fresh!"
"Yeah! We have to plan the next—" Yuki started.
"Enough," Sage said, and the single word carried a finality that silenced them both. He began to guide me away from the clearing, back towards campus, his hand a steady, inescapable pressure on my back.
I glanced back once. Lexi was watching us go, his expression not angry, but thoughtfully calculating, already plotting the next round. Yuki just looked disappointed he couldn't provoke another light show.
I had escaped the public humiliation, but I was just being transferred to a new, private form of custody. Sage's protection felt like a gilded cage, and I was willingly walking back into it. The aftermath of my power surge wasn't freedom. It was just a change of management.
The walk back to the P.V.S.C. clubroom was conducted in a silence so profound it felt like a physical entity. Sage's hand remained on my back, not pushing, but guiding—a steady, inescapable pressure that felt both comforting and confining. He didn't speak, and for that, I was pathetically grateful. My mind was a tangled mess of humiliation, fear, and the lingering, terrifying echo of that power surge.
The clubroom door clicked shut behind us, sealing us in our familiar world of organized chaos. The scent of old books, coffee, and ozone was suddenly a relief after the sterile, judging air of the cafeteria.
"Sit," Sage commanded softly, gesturing to the worn leather couch tucked in the corner. It was the one piece of furniture not covered in wires or ancient texts. It was, I realized, his spot.
I sank into it, the leather cool against my skin. I expected him to immediately start fussing, but he didn't. He moved to the small kitchenette, his movements efficient and silent. He filled a kettle, selected a ceramic teapot, and began measuring loose-leaf tea from a tin. The simple, domestic ritual was hypnotic. It was the most normal thing I'd witnessed all day.
Lexi and Yuki slipped into the room a moment later. Lexi went straight to his main computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard, pulling up the data from the cafeteria. Yuki hovered near the door, uncharacteristically quiet, watching me with big, worried eyes.
"Are you mad at me, Senpai?" he finally whispered, his voice small. "I just wanted to cheer you up. I didn't mean to make your aura go... kablooey."
I looked at him, at his genuine distress, and found I didn't have the energy to be angry. "I'm not mad, Yuki," I sighed, leaning my head back against the couch. "I just... I need a minute where the entire world isn't watching me."
He brightened immediately. "Okay! I can do quiet! I'll be super quiet!" He mimed zipping his lips and sat cross-legged on the floor, pulling out his phone and putting on headphones, though I could see him sneaking glances at me every few seconds.
The kettle whistled. Sage poured the steaming water over the leaves, the rich, earthy scent of chamomile and lavender filling the air. He let it steep for exactly three minutes before carrying the teapot and a single mug over to the coffee table in front of me. He poured a cup, the dark amber liquid swirling, and placed it before me.
"Drink," he said. "It will help with the adrenaline crash."
I took the mug. The heat seeped into my hands, a small, tangible comfort. I took a sip. It was perfect. Soothing, not too bitter, with a hint of honey. Of course it was.
Sage didn't sit. He stood over me, a tall, silent guardian, his arms crossed. His gaze was heavy, analytical, but in a different way from Lexi's. Lexi dissected my power. Sage was dissecting me.
"The emission was a stress response," Sage stated, his voice low, meant for my ears, but carrying easily in the quiet room. "But not a destructive one. You didn't harm anyone. You didn't damage the infrastructure. You simply... reset the ambient electronic field. A defensive measure, on an instinctual level."
From his computer station, Lexi snorted. "A 'defensive measure'? Sage, he generated a localized electromagnetic pulse strong enough to brick every cell phone in a hundred-foot radius because he was embarrassed! This isn't a fight-or-flight response; it's a whole new classification of psychic ability! We're going to need to recalibrate all the sensors. The energy signature has a unique harmonic I've never seen before."
He swiveled in his chair, his eyes alight with a feverish excitement. "Don't you see what this means, Alex? Your power isn't just passive absorption. It's reactive! It adapts to your emotional state and manifests in a way that directly addresses the source of your distress! Social overwhelm? It creates a digital quiet zone. It's brilliant!"
I stared into my tea. Brilliant. He made it sound like I'd invented a new app, not publicly short-circuited a building.
"And what happens when he gets angry?" Sage's voice was deceptively calm. "Or truly, deeply sad? If embarrassment can cause this, what would a more potent emotion unleash? Your thirst for data could create a situation we cannot control."
The room went quiet again. Even Lexi seemed to consider this. The unspoken question hung in the air, thick and ominous. What was my upper limit?
"I can help with that!"
All of us turned to look at Yuki, who had taken his headphones off. He scrambled to his feet, his face lit up with a new idea.
"If big emotions make big powers, then we just have to make sure Alex only has small, happy emotions! Or, like, really good big emotions!" He bounded over to the couch, plopping down next to me, making the springs creak. "We'll be his emotional managers! I'll be in charge of fun and cuddles! Sage, you can be in charge of... of cozy and safe feelings! And Lexi, you can be in charge of making him feel smart and important!"
He looked immensely proud of his solution. The sheer, terrifying simplicity of it was breathtaking. They weren't just going to study my powers; they were going to curate my emotional life to control them.
Sage was looking at Yuki, a thoughtful expression on his face. "There is... a certain logic to it," he murmured. "A stable emotional environment would be the safest way to facilitate his control."
Lexi's smirk returned, sharper than ever. "Emotional management. I like it. It introduces a new set of variables. We can map specific positive stimuli to aura stability. It's no longer just about testing limits. It's about... optimization."
They were all looking at me now, a unified front once more. Their conflict had been temporary. Their obsession was permanent. I was no longer just a subject or a battery. I was a garden, and they had just decided they were my gardeners.
Yuki beamed and snuggled closer to me on the couch, resting his head on my shoulder. "See, Alex? We'll take such good care of you. You'll never have to feel icky, overwhelming feelings ever again."
Sage finally sat down on my other side, the couch dipping under his weight. He didn't touch me, but his presence was a wall, blocking any thought of escape. "We'll proceed slowly," he said, his voice a soft vow. "Your well-being is the priority."
Lexi stood, grabbing his tablet and walking over to stand in front of us. He looked down at the three of us on the couch—Yuki clinging to my arm, Sage a bastion on my other side, and me trapped in the middle.
"A new directive," Lexi announced, his eyes fixed on me. "Operation: Emotional Stability begins now. Your training, Alex, is no longer just about understanding your power. It's about mastering your heart. And we," he said, his smirk deepening as his gaze swept over his two clubmates, "are your personal trainers."
I took a long, slow sip of my tea. The warmth did nothing to fight the cold certainty settling in my soul. The aftermath of my power surge hadn't brought freedom or even a reprimand. It had resulted in a promotion. I was now the full-time, live-in project of the Pine Valley Supernatural Club.
And as Yuki's head grew heavier on my shoulder and Sage's protective energy wrapped around me like a blanket, the most horrifying thought of all whispered in the back of my mind.
A part of me… was starting to find the cage comfortable.
I took a long, slow sip of my tea. The warmth was a small comfort, but it did little to dissolve the cold knot of frustration in my chest. The silence in the room was heavy, charged with their collective focus. It was a weight I was getting sick of carrying.
Yuki's head was still on my shoulder, Sage was a solid, immovable presence on my other side, and Lexi stood over us like a proud, if slightly unhinged, sculptor surveying his latest work. They were a unit, and I was the project they had unanimously adopted.
"Alright," Lexi said, breaking the silence and tapping his tablet. "The preliminary framework for Operation: Emotional Stability is drafted. We'll begin implementation tomorrow with low-impact, positive reinforcement exercises. Sage, you'll handle the environmental conditioning. Yuki, you're on morale. I'll oversee data correlation and... advanced stimulus calibration."
Yuki squeezed my arm. "This is gonna be so fun, Alex! We'll play games and watch movies and I'll make you all my favorite snacks!"
Sage gave a slow, approving nod. "A structured routine will provide the stability you need to build a foundation of control. You have nothing to fear."
That was the final straw. The sheer, overwhelming presumption of it all. They were scheduling my happiness. They were programming my peace of mind like it was just another variable to be optimized.
I carefully, but firmly, shrugged Yuki's head off my shoulder and placed the half-finished mug of tea on the coffee table with a definitive clink. The sound was small, but it echoed in the quiet room. All three of them looked at me, their expressions shifting from planning to surprise.
"Wait a minute," I said, my voice firmer than I felt. "Did anyone ask me about this? I don't remember agreeing to 'Operation: Emotional Stability'."
Lexi waved a dismissive hand, not even looking up from his tablet. "Your agreement is implied by your continued presence, Subject Alex. The data necessitates this course of action."
"Don't call me that," I shot back. "And it's not implied. I'm telling you right now, I don't want this. I don't need you guys micromanaging my feelings."
Yuki pouted, grabbing my arm again. "But we're just trying to help you, Senpai! You'll feel so much better when you're not all stressed out!"
I tried to pull my arm away, but he clung with a surprising strength. "Yuki, let go. This isn't helping."
"It's for your own good, Alex," Sage said, his voice that infuriatingly calm, reasonable tone. He placed a hand on my knee, a heavy, grounding weight that felt more like a shackle. "You've seen what happens when you're overwhelmed. This structure is for your protection as much as for our research."
"I don't care!" I insisted, my voice rising. The hum in my bones was starting to sharpen in response to my frustration. The lamp on the desk flickered. "I'm not a lab rat! You can't just decide what's best for me without even listening to me!"
"We are listening," Lexi said, finally looking at me. His gaze was cool, analytical. "We're listening to what your energy signature is telling us. And it's screaming for regulation. Your subjective discomfort is a necessary part of the process." He turned back to his tablet. "The schedule stands. We begin at 0800 tomorrow with guided meditation led by Sage."
I stared at them, a cold realization washing over me. My words were just background noise to them. My protests were irrelevant data points, less important than the flickering of a lightbulb. They were so utterly convinced of their right to manage my life that my objections didn't even register.
I stood up, forcing Yuki to release my arm and making Sage's hand fall from my knee. "This is insane. I'm leaving."
"Of course," Sage said, standing as well. "I'll walk you to your dorm. It's getting dark, and your elevated stress levels might attract unwanted attention." He said it with such genuine concern, as if he weren't the primary source of my stress.
"I don't need an escort!" I snapped.
"It's not a request, Alex," he replied, his voice soft but leaving no room for argument. He was already holding the door open for me.
I looked at Lexi, who was engrossed in his data. I looked at Yuki, who was already pulling out his phone, probably to make a shopping list for "morale" snacks. My protest had changed nothing. It had been noted, filed away, and completely ignored.
Defeated, I walked towards the door. Sage fell into step beside me, his presence a silent, inescapable reminder that my autonomy was an illusion they tolerated only when it suited them.
As we stepped out into the hallway, the hum in my bones felt heavier than ever. It wasn't just a power or a curse. It was the chains that bound me to them. And no matter how much I protested, they held the keys.
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To Be Continue...