Uniting behind their general, Dante Amar, Powered individuals have begun breaking out of Internment camps. The United States military has already been defeated by their assault. The president has issued formal requests for defense from every civilizated nation, gathering their forces in the United States. Both sides already report heavy casualties, and diplomacy is no longer considered by either side. For citizens caught in the midst of this war – take shelter and prepare. Don’t expect this to end soon. – Kaitlyn Quinn, 200 Anno Imperi Ortu

Standing on the unfinished balcony of the second story, I admire what has become of my base. With the help of Lukas and Jade, it has become a livable home. The building is completely closed-off from the outside world and the entrance is concealed within one of the walls. Hidden in plain sight, we have managed to create a veritable fortress.

Michael sits at a table in the middle of the room below me. Leaning over a map and examining sociopolitical data, he carefully pinpoints the most effective places to target. Since locating families without wealth isn’t an option – because the Council treats all professions equally – he has developed a few criteria. For the most part, recruitment is focused on locations or schools with a high concentration of lower classes.

As far as I know, the others are all at their respective schools or careers. Far from prepared for any type of recognition from the Council, I don’t want them drawing attention to us. As far as the outside world is concerned, everything has to appear normal for those in my group. If the Council had any reason to suspect their involvement with me, they’d surely be questioned. After what I’ve seen the Council do, I’m not sure what lengths they’d take to get their answers.

Jumping from the balcony, I monitor my descent and land carefully on the ground. I’m still not sure if my speech had had much of an effect on the world around me. Of course, it isn’t being reported in the news, but Alexis mentioned a few of the drones talking about the unfairness of their roles. Whether that has anything to do with me or not doesn’t matter – the only important thing is that people are beginning to question their leaders.

Michael is so entranced by his study he doesn’t notice me approach. Standing behind him, I place my hand on his shoulder and glance at the map. A few thumbtacks pierce the map with sticky notes adjacent to them. He’s scribbled something, but I can barely understand his handwriting.

“How’s it coming?” I ask, eager for my second public appearance. It may be the improvements to the base or the confidence I feel growing within, but I feel triumphant. I don’t want to hide anymore. Still, I understand the necessity to continue moving this operation forward slowly. Our four members have already made strides – and while I know more people means more strength, I also know it brings a higher likelihood of detection.

Still, after getting a taste of freedom, I’m having trouble spending days on end trapped inside this building. Writing can only occupy my mind for so much of the day, and Michael is handling all of the planning for our movement.

“I think we need to give it until the end of the week,” Michael replies, anticipating my true question. I just want to know how much longer it will be until I’m able to walk the streets once again.

“Are you sure?” I groan impatiently.

“Think of it this way – if we’re careful, it won’t be long before you’re able to roam around the city at will: a free man. Change takes sacrifice.”

“I know,” I agree, nodding solemnly. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Would it help if I explain the plan?”

“Sure, what do you have so far?”

“First, we target marginalized populations. Lower Classes are the prime example here, but certain careers – such as the drones – are also ideal. Our goal is to increase numbers – create a wave too large for the Council to quell.

“Jade, Alexis, Lukas, and I will spread the word quietly. We’ll point to your speech and use that to gauge responsiveness. Staying in the shadows, we’ll gather enough people to be heard.

“Next, we’ll hit the Council where it hurts. They claim to care about people, so we make them prove that. You can host a speech here, at the center of the farms. Many of the farmers are drones acting at the instruction of one Intellect. Phase two begins with the farmers on our side – we cut off their food supply. Until they grant us equality, we won’t feed them.”

“Diabolical,” I shrug. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Nothing is easy, of course, but it’s possible. We start small, with these three neighborhoods and possibly near the school. Teenagers are more impressionable, but they’re dripping with angst. We can use their rebellion for a good cause rather than letting them waste it on piercings.”

“Great, so when do I go there?” I press.

“A few days,” Michael asserts. “We need to allow more time for your words to sink in. The most important part isn’t what you’ve said, it’s how others will respond. It’s how people will react to hearing it secondhand. You see, when they get their news from other people rather than the media, their faith in the Council will already begin to falter. It will be increasingly clear something is being hidden from them. Your goal isn’t to convert people – it’s simply to prove that the Council has secrets. The citizens will demand answers on their own and they’ll unite behind you.”

“I suppose that’s a good point,” I admit. He’s clearly thought this through, and I don’t see a reason to argue with him. As Michael has said before, he’s the tactician. If I try to step onto his territory, I’ll only cause confusion.

Nodding, I step away and lean back. While I would prefer to keep moving, he’s right. I have to give people time to start questioning the Council. If I merely overwhelm them with an onslaught of accusations, they’ll grow defensive. Besides, too many appearances will offer them more chances to track me. Not only is Michael targeting specific locations, he’s creating a pattern which will not likely be traced to our location. Without him, I would be a visionary with no plan.

“Alright, I’ll trust you,” I accept, turning on my heel and leaving him to his work. Resolving to waste as little time as possible, I decide to continue training my power. I have to work on my acuity. I shouldn’t need to direct the energy with my hands and I don’t want to accept the physical limitations my telekinesis has already presented.

Most of our plan relies on my ability to speak and rally the public, but I also have to be able to defend my people and myself. Just because I am not going to war doesn’t mean I can neglect the possibility of confrontation. The PeaceKeepers have already been authorized to use lethal force, and they proved they were willing to shoot me. If I slack, I could get hurt. Worse, someone who trusts me could pay the price.

Telekinetically, I try to lift the rug which guards the secret entrance to my room downstairs. Firmly keeping my hands at my side, I stare at the rug. My brain hurts, aching as I try to exercise my power in a new way. Naturally, my hands begin to rise, but I grip my pants to keep them in place. The corners of the rug vibrate, but I can’t get it off the ground. Suddenly, as if a bomb exploded beneath it, the rug flies into the air and moves through the base. It almost rams into the wall, but I allow my hand to rise and catch it, keeping it hovering in the air. The pounding in my head subsides, even while I exert myself by holding the rug in place.

“Everything alright?” Michael asks, facing me and gripping his chair tightly. Taking deep breaths, he tries to calm himself down. Gently, I lower the rug back into place before responding.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I laugh. “I was trying something new.”

“Does it involve murdering people with rugs?”

“Hey, watch your tone. I may let you plan, but I’m still the leader around here.”

“Yes, sir,” he salutes, returning to work.

“I’m just kidding, Michael, you’re fine,” I console. He doesn’t reply, but I see a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

More carefully, I lift the rug into the air and hold it in place with one hand. With the other, I lift the trapdoor which blocks my room. Keeping them both steady, I walk downstairs. As I do, I slowly lower the trapdoor over me. Though I can no longer see the rug, I don’t hear it slam into the ground. Carefully, I lower it and set it down above me.

Turning my attention to my own space, I look around the well-lit room. No lights are flickering, and we’ve even installed a ceiling fan to keep the air circulating. Somehow, Lukas managed to procure a refrigerator, which now sits in one corner of my room. At the desk, I have a station set up for my writing, along with a few notebooks all partially full. Jade built a bed and set it up down here for me, claiming that in order to fight me at my best, she needed to make sure I had a good night’s sleep.

Hanging up on one of the walls, I still have the first tattered sheet I’d taken from a dumpster. Every time I question my resolve, I look at that piece of cloth. It wasn’t long ago that I was sleeping on the floor with torn, dirty sheets and scrounging for scraps. I had been living in isolation for fear for my life. Comparatively, I feel like a king. I have food, a bed, and four loyal followers. I can’t disappoint those people who have put their faith in me, so I know I have to keep getting stronger.

Turning my desk chair around, I sit in it and face the refrigerator. Telekinetically, I open the door and retrieve a few ingredients. I manage to make an entire turkey sandwich before my brain even begins to feel any ill effects. Nothing I’m lifting is particularly heavy, but I have learned to split my training into three focuses. First, I must increase the duration of consecutive power usage. Secondly, I can focus on weight. That will allow me to block punches from someone as strong as Derrick Levine – if it’s ever necessary again. Finally, I can think about weaning myself off of using my hands for guidance.

With the sandwich firmly secured in my physical hand and all of the ingredients put away, I allow myself to relax for a moment. My head doesn’t hurt, but there’s an undeniable pressure. I know I can push myself farther, but I want to train weight today, so I decide to allow myself to recover while I eat.

As I finish my sandwich, I rise and stretch, reaching my arms up. I turn the chair and push it back into the desk. Daily, I find myself dreading exercising my power. At best, it rivals an intense physical workout. At worst, I feel like my brain is falling apart. Regardless, I know it’s necessary.

Pointing my hands toward the refrigerator, I gently raise it into the air. Slowly, I set it down. I repeat this process a few times, each repetition slowly adding fatigue to my mind. After ten times, I set it down and exhale deeply, collapsing forward to catch my breath.

Minimizing my break time, I try again as soon as my mind recovers. This time, I’m able to lift the refrigerator fifteen times before my mind gives in. Massaging my temples, I try to force away the headache. Trying once again, I raise the refrigerator two feet off the ground. This time, I am going to focus on increased weight and sustaining that pressure. As soon as I have a comfortable hold on the refrigerator, I point my other hand at my bed, raising that from the ground as well. Grunting with effort, I release a telekinetic wave and lift it into the air, bringing the desk up with the rest of the furniture.

My head is pounding and for some reason, my eyes burn. Beads of sweat form on my forehead and trickle down my face, but I continue to hold the weight. I hear footsteps above me, but I try to tune them out as I lift the furniture higher. While I don’t think an extra foot increases the effect of gravity enough to alter my mental perception of its weight, it does offer me enough of a confidence boost to continue holding the furniture.

Rather than increasing, the pain seems to be static. Maybe I’ve reached my threshold, but I’m beginning to sweat more and feel the headache less.

“Carson, you might want to come up here,” Michael yells just loudly enough for me to hear. Startling me, he pulls my concentration from my task. The furniture drops three feet, landing on the ground with a crash. Frantically, I check the refrigerator. I can live without a desk or a bed, but preserved food is something I’ve learned to cherish. Everything seems to be in order, and the bed and desk survived the fall as well.

The shock seems to have overpowered any pain I was feeling, because the headache is already mostly gone. I feel a faint pressure in the back of my head, but otherwise it’s normal. Impressed with myself, I walk to the stairs. I push the rug up and feel an extra weight. As someone stumbles to the side, that weight is removed and the rug rises. Pushing open the trap door, I emerge from my room and replace the door and the rug.

When I offer my attention to the room around me, my jaw falls. I catch myself and adopt a confident smile, but I was not prepared for this. There are at least ten people surrounding me, most of whom I don’t recognize. Unprepared, I stumble over my words as I examine the new faces. No one seems surprised or threatened, so I don’t think they stumbled upon this place on accident. The came looking for me.

“Who wants to tell me why you’re all here?” I ask, standing tall and trying to appear powerful. I have to be the same person I was in the marketplace. With this many different personalities, I can’t afford the same colloquialism and friendliness I grant Michael. These people have come here searching for a leader, and that’s exactly what I intend to be.

“We’re here to kill the Council!” One of them cheers, pumping his fist into the air. I don’t know exactly how to respond, but I avoid displaying my shock on my face.

“Does he speak for all of you?” I ask.

“No, sir,” another stammers, stepping forward but refusing make eye contact with me. “I don’t want bloodshed, but something has to change.”

“I see. Alright, the rest of you, I want you to stand beside the person who speaks for you.”

“Wait,” a third newcomer speaks up.

“I don’t have time to wait,” I interrupt, adopting a masquerade. I can’t allow the mindset of the first speaker to fester for long, so it’s true that I don’t have time, but I’m not used to being so stern. Sheepishly, the third person retreats to stand by the docile one. Of the fifteen people in the room, only one other stands by the violent young man.

“Good,” I mutter. Telekinetically, I lift the two who called for death into their air. They both stammer, but I put just enough pressure on their throats to keep them silent. “Now, let this be a lesson to you all. We don’t kill. We are not here for war. We are not sparking a revolution. If you don’t see the use in reform, I don’t want you on my side. We will not be who they claim I am. Is that clear?”

All of the people before me nod. I release the two in the air, dropping them to the ground. One nods and retreats to the other group. The other scowls at me. I can’t help but wonder if I’m going to have another Jade on my hands. While her help has proven invaluable, I’m not sure how many loose cannons my organization can take.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I tell him. “If your goals don’t align with mine, you’re free to leave.”

“I know where your base is,” he growls.

“That is inconvenient, but it doesn’t justify murder,” I shrug. Michael narrows his eyes, clearly disagreeing with me, but he knows well enough to avoid contradicting me in public. Hesitantly, the young man on the ground climbs to his feet and trudges toward the rest of the group.

“You’re here for reform?” I ask. The group nods. Somehow, despite the ample time I’ve had to prepare, I find myself at a loss. Michael and I have anticipated a surge in followers, but I haven’t yet allowed myself to plan for any type of introduction speech. What am I supposed to tell them?

Saving me from making an impromptu speech, Jade walks in the door with another woman in tow. Leaving the crowd, I go to meet them and make a show of shaking the new girl’s hand. This serves multiple purposes – proving to the crowd that I’m not always as inhospitable as they saw and also buying myself time.

“My name is Carson Adachi,” I tell her. “Thank you for being here.”

“I’m Nadia,” she greets. “Nadia Luna.”

“What do you do, Nadia?”

Holding her hand in front of me, she smirks. Suddenly, her hand ignites and the flames engulf her palm. Shaking her hand, she dissipates the fire before cracking her neck.

“Class III Shifter,” she explains. “That’s what they tell me. They also said my power is too dangerous to use, so they had to ‘monitor’ me.”

“I was told my power is dangerous as well,” I chuckle. I’m glad they didn’t try to use Omega Protocol on her, but I can’t deny it would have been nice to have someone else who had first-hand experience with the drug. “I’m working to create a world where the Council doesn’t discriminate based on our powers. Where none of us are limited in using what makes us unique.”

I notice a few of the others looking toward me, so I turn and address the last sentence to everyone.

“Everyone, get to know one another. Learn your powers. We’re all brothers and sisters now. In order to help one another, we have to know our own roles.”

The crowd breaks into murmuring and Nadia brushes past me as she joins the group. Michael sneaks away from the others to join Jade and me at the door.

“Where did they all come from?” I whisper.

“It’s a good thing you know me, Powerless,” Jade teases. “I heard you and Michael were going to look for lower Classes who were dissatisfied, but there’s no strength in that. You see, when you spend your entire life with the elite, you realize something. No one is happy with the system. No status is enough.”

“We may have to accelerate the plan,” Michael observes. “I didn’t anticipate such rapid growth.”

“The seeds of dissent have been planted,” I smirk, glancing back at the group behind me. I check a clock on the wall. The five of us were supposed to have a meeting today, but it seems that has grown.

“How much attention did you bring to yourself, Jade?” I interrogate, trying to err on the side of caution.

“None,” she scoffs. “Do you think I’m an amateur?”

“When it comes to the task at hand, I’d say we all are,” I counter.

“I know all of them. They’ve said things in the past about the Council. A few of them are from Mechanic School and have complained about it being their only option. Others are Battle School dropouts. I haven’t been reckless, I’ve just been busy.”

I’ve never seen Jade show such a streak of intelligence, and I can’t say I’m not impressed. Every day, she proves to be an even more valuable asset.

The wall behind her moves and I nudge her aside. I know the new arrival is most likely someone I’ve been expecting, but I have to be careful. With so many people in my hideout now, it’s not unlikely someone was followed. Peeking her head in, Alexis spots all the people and her eyes widen.

“This is insane,” she mouths. I smile and nod, waving at her to enter. When she opens the door wider, she adds, “It makes my group look so small.”

Five people filter in behind Alexis. I recognize the glint of silver from one of them and groan. Unfortunately, I’m not in a position where I can pick my followers with too much discretion.

“Why are you here, Wyatt?” I ask.

“Well, I didn’t realize you were so strong,” he shrugs. “Now I get it. You understand better than anyone.”

“Understand what?” I don’t hide my annoyance. The last time I saw him, he was picking on my best friend. True leaders must set their personal feelings aside, but it’s hard for me to forgive his actions against Rhett.

“The Council acts like Class is just an indicator and it doesn’t mean anything. When we get into Trade Schools and jobs, they act like we’re all the same. You get it, though, Class I. We’re superior. Those lower Classes shouldn’t get the same rewards as us.”

I try to hide my grimace and plaster on a smile. No politician is able to keep all of his campaign promises, and I can’t deny the necessity of new members. Anyway, he knows where I am, so I can’t risk him becoming volatile. At the end of our movement, I will be the representative, and it will be my words which make a difference before the Council. Until then, he can hold whatever belief makes him follow me.

“Go mingle,” I mutter. Alexis introduces me to the others. They’re all lower Classes, and I’m quick to dismiss Wyatt’s radical viewpoint. Sabrina, Elizabeth, and Jared I don’t recognize. The last person to walk in, though, greets me warmly.

“Hey, Dean,” I say.

“I can’t believe it,” he laughs. “I had to see for myself. You’ve come a long way since dodgeball.”

“I’ve had to.”

I pull him into an embrace and pat his back before sending him off to join the rest of the crowd. In the distance, I see a blur moving quickly toward us. Within a few seconds, Lukas skids to a stop before the doorway.

“What are you all doing at the –” Lukas starts when he sees the rest of us gathered at the doorway. As he catches sight of the massive group of people behind me, he looks around rapidly. Stuttering over his words and trying to speak at his normally quick pace, he produces a slew of nonsensical sounds. Finally, he’s able to formulate a sentence. “Was I supposed to bring people?”

“No, you’re fine,” I console. “I was definitely not expecting this.”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” he defends, still clearly concerned that he isn’t pulling his weight. It strikes me as odd that Lukas is the only one who seems to have been able to keep quiet.

“You did great, Lukas. In fact, I’m impressed. You’ve proven your ability to keep a secret.”

“Sure, but they got you an army.”

“Not an army,” I quickly correct. “Just a group. We are protestors at best – and we have a way to go before that. We are not a militia.”

“Right, of course,” he stammers.

“Come on, let’s get inside. No reason to have this door open longer than necessary,” I instruct the group. Alexis and Lukas move inside and Jade slides the entrance closed behind them. “Alright, I guess it’s now or never.”

“You’ve got this,” Michael encourages, patting my shoulder. I exhale deeply and lift myself off the ground. Carefully, I push against the air beneath me without allowing the energy blasts to reach the ground. Slowly, I fly over the crowd beneath me and land on the balcony of the second story.

“Something different has brought each of you here,” I begin. “However, there is one common theme. All of us see the issue with the way things are run. The Council issues its commands with no regard for the citizens. Our voices are drowned out by their authority.

“Since birth, you’ve been assigned a role by them. At five years old – a mere child – they designated your worth. At eighteen they expected you to choose the career where you’ll spend the rest of your life. Then they limited your choices!

“Some of you have been told to hide your power, and others have been told your power is useless. From here on out, no one is powerless. No one is lesser. We will make our presence known. We will make our dissention known. We will right the brokenness of this world!”

The crowd erupts into a loud cheer, and I can’t stop myself from beaming. Standing before me is more than a hope – it’s a beginning. Following Michael’s plan, we will continue to grow. The Council will not be able to ignore us. Next time I face them, it will not be as a lone Powerless, but as a revered leader. They will have no choice but to listen to me, and together we can correct their errors.

“I do have to address some logistics,” I continue, regretting the necessity of my sudden shift. “Beginning when you leave this room, none of you have been here. You don’t know where it is, and you will not send people here. If we continue to grow our movement, centralization will bring a risk. Come here only when absolutely necessary and when you’re certain you’re not followed. All other communication will have to be underground and carefully monitored. Michael and any other Intellects present will help us encode communications. We are a mere spark and we aren’t ready to ignite the flame of change yet – we can’t risk being extinguished before we are.”