After the bloodiest battle in human history, with both sides suffering severe casualties, Dante Amar has revealed his power and led his army to victory. Following the surrender of the newly formed global army, Amar issued a statement on an international broadcast. Amar claims that he has “no intention of putting anyone through what [they] went through.” Furthermore, he asserts that, “We’re all human.” This doesn’t mean non-powered humans can sleep easy, because the future shaped by Amar and his generals is still uncertain. – Kaitlyn Quinn, 201 Anno Imperi Ortu

Sitting at the table in the middle my hideout, I look down at Michael’s map. Coated in notes and tacks, it’s almost completely unrecognizable. Regardless, I try to decipher his organization scheme to get a better idea of his plan. We already have over thirty followers – I don’t know how many he thinks we need to move on to the next phase. Recruitment has slowed over the past few days, most likely because the most trusted among my ranks have already exhausted their contacts. Now, in order for our movement to spread, we require an extra degree of separation

Still, if all of us stood together and protested, the Council would have to hear our unified voice. They couldn’t possible ignore nearly three dozen citizens. Even if they did, others would see. Whether those others joined or not, they would be confronted with the way the Council reacts to dissention. At this point, we’ve already won, so I don’t know why Michael keeps telling me to take my time.

Unfortunately, I can’t argue with the fact that he’s more intelligent than me. Even a Class V Intellect operates on a completely different plane than anyone else. The least intelligent Intellect outclasses any historic scientist or current non-Intellect. Therefore, I fall back in my chair and resolve to continue to allow my tactician to handle the operations. A good leader doesn’t need to possess every skill – it’s only his job to know who is able to get any given job done.

Growing antsy, I stand and pace around the room. Although I know it’s the most logical decision, I regret telling everyone to avoid the hideout. Giving away our location is the last thing we want right now, but I’m beginning to feel like a fugitive again. A fugitive with a much-improved standard of living, granted, but a fugitive nonetheless.

Finally, I hear a beeping emanating from the communication device Michael had installed in the table. Somehow, he had learned of an ancient communication method using only beeps – some longer than others. He’d created an entire alphabet using that as a basis and taught it to my entire group. With nothing but time on my hands, I had mastered it within a few days.

Listening to the beeping, I’m able to glean the message from the noises on its first pass. It repeats itself three more times, probably in case I hadn’t heard or missed a word. Hearing the same thing four times in no way diminishes the beauty of the words.

“Carson, I think we’re ready. Can we meet?”

I tap the device, preparing to send a message. I still have to translate in my mind, so I begin thinking through my message. Although I’m convinced Michael is the only person in the world who has heard of this code, he’d insisted on shifting the letters to be safe. I is four dots. N is two dashes.

“Inner circle?” I’m finally able to reply. I wonder if this is how people used to feel learning a new tongue before the Council had united us under a single language. For some reason, speaking is so much harder than understanding.

“Yes, on my way.”

I check the time. It’s still before noon – I hope he isn’t missing class to come see me. If one of them does it will be suspicious, if all four do it will be a giveaway. I start to send a message along those lines, but I stop in the middle. Not even sure what day it is, I’m not the authority on this subject. As my tactician, Michael would never make such an amateur mistake.

Impatiently, I wait for the others to arrive. While I’m eager to move forward with our plans, I think the human interaction is exciting me just as much. Before all of this happened, I never would have imagined myself anticipating a simple conversation this much – let alone one with this particular group.

Channeling my energy into something productive, I stand and look around the room. I have to keep up my training. The improvement I’ve made in only a few days is notable, but it isn’t enough. I know a strong enough Brawn could still easily break through my barriers. Aside from that, after the stunt I pulled with the Peacekeepers at my last rally, I’m sure they’ll send more to stop me next time. I don’t know how many people I can hold back at a time – especially if their powers are tailored to overcome mine. The Peacekeepers will be training, I have to make sure I am as well.

Lifting the refrigerator has become relatively simple, and my head doesn’t hurt as much. Holding it in the air still wears me out, but not for almost five minutes. I need to progress to something heavier, but I can’t find anything. We’ve cleared up most of the hideout, and even the top floor looks almost complete. There isn’t enough drywall or concrete lying around to challenge myself.

Falling back into the chair, I surrender my endeavor. I’m surrounded by construction materials, but it would be insane to go outside and randomly levitate things in broad daylight. Since I know I shouldn’t waste the time, I face my hands toward the basement. Lifting them, I lift everything on the floor beneath me. I’ve become adept at moving things without seeing them as long as I know their location relative to me. That proves to me that my energy doesn’t come from my hands or move out in waves – I’m able to control things from a distance.

When Michael slides open the entrance, I gently set down my furniture and appliances. Standing, I crack my knuckles and stretch. There’s a slight pressure in my head and a few beads of sweat on my forehead, but I’m barely winded.

“How’s the training?” Michael asks. Embarrassed, I wipe the sweat from my brow and shrug. For some reason, though I’m aware he knows I frequently train, I am not fond of anyone knowing I exert myself. Of course, it’s objectively an admirable trait to try to better oneself, but I can’t deny my inclination to hide that effort. Shrugging off my shame, I laugh at myself and finally allow an answer to his question to slip into my mind.

“It’s going well. Extremely well, actually. I have no idea what the limits of my power are, but I can easily lift all the furniture in this base whether I see it or not.”

“That’s a huge development. That’s great,” Michael cheers. Leaning over the table, he scribbles a sentence on one of his sticky notes.

“Does this alter the plan?”

“No, not much, but it is comforting. One of the limiting factors is your ability to defend yourself.”

“Had you made this clear, Michael, I would have trained harder.”

“I don’t think you could have trained much harder without potentially causing brain damage. Anyway, I have a note here titled ‘Limiting Factors.’”

“Well, in that case I take full responsibility for my ignorance.”

"To be fair, I try to use horrible penmanship to keep others from reading it. Some of those aren’t even letters.”

“You’re diabolical, you know that?”

“Precautions must be taken when we’re leading a… what would you call us? We aren’t a revolution.”

“An activist group? I guess,” I shrug.

“I’ll settle for that if you’ll allow me to add an adjective.”

“That’s a big request.”

“A controversial activist group,” he asserts, ignoring my joke. Nodding silently, I accept his contribution. Still, it’s stating things lightly. I’m a fugitive and anyone associated with me is a criminal. We’re more than controversial.

Running at a fraction of his maximum speed, Lukas bursts through the door. As he slows, the wind threatens to dislodge notes from Michael’s map, but I stabilize them with telekinesis.

“Sorry, I was trying to jog,” Lukas quickly apologizes.

“No harm done,” I assure him.

“I got a message saying it’s urgent. We have something to discuss? I’m so glad I can help. I wasn’t doing anything – I don’t usually plan stuff for the weekends. Sometimes I do, I like to hike if I can but I also like to do things indoors when it’s hot. Today I wasn’t doing much though, so I ran here. I mean I jogged here, I didn’t run fast, I didn’t want to draw attention. But it’s urgent so I wanted to get here quickly. What are we going to do? Is it finally time to see Carson in action?”

Lukas punctuates his rapid rambling with a few quick punches in the air. Continuing with more things he likes to see in action, Lukas starts to speak even faster. As he gets excited, his words become less intelligible, so I simply smile and nod. Rather than trying to interrupt him, I allow him to finish his train of thought. We aren’t in any particular rush since the others aren’t here yet, and I figure it will make him feel more appreciated.

“We’ll discuss the plan when Jade and Alexis get here,” Michael tells Lukas when he finally finds an opportunity to interject.

“I like hiking too,” I contribute. An idea clicks in my mind as I watch Lukas bouncing on his heels. Waiting for our companions, he is clearly trying to find a way to work out some of his extra energy. “Hey, I have an idea, Lukas. You want to see me in action, right?”

“Oh yeah! I’ve only seen a little of your power and it’s so cool but I don’t really know anything about it or –”

“I have an idea,” I interrupt. “I’ve been trying to train to hold back Brawns and Runners. Strength can overpower my barrier but speed can launch so many attacks I simply can’t compensate. I’m worried I’ll tire too quickly. Would you be willing to channel some of that energy into throwing a flurry of punches into a barrier for me?”

“Will it hurt? It’s okay if it will, I’m tough.”

“No, it won’t hurt.”

“Oh good, I was bluffing about being tough.”

“Are you ready to try this?” I laugh. “Let’s start slow.”

Settling into a strong stance, I put up a barrier between us. Lukas throws a punch, but he pulls it back when it gets too close to me. I nod, trying to convince him to commit to the technique. When he fails to throw punches twice more, I extend the barrier further out. The further it is from me, the less control I have, so he’s more likely to break it. However, he’s proven that I can trust him to avoid hurting me too much if he does break the barrier and that added difficulty will help me train more anyway.

Finally, Lukas commits to a single punch against me. The force vibrates my barrier and I feel some kind of motion in my mind, as if the vibration is being transmitted directly into my brain. Lukas throws a few more punches, slowly by his standards but quickly by mine, and the buzzing picks up speed in my mind. Increasing to the speed of a slow Runner, he throws another dozen punches. I start to slide back as I try to hold my stance, but the repeated force is becoming more than I can handle. He punches faster and the vibration of my barrier is nearly constant. My head is pounding, but I have to keep it up. I can practically feel my barrier cracking, but I don’t want to give up. From what I can tell, he’s barely even moving at a quarter of his speed at most.

Movement from the doorway pulls our attention and Lukas stops punching to face Jade as she enters. Releasing the barrier, I stumble forward and rub my temples. Her timing couldn’t have been better, because it allows me to uphold the image Lukas has of me. Another few seconds and that barrier would have shattered. Now I know another way I have to train my power, but I can’t think of anything to use to consistently produce force like that on my own.

“You’re training?” Jade growls.

“I’m just trying to strength my barriers,” I shrug.

“I can punch way harder than him.”

“I know you can, I’m just not ready to practice with you,” I lie, stroking her ego. Jade’s chest puffs out slightly and she lifts her head.

“Of course not, Powerless.”

Alexis wanders in not long after Jade, and her face drops in disappointment as soon as she enters.

“Sorry, I’m last again,” she mumbles.

“Don’t be sorry, I was actually last last time. I was at work and then I came here and you guys had so many new recruits. It was crazy. I didn’t bring anyone because I didn’t want to tell anyone. I didn’t want you guys thinking I talk too much. Anyway, I was last,” Lukas rambles, trying to comfort her.

“Yeah, who could ever think you talk too much?” Jade teases. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one she picks on.

“Also, I didn’t give much notice. I’m glad you could all make it at all,” Michael adds.

“No need to apologize,” I tell Alexis. The point has been made already, rendering my comment redundant. However, I am also aware that at times, it takes hearing something from the right person. As the one she was concerned about disappointing, I think my consolation is important to her.

“Great, so I think we should get started,” Michael suggests. With no complaints, he proceeds to explain his plan. “Our support in town is growing. We will want Carson to make statements at these points. However, our first move should be to target the food supply. Carson can pitch his cause to the farmers first. Hopefully a few of them will defect, but even if they don’t they’ll be thinking. Our goal here isn’t to gather members, it’s to start a slow process of converting the farmers. Once we have their support, this will be easy.

“In the meantime, while the farmers are absorbing Carson’s words, we’ll gather more support in town. By the time we’re ready to control the food supply, there will be hundreds of us. The Council will have no choice but to hear our demands and to work with Carson to purge their system of its corruption.”

“Sounds like a good overview, but why are we here now?” Jade demands.

“I was getting to that part. So, today we will be making a journey to the fields just outside town. We don’t want to bring too many people in case we’re caught. These are the people we can truly trust to keep secrets. Aside from that, even if the Council sees five of us, they’ll assume the cause is still small.

“That said, we want to avoid getting caught. We aren’t ready to have big groups openly demonstrating support for Carson. Instead, he will try to gather support from the farmers on his own. I will watch from afar and handle escape routes. Peacekeepers generally don’t patrol the exterior of town, so they will take time to respond to any sighting of Carson. Lukas, you can run circles around the field and inform us at the first sight of them. Jade, you’re here for backup. Our goal is to avoid deploying you, but if Carson is in trouble you’ll step in. Alexis, you’re our plant. As farmers start to gather around, you sneak into the crowd and cheer. Loudly voice your agreement, but don’t be obvious about it. Does everyone understand?”

“Yes,” I nod, slightly too eagerly.

“Are you ready for this?” Michael asks.

“This is our first major step. Until now we’ve been a band of dreamers. Now, we’re acting. I’ve never been more ready.”

Agreeing to the plan, we all split up and work our way toward the outskirts of town. A cluster of ranches produce all the food we need in town, and most of the work is done by ranch-hands who are often undervalued. After all of our success leading up to this moment, I’d be shocked to leave without a few more supporters. Of course, they won’t be able to openly say I’ve converted them, but they will help the seed of doubt spread to their coworkers.

I haven’t been to the farmland before, so navigating is a novel concept for me. However, between Michael’s instruction in my ear and my general experience sneaking through town, the task proves to be no issue. In no time, I stand at the edge of the farmlands and watch as dozens of people laboriously till fields and gather crops in the heat of the sun.

For convenience, most of them live in small huts around the fields. A river flows through the middle of the farmland and a watermill provides them power. Even many bakers have moved here for the open space and easy access to wheat. With a source of fresh water, direct access to the food they produce, and a way to provide their own power, the farmlands have become nearly self-reliant. While they’re still technically part of the city, many people have little to no interaction with anyone in the city after they move here. Before taking up my cause, I had never seen the injustice of treating our primary breadwinners as outsiders. Now, as I think about their situation, I grow increasingly frustrated with the Council. I don’t understand how they’ve managed to convince us all this is normal.

Ready to share my revelations with the dwellers of the farmlands, I boldly work my way toward the river. So focused on their work, no one even lifts their head to see me move. I start to wonder why I didn’t try to take refuge here when I was declared a fugitive. No one would bother to look for me, and I’m sure they wouldn’t have cared as long as I pulled my weight.

“Can I have your attention for a moment?” I call out, standing in the intersection of the center fields. A few people look up from their work, but they quickly bury their heads in it once again. I have to do something flashier.

I raise myself into the air, flying a few feet above all of them. I try to think more about lifting myself than pushing the air beneath me. Levitating, I feel no need to point my hands toward the ground.

“Ranchers,” I scream. “Your work is vital. You are literally the reason we can all live.”

“Thanks,” one of them calls back.

“We know,” another laughs.

“That’s why we do it.”

“Don’t you feel undervalued? Being forced to live outside of town like this?”

“Forced?” One man laughs, finally dropping his hoe and straightening his back. Tilting his head upward, he shields his eyes as he looks at me. “We don’t want anything to do with city life. It’s peaceful out here.”

“But you’re ignored by society. The Council treats you like second-class citizens,” I struggle, losing my resolve. No one is moving. There is no gathering, so Alexis isn’t going to work as a plant. Anyway, it seems all of these people would notice if an outsider tried to pretend to be part of their group.

“The Council makes it clear how much our work is appreciated,” the outspoken rancher argues. “Dante himself comes to pick up food sometimes. Who even are you, kid?”

“I’m Carson Adachi.”

“Well, Carson, please stop flying up there and blocking the sun. We’re happy here, just let us work.”

“You just think you’re happy,” I argue. As I struggle to make my point, I begin to lose control of my power. I’m feeling overwhelmed and the water in the river begins sloshing around violently. “What if you wanted to go back?”

“We wouldn’t have chosen this assignment,” the rancher shrugs. A few others nod and raise their voices in agreement. I can’t believe the Council has so thoroughly brainwashed them that they legitimately believe they’re okay with such a life. They slave away for the sake of the Council and they’re barely recognized by the those in town for their efforts. I refuse to accept this as fair treatment – and I refuse to believe they’re truly accepting of their fate.

“We have a problem,” Lukas says over the communicator in my ear. I fall silent for a moment as I try to listen.

“The PeaceKeepers are coming?” Michael asks.

“No. No Peacekeepers. Just Dante Amar,” Lukas stammers, clearly in disbelief himself.

“What?” I stammer, unable to catch myself.

“I’m telling you we’re happy, kid. I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I don’t want any part of it. Please just go home,” the rancher explains, interpreting my comment as a response to him.

I start to lower myself to the ground, but I refuse to give up. Whether they know it or not, I’m offering them a better life. I can’t allow this one delusional man who’s still fond of his career choice to speak for the crowd. If he continues reinforcing those ideas, the others won’t open their minds to what I’m saying.

“That’s great for you,” I sigh. “Some people love their jobs. Others don’t. It’s the ones who don’t who are marginalized. You see, they can never go back.”

“We have a choice, any career from drone school, it’s not –” The man tries to say, but I redirect the soundwaves into the earth to silence him. He continues to try, but everything he says falls on deaf ears.

“What did you do?” Another worker asks, dropping his tools in surprise and stumbling backward.

“Don’t be afraid of me, I’m here to help you,” I desperately try to explain.

“What kind of power is that?” Someone else squeals.

“What is he?”

“Stop him!”

“Help!”

“I’m here to save you!” I plea. “Please just listen! They call you drones. They send you away and make you do mindless, menial labor.”

“Mindless?” One brave drone scoffs.

“That isn’t what I meant!”

“Carson,” a familiar voice bellows, overpowering my own. I turn to see him standing in the field a few feet from me. Dante Amar. “What are you doing here, Carson?”

“I’m exposing your corruption,” I snap.

“You’re making a fool of yourself, Carson. Come down and stop screaming at these people.”

“The Council is trying to silence me again!” I desperately yell, feeling myself falling apart. My plan is collapsing around me. With Dante here, I have no idea how to correct it.

“I’m trying to help you, Carson. I didn’t come here with PeaceKeepers. I came to talk to you.”

“He threatened me with PeaceKeepers!”

“Carson, enough.”

I have to think of something. Somehow, there must be a way to turn this around. If I can twist his words, I can show the farmers who he really is. Lying isn’t how I want to build my movement, but I don’t have a choice. In the end, it’s for their betterment. I’m just trying to help them.

Dante has been alive a lot longer than me, though. He has more experience in leadership, and I know he has a better understanding of how to calm a crowd. Maybe it’s best to cut my losses.

“Come with me, Carson. No PeaceKeepers. No fugitives. Just let me teach you. You won’t be overlooked.”

“It’s too late for that,” I argue. “You’ve already betrayed me once.”

“We’ve all made regrettable decisions. Please, allow me to make things right.”

Suddenly, I understand what he’s doing. Not only is he making me look foolish in front of potential converts, but he’s also painting himself to be a hero. This is exactly the image Dante has fabricated for himself. Because of this façade, the farmers will never trust me. I haven’t engrained a false image in their minds since their childhood.

“I want things to be made right too,” I tell Dante. “That’s all I’m advocating for here. But I can’t do it alone.”

“You don’t have to. You and I can come together and fix this.”

“Why would you listen to me? Aren’t I a criminal?”

“You made a mistake. Come.”

“Last time you said that, you tried to take my power! No, I don’t trust you. I’ll talk with you, Dante Amar, but not until I have more. Then, if you silence me, someone else will rise to take my place.”

“I can’t allow you to keep trying to spread dissent, Carson. Talk this through with me now – let’s bring an end to this fued.”

“You won’t. No, this has to be done this way. All I want is to fix the Council. I’m not ready yet.”

“Carson!” He tries to get me to stay, but I have no doubt he’s already summoned PeaceKeepers. Darting off, I quickly fly back toward the city. I take shelter in an alleyway and carefully navigate my way back home. It isn’t long before the others arrive as well.

“That… Did not go well,” Michael surmises.

“You think?” I snap.

“It’s okay, we’ll do better next time,” Alexis offers.

“What if there is no next time?” In a fit of rage, I swipe my hand to the side. All of the chairs around the table collapse.

“Calm down, Carson,” Lukas consoles. I turn from him, unable to face them after my failure. I feel my body pulsating and vibrating just as it had in the school. No matter how much I’ve trained – how much more control I have – I feel that control slipping away again. The room shakes and the table threatens to fall over.

“Just go. I need to be alone,” I demand. Hesitantly, Lukas, Michael, and Alexis leave. Standing by my side, Jade refuses. Now I’ve lost her respect as well – she won’t follow a basic order.

“As much as I love seeing you like this, Powerless, get ahold of yourself. So you had one setback. If you get this angry every time Dante foils a plan, you’ll never be able to face him. I know you have problems with him, but you’re the one who keeps saying you want reform. You have to start acting like a resistance leader and not a scorned child.”

“Me? I’m acting like a child?” I laugh bitterly. Scowling, I turn to face her. With a deep breath, I try to control myself. She’s right. They need a leader. I need to be able to stay calm in stressful situations. Before I have time to try to stop the intensifying quaking my power is causing, I feel her fist connect with my jaw. Numb, I don’t even feel the impact as I fall to the ground.