Protests have turned to riots as powered individuals used their powers for violence. The United States government intervened and the death toll is in the hundreds. More bodies are being discovered in the remains of New York City daily. The United States military has abandoned all foreign territory, focusing on the war at home. Meanwhile, terrorist factions have risen to power throughout the globe, responding to the violence in the Americas. Many governments are calling for internment camps for any powered people. While some small countries have managed to pull this off, the problem is too widespread in larger countries. Therefore, the military has been authorized to use lethal force to end violent protests. – Kaitlyn Quinn, 199 Anno Imperi Ortu

Ducking my head, I try to stay hidden among the shadows. I feel the ground violently shaking beneath my feet. I’m trying to control the sudden outburst of energy, but I can’t focus enough. The school creaks around me as I try to navigate to the exit.

“Carson,” an unfamiliar voice calls. I feel a hand clamp around my shoulder. Frustrated, I turn to face my assailant. Staggering backward, he holds his hands over his head.

“Who are you?” I snap as I turn around. The lockers rattle and the hall darkens as glass continues to rain from the ceiling. I know there’s no concealing my power from the scrawny boy before me. Who am I kidding? There’s no concealing it from anyone. I can’t escape this.

“Fillion Harris,” he yells. Apparently, the pure energy swirling around me is producing a wind tunnel, making it difficult to hear. “Class II Intellect. I have something that can help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” I decline. After everything, I don’t think I’m going to be trusting strangers any time soon. Backing away, I try to put distance between myself and the person I now consider a threat.

“It’s a power dampener,” he explains. “I created it when I saw your performance at Recruitment. I thought it may help you control yourself.”

“A power dampener?” I scoff. I don’t know if the flurry of emotions building up within me are making me irrational, but I don’t want to take the risk of using such an invention. The Council already tried something similar, and I know I don’t want to go back to being powerless. “Just get out of my way, I need to be alone.”

“Carson, I can’t do that,” he responds firmly. I’m impressed, despite my display of uncontrolled power, he is willing to risk himself. Suddenly, it dawns on me. Class II. Fillion wants to appear heroic. He doesn’t care about me or even saving the school – he just wants to impress the Council. Frustrated, I flick my hand, launching him toward the wall. Fillion grunts as he collides with the lockers and slides to the ground, dazed.

Increasing my pace, I storm toward the doorway. I know I’m not thinking clearly, but any thoughts only serve to feed my spiraling attitude. I have to find somewhere I can cool off alone. My escape is in sight, but I feel my concern mounting. Have I ruined my future? If I get caught, I’m bound to lose my power. The Council won’t leave anything to chance the second time.

I stop, allowing myself to catch my breath. Fillion had seen my power, but I know I can find a plan. I’ve always managed to think my way through difficult situations. That doesn’t have to change simply because I now have a power.

I don’t have to be ruled by my emotion. Closing my eyes, I breathe slowly. My racing mind slows to a walk, accepting the pace I set. Toxic thoughts drain away as their power is taken from them. I can control this power. I will prove the Council wrong.

As I open my eyes, I feel the energy swelling within me begin to subside. The clanging of metal quiets as the lockers settle, no longer disrupted by my power. I breathe heavily, exhausted by my unintentional display of force. I had overreacted; I can see that. I don’t have to process the world around me this way.

The wind tunnel in the hallway fades away, leaving me in a dark and silent corridor. I did it. I controlled my power. I can’t help but smile as I look around, finding myself alone to celebrate.

“Carson,” Fillion groans, turning the corner and staggering toward me. In his left hand, he holds a gun of some kind. It looks almost like an applicator for microchips. If I’m right, his goal is to find a way to attach it to me and inhibit my brain’s capability to utilize its power. I’m not sure how exactly he pieced together my power. Fillion hadn’t seen my performance in Round 1 or in the Battle tryouts. Actually, he wouldn’t have been in my group for Round 2 either, because I tested with the Shifters.

“What is it, Fillion?” I ask, turning on my heel. With my mind clear, I feel more prepared to confront him. All he wants is a place on the Council, but he won’t get it if he obtained his information illegally. He’s smarter than I am, but I know first-hand how easy it is to make a mistake while distracted.

“I’ve never seen a power so strong,” he stammers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shrug.

“Don’t play dumb, you can’t avoid the truth. I watched you,” he accuses.

“What’s in your hand?” I ask.

“I told you, it’s a power dampener,” he repeats. “It was meant to help you.”

“Why would you think I needed help?”

“I saw your power,” he reiterates.

“When?”

“Recruitment.”

“That’s a nice story, but we both know it’s false. You would have been at your own tests, and it’s forbidden to watch other students’ testing.”

“You won’t trick me into admitting anything,” he shuts down. I suppose I’m not quite as clever as I thought I was. Silently scolding myself, I back off and search for another approach. Clearly, Fillion is aware of my power. If he informs the Council, they’ll try to take it from me again. I have to find a way to keep him quiet. I decide to take a risk and make a logical guess.

“I don’t need you to admit it, I already know. It’s obvious. You hacked the video feed and watched Recruitment from a concealed screen in your glasses.”

His eyes widen as I speak, granting me the confidence to narrow my accusation. I keep my relief concealed as he begins to crumble.

“They already know,” he sighs. “Carson, they caught me. I was threatened with punishment, but if this works…”

“They know,’ I mutter, reaching my own conclusion before he manages to confess. The only reason the Council would neglect to punish him for hacking into their software is because they think he’s useful to them. “They commissioned this?”

“I didn’t know anything, really. I didn’t know your power or even that this was for you. I put it together when the lights went out and I saw you storming away. Look, we can help each other, Carson. If this works, you’ll be able to control yourself.”

“What if I can’t?” I ask. The question stems from curiosity rather than self-pity. I wonder just how much the Council has told Fillion. Is he aware of Protocol Omega? That seems to be a secret the Council would hold dearly; they wouldn’t simply grant such classified information to a commissioned designer.

“I don’t know their plans. All they said is they need this. If it works, maybe they’ll give me a spot on the Council. I can help you then, Carson. There is no downside to this,” he stammers. Fear creeps into his voice. Is Fillion afraid of the Council? No, I don’t think that’s it. He’s a criminal, and he knows he’s broken the law. He’s merely afraid of the consequences. Maybe he’s afraid of me realizing he’s trying to manipulate me.

“How does it work?” I ask, stalling for time as I try to find a way keep him quiet. Of course, that doesn’t matter if the Council already knows about my power, but maybe this was commissioned before they tried to remove it. Maybe they don’t know they failed yet.

“It blocks neurotransmitters. Only specific ones, associated with the usage of powers.”

“What makes you so sure that would work without adverse effects?”

“Testing it on myself, I was able to see that a certain part of my brain reacted when I used my power.”

“You’re a quick thinker, Fillion, I’ll give you that,” I admit. I glance over my shoulder, verifying the emptiness of the room. The desperation in his voice reminds me of myself, and I want to help him. Regardless, I don’t trust him. I consider taking a page from the book of Fenrir – convincing him to risk something valuable of his own before I accept to try his device.

Even that would fail to address my concern, though. I have no doubt he’d be willing to die for the Council if it were requested of him. No, I have to be cold. The functionality of this neurotransmitter blocker is questionable at best, and I refuse to fall for a trap. I can handle the power on my own – I don’t need it dampened.

With a sigh, I shake my head and back away. I have to escape. I might have to surrender in my attempts to keep him quiet because I refuse to allow him to test his device. My mind races as I try to decide my best course of action. If the Council doesn’t know yet, I can’t just walk away. If they do, this is all a moot point.

Freezing in place, I try to look menacing as my gaze hardens. I take one long breath, steeling myself. My only option is to threaten him. I don’t want to resort to violence, but I have no other options.

“Valiant effort, Mr. Harris,” a voice interrupts before I’m able to muster the courage speak. Recognizing the voice, I feel my body tense with fear. This is far worse than one stray student being aware of my power. I turn over my shoulder slowly and see Derrick Levine, the Council Somatic, standing intimidatingly in the doorway. Towering over me at nearly seven feet tall and consisting solely of muscle mass, Derrick is the epitome of a Brawn. His Class I status, though, comes from the fact that he’s faster than any Brawn – or even any human. While not quite at the speed of a decent Runner, he’s still a blend of what it means to be a Somatic.

“Councilman,” I greet, hoping against all logic that Derrick had somehow missed the events leading up to that moment. As cavalier as possible, I turn and nod toward him, offering a more personal greeting while also keeping Fillion in my line of sight.

“You know, I told them it wasn’t possible,” he scoffs quietly. Fillion sighs and seems offended, but I know he isn’t talking about his invention at all. He is speaking surprisingly openly about their attempts to negate my powers. Perhaps he’s just aware that as long as he doesn’t directly mention it, Fillion likely won’t piece anything together. Since the general public doesn’t know the serum exists, it’s difficult for even an Intellect to fathom.

Of course, I could try to explain the situation. Right in front of Derrick, I could tell Fillion that his Council was lying to him. The best-case scenario is he believes me and somehow manages to attach his power blocker device to Derrick, granting me a modicum of hope of escape. Worst case, and far more likely, he doesn’t believe me and I play my hand far too early.

“I wouldn’t underestimate your Intellects,” I shrug. I know Protocol Omega is effective. I don’t know how exactly, but I could feel it spreading. When it was injected into my bloodstream, I could feel my power slowly fading away. I only managed to save myself because my power allowed me to pull the serum from my bloodstream.

“Krista can get a hyperfocused,” Derrick surmised. “Sometimes, her inventions suffer when she can’t see the big picture.”

I’ve never seen infighting between Council members before, but I suppose they’re all human. Perhaps they don’t get along as well as the community expects. Still, I’m surprised to see Derrick insult Krista in public. I try to avoid displaying any confusion. I have to play the right cards here. I have no idea what the Council is planning for me, but I don’t have the trust I once did for them. As Derrick approaches, slowly as if he thinks I’m not noticing, I realize something. I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the Council.

“Well, it worked this time,” I lie, desperately clinging to any minute hope. There isn’t an easy way out of this.

“I wish I could believe you, Carson. Dante advocated for leniency. Sentimental old fool. I told him this would happen.”

“What?” I cough.

“You’re afraid. Wounded. Now your power is even more of a threat than it was, and you’ve lost your faith in us. We only ever tried to protect you,” he lies. Something sinister in his voice makes his intentions far too obvious. He may not speak for the entire Council, but I was never Derrick’s top priority.

He’s getting uncomfortably close. I’m not sure what his plan is, but I don’t like it. I hope Derrick wouldn’t senselessly beat a student in the middle of the halls of the school, but I can’t put anything past him. He had a reputation of being a bit hot-headed, and he definitely isn’t the brains of the Council. Backing away, I try to put distance between us. Suddenly, I realize that Fillion is still behind me. Derrick is pushing me toward Fillion – and his power inhibitor. I can’t let him get in range. I’ve already underestimated the Council again. Derrick is aware of my power, so he’s trying create a plan. Maybe I can use that to my advantage.

“Stay back,” I order shakily. I don’t care how powerful I am, I’m in no place to be giving the Council orders. Still, I don’t see another way out. If I can make him feel threatened, I may be able to get past Derrick.

Of course, I have no idea what life will entail after that. I can’t last long as a fugitive from the Council, and there’s nowhere I can flee where they don’t have eyes. Even if I am able to escape the school, I’ll be living on borrowed time.

I can’t think about that now. I have to stay confident and stand my ground. Living in the moment is the only way I’ll be focused enough to escape this unexpected team of brain and brawn.

“Oh, now you’re threatening a Council member?” Derrick scoffs, stepping forward more noticeably. That plan backfired. I hold my hand toward him, committing entirely to my desperate attempt. Cocking his head, he sarcastically says, “I thought your medicine was effective.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” I choke.

Derrick laughs menacingly. Pulling his arm back, he telegraphs his attack. Despite knowing exactly where the attack will land, I know he’s too fast to dodge. Instead, I stand my ground. His massive fist plows forward and I devote all of my energy to stopping it. He slows significantly, but easily breaks my hold, driving a fist into my stomach. I fall backward, crashing to the ground and coughing up blood.

“How are you on the Council?” I cough as he steps toward me. If there had been any psychological evaluation – or any assessment at all – this brute should not have passed. I failed the examination to be a Peacekeeper and somehow this savage with murder in his eyes is a Councilman.

“Dissenting viewpoints in leadership is important,” he explains. As he does, he kicks his foot forward. I’m able to absorb most of the force of the attack with a telekinetic barrier, but his attack still connects and launches me toward the wall. I feel the tiles crack beneath me and I slide to the floor. Physically, my body is devastated. Mentally, I’m worn out from over-exertion. I shouldn’t have tried to stand up to a member of the Council, but I was cornered.

“You see, Dante wanted to train you,” he explains. My mind is reeling as I try to determine whether he’s lying to taunt me. “I told him you had to die. We settled in the middle. Thank you for proving me right.”

“Woah, you didn’t say anything about that,” Fillion stammers.

“Trust the will of your Council, Fillion. You’ll understand if you have to make decisions like this.”

I see Fillion nod enthusiastically. For a moment, he questioned his leadership. I could have utilized that, but I can’t bring myself to speak. I’ve already been defeated and humiliated. There was no other possible outcome.

No, there was. There is. I am a Class I. I struggle to my feet and Derrick laughs maniacally. Maybe his thoughts don’t align perfectly with the Council, but he represents them. They chose him, and that means something. I can’t trust them.

Derrick rears back for another punch. I know I can’t stop his brute force head-on. I shouldn’t have tried to out-muscle a Brawn. As he throws his punch, I redirect my telekinetic blast. His hand veers slightly off course, driving into the wall and leaving a gaping hole.

I lunge to the side. I wait for him to be unbalanced as he walks toward me. When one foot is of the floor, I sweep a blast under the other. He stumbles, grunts, and recovers. He tries to attack me again, but I’m able to direct him into another wall. Cracks begin spreading through the walls around me.

As he punches again, I push his arm above me. Ducking down, I drive my fist into his stomach. Feeling as though I’d punched a brick wall, I pull my hand back and shake it vigorously. Using my momentary lapse, he slaps me, knocking me to the ground. I roll away, but he’s faster than me. Quickly, he steps forward and places his foot firmly on my chest. Using all of the energy I can muster, I push him back. He stumbles just long enough for me to escape and rise to my feet. Standing near the doorway, I think I can almost manage to run. With his super speed, though, I know he’ll catch me.

I redirect another of his attacks, narrowly avoiding taking damage. His arm, up to his elbow, lodges in the wall. I spin around him, running back into the hallway. Maybe I can lose him in the maze of corridors. Whispers echo through the halls, and I see people clamoring out of classrooms. Even if I die here, the Council won’t be able to conceal this blatant act of corruption. Maybe Dante will address it, restoring balance to their fractured leadership. At least something good will come of my death. Distracted, I don’t notice Fillion until it’s too late. He jumps from one of the rooms and stabs something into the back of my neck.

I yelp and pause, clawing at my neck. In my second of hesitation, Derrick catches up. I drop to the ground, hoping to trip him over my body. I surround myself with a shield of energy, but the impact as he runs into me still knocks the air from my lungs. I stumble to my feet, backing away.

My mind is growing foggy. I don’t know what Fillion had invented, but it is clearly blocking my ability to think clearly. If I allow it the time to take effect, it may nullify my power. With how disoriented I feel already, I think it may nullify my capacity for rational thought at all. I don’t have much time; I have to get away quickly.

Derrick is already on his feet. The door is only a few feet behind me. Somehow, I have to stall him, but I don’t have a lot of options. Glancing back, I see cracks resonating throughout the drywall near the door. Derrick has damaged the structural integrity. I only have possibility for escape.

I turn and run, throwing myself through the glass door, but Derrick is close on my heels. My energy is fading fast, so I have to channel everything I have left into one massive surge. Targeting the weak points he’d created, I send a wave of energy at the doorframe. The walls break down, dropping part of the ceiling on the school and burying Derrick in the debris. I know that won’t hold him back for long, so I have to put distance between myself and the school.

Scratching desperately, I find a bump on the back of my neck. I can’t summon my power anymore, so I scratch at the chip until I break the skin. Pulling it loose, I toss it on the ground and step on it. The pain and over-exertion are taking their toll, and my vision grows blurry.

Stumbling away, I search my mind for any place of refuge. The Council has eyes everywhere, but there has to be somewhere they aren’t watching. Every camera on the street seems to glare at me, so I hide in alleys. Navigating through the dark recesses of the Industrial District, I find my way to a building still under construction. If memory serves, construction was paused to focus on more pressing matters. For the time being, this will have to do. I stumble through the openings between the wooden studs and look around me. Most of the walls of the first floor are finished, but there are still a few exposed studs and girders. This will offer shelter, but I have to be careful to avoid the openings. Searching the area, I see two distinct openings in the ground. I blink rapidly until the two meld into one, then I stagger toward it. A creaky stairway leads me to the basement, which is absolutely devoid of light, and I fall to the floor.

I hope Dante will understand that I only did what had to be done. Desperately, I search for some way to explain myself. Not only that, I try to justify the actions of the Council. I don’t want to lose faith in the leadership I’ve trusted my entire life, but they’re becoming increasingly difficult to defend.

I want to wake up in my bed and feel normal again. Even if that means being Powerless. Something tells me that this has already gone too far. If I ever want to have a chance to live again, something has to change. Someone has to address the Council’s corruption and root out the people who don’t deserve to be there. Someone is going to have to change the world. Until they do, I will hide in the dark basement of a delayed construction site.