“Now, onto my mentioning of the SPBI,” Patricia continued as we sat down and shuffled out the various serving bowls and dishes. “The SPBI should’ve taken notice of your abnormal Super genome. Tell me, how often do you have a collar adjustment and check-up?”

“Monthly. Sometimes it ranges between bi-monthly and monthly. Why?”

“So you still have your check-up done. Do they take blood and a swab?” she asked, and I nodded. “So they must’ve known or at least spotted the abnormality by now.”

“So why did they never do anything?” Karen asked after she chewed for a moment.

“It’s likely they thought it didn’t matter,” Ophelia supplied.

“What do you mean?” I asked her as Patricia nodded thoughtfully.

“Well, you were collared and showing no signs of development. They likely thought it was better to leave you ignorant than take you out right.”

“Or snatch him up and make him their dog, when an enemy comes along that they can’t fight outright,” Karen growled and clenched his hand around her fork. “Just like they did with Bethany.”

“It does happen,” Patricia said gently and patted the blonde’s shoulder supportively. I shot a glance at Ophelia, but a discreet shake of the head made me not question who Karen was mentioning.

“So, it’s either the SPBI knows what I am—though I’m not sure even I do—and are either keeping me dumb and ignorant while they keep watch over me. Or are waiting for an opportune time in which they’ll need me. Likely by kidnapping and brainwashing,” I summarised. Every head nodded in agreement.

Karen still looked pissed at the thought.

“I never realised the SPBI were so…insidious,” I murmured. Oh, I knew they were assholes. The Private militant sector of the government threw its weight around quite a bit.

“Not all of SPBI is. Some have our genuine welfare at heart and want to us see protected and eventually prosper,” Patricia said. “But the ASP society has been worming its members within the SPBI for some time. Along with the Unbound running amuck and kidnapping people. Well, its fucking chaos to run anything properly in these times.”

“As lovely as this is. I better get going,” Karen mumbled and stood up slowly. “I’m gonna check out the academy - discreetly – and see what the word is.”

“You mean pay a visit to your college meathead?” Patricia mused with a smirk.

“Yes, actually,” the blonde agreed and shot her eyes at me in a glare. As if daring me to mention her boyfriend. “He and I… we need to talk.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I’m training purple-boy here today,” the Technomantic beauty smiled at me. I shot a look down at myself and frowned at the woman. I was still normal. “What about you, Ophelia?”

The angelic-woman smiled beside me. “I’m planning to open the bar tonight. So I’ll likely be preparing for that most of the day. Then, when Karen is back we’ll open up and man the place,” she looked at the blonde who nodded in return.

“I guess, I’m, learning how to use ‘super powers’ then today,” I said dryly. “Oh, one more thing,” I raised my hand and they all halted. “I couldn’t get in contact with my mom last-night. Would you be able to look in on my house,” I asked Karen pleadingly.

“Sure I can do that easily. Just need the address is all,” I told her so. “What is your mom name? just in case I see her and I’m able to contact her.”

“Teresa Thompson,” I answered with a nod.

All three women froze at my words.

“How did I not make that correlation,” Patricia whined and smacked her head with her hand.

“What?” I asked concerned. What in the bloody sunken depths was it this time.

“Elias,” Ophelia said gently to me, reaching over to squeezed my bicep. “Teresa Thompson is the name of the greatest Amper to ever live. So powerful in fact that she can reverse her affect. Basically quelling someone’s super power.”

“My mom doesn’t have a super power though,” I answered automatically. Then several things clicked all at once. Moms information on Super classes. Like Pulser, Phaser and Technomancer.

The very-common knowledge that super powers are trait’s passed through genetics. With one or more parent having the Supers genome.

I’m an idiot.

I had always thought my collaring was due to my dead dad’s genes running through me. Which is true—if this Exemplar Z—was actually my father, or a relative, as I suspected.

My lesser Amplifying genome made perfect sense then if my mom was herself, an Amplifier.

“Oh damn,” I muttered in stark realisation.

“No shit, oh damn. Your mom if it is her was a fucking legend in Preyta city,” Karen gawked at me.

“It would make sense,” Patricia mused, looking at me with some measure of new found respect. “She could’ve quelled his growth in powers as well possibly. Keeping the SPBI off their trail. Was your mom ever in Preyta—”

“She was born there,” I answered. “She fled when she was eight months pregnant with me. When the city cracked open.”

My dream pulsed to the forefront of my mind. The city breaking open and I sinking down into the horrible depths.

“If it is true. Then everything makes so much more sense,” Patricia squirmed in her seat like she wanted to dance. “I even tried to recruit your mother once. She told me she was happily fine with a married life,” the dark-haired woman shook her head in disbelief.

I on the over hand was reeling. It was a well-known fact that Arium collars didn’t nullify Ampers, or lessen their powers. Then there that mention of Patricia trying to recruit my mom

Mom had only been married for over a year before the sinking of Preyta. Twenty-four years ago this month. My own twenty-forth birthday was the end of next month.

Which would mean that Patricia could possibly be twice my age. I looked at the women all around and shook my head in disbelief.

I would have to bring this up with Ophelia. She seemed the easiest to persuade and most likely to give me answers.

~*~*~*~

“This is my workshop,” Patricia announced as we walked to the over side of the room.

I didn’t mentioned this before, but her house had an entire blast shield partition cutting the entire room in half. The other side of her house, was a series metallic pods lined up against one wall. The floor of the workshop was a major safety hazard with all the wiring and cables running across it.

I picked my way around, as the Technomancer stepped assuredly through the tangled chaos. Several workbenches laid about, some with half-finished projects seemingly long forgotten.

A holographic display of the entire city of Idrasa was illuminated above one central table in the workshop.

“This is brilliant,” I said in wonder.

“Good morning, Mr. Thompson,” Judy greeted, only nearly making me shit myself.

“Morning, Judy. You managed to get that base power level list?” I asked the orb as it floated up to hover over Patricia left shoulder.

“I did. If, Miss would be kind enough to switch the display to the Telekinesis tab I made available,” the orb replied and bobbed lightly.

Patricia didn’t answer, instead she held her hand over the holographic city and brushed it aside. It scattered into a million holographic pieces and was immediately replaced by a set of items.

Telekinesis.

Base power level capabilities.

Telekinetic Grip.

Telekinetic Pull.

Telekinetic Push.

Telekinetic Choking.

Telekinetic Binding.

Telekinetic Levitation.

Telekinetic Field.

Telekinetic Manoeuvring.

Telekinetic Calling.

“Wow, that is…a lot,” I noted, my brain swimming. “Just what the hell do they all mean?”

“I said we should’ve added the descriptions,” Patricia grumbled in annoyance to the floating orb on her shoulder.

“Indeed, Miss. You did suggest as much,” Judy agreed pleasantly.

“I’ll inform him, Judy. Can you activate the blast shield containment. So my house doesn’t explode or something?” the Technomancer asked the orb.

“Of course, Miss,” the orb acquiesced.

“Okay fine. Here’s the descriptions for each from the top,” she sighed.

~*~*~*~

I won’t bore you with the details.

It was a lot of theorised possibilities I came to understand. Judy had clumped together a list of possible actions and abilities I could do.

How to do them, though, was another matter. The list hadn’t included my projection form either which I found curious.

Patricia told me later on, when I brought it up with her. That until we had more information of my specific abnormal genome. My projection form was being classed as a side effect of my power’s. I knew it was more than that. I knew that when I considered the tether that linked my bodies together in that form.

“Okay, test one,” Patricia clapped her hands and sat behind her holographic table, which I was connected to. I was shirtless and staring intently at a pane of glass set on a mount two metres away. The cool press of the monitoring devices she had attached to me itched annoyingly.

I stared, and stared, and almost popped a blood vessel from so much bloody staring.

“I don’t think this is working,” I announced after two minutes of staring dumbly at the pane.

“Try focusing by using a medium,” Patricia informed me, and explained further at my raised eyebrow. “Powers are akin to projecting your will on yourself, and on the world. Some far greater than others.”

I nodded my understanding. Remembering the Unbound Elementalist causing the ground to ripple like a wave. And making the glass attack Karen in a frenzy of sharp tentacles.

“Karen uses Braken as a medium for her Stormcaster power’s though the relationship between the two is difficult in their case. What with the spear granting her powers to start with. Ophelia projects her will through her hands, and wings. Using them as a medium to will her power to her command. I use my hands and activation devices for both of my own powers as they complement one another.”

“So use my hands as a medium instead of staring?” I asked her sighing. “That would’ve been wonderful to know to start with,” I grumbled at her.

“Sorry. I forget you’ve only been with us less than a day.”

“It’s fine,” I waved and turned back to concentrate more fully on the pane of glass. I raise my hand, and sighted on my target.

I needed to project my will.

I thought on how to move it. Where to move it to. What to do with it. Which ability on the list I could make use of. Frustrated, I closed my eyes and summoned a single image in my mind. I wanted the glass pane to crack. A simple request. But after another few minutes of trying, nothing happened.

I began to think of my Projection form. Casting my awareness outwards. Picturing the irritating glass pane on the mount. Surrounding it with… a starry purple aura. Then tethering the glass to my achingly outstretched hand.

I peeked an eye open and saw… that nothing was happening again.

With a deep angered breath I clenched my teeth and my vison flashed white. My outstretched arm became consumed by the starry-purple pigmentation. My finger nails bled into a pure obsidian black.

This made possibly made me angrier.

All this fucking time spend staring stupidly at myself in the mirror last night was a waste. Then the realisation that I would have to change my appearance once yet again, and still didn’t know how it worked.

My mind conjured the image of my mom horror-stricken face, upon seeing me. Thinking of me as a monster and no longer her son.

That image, and that worry gut punched me so hard I felt something deep within my sternum clicked loudly. Starry-purple flame suddenly swam around my outstretched arm.

Let’s just say I panicked and ran about.

“Will you stop panicking,” Patricia shouted at me, as I slapped frantically at my arm trying to quell the flames.

“Don’t you see I’m on fucking fire,” I snapped angrily at her.

“No I don’t,” she snapped back at me and I paused. My whole arm from fingertips to shoulder was engulfed in the starry-purple flame. But now that I stopped to consider and really looked at my arm. I understood that it really wasn’t fire surrounding my limb.

It was like an aura.

A field projected around my arm, that flowed mercurially. Swimming like a purple lake of stars.

I turned back to the glass pane and held out my hand. With a quick thought, purple fire surrounded the glass and it levitated out of the mount to hover upon it.

“Holy shit,” I’d done it.

“Now try changing your appearance and doing that in your human guise,” Patricia mumbled to me. I shot her an annoyed glare. The lolly-pop in her mouth and her attention blatantly focused on the holographic table before her.

I sighed, and resigned myself to being a lab-rat.

~*~*~*~

We practiced for two hours before we took a break. Patricia so that she could pee, and I, so that I could rest. The change into my ‘human guise’ as Patricia put it. Was excruciatingly frustrating and tiring. I literally had to tire myself out before we noticed the change had begin.

By that point I had been informed to take off my jeans as well. Leaving me in only my underwear. The changed began at the tips of my fingers and toes. The starry-purple colouration covering me receded back across my body and towards my eyes.

My eyes were the last to change as the purple colouration retreated to the brim of my eyes lids. The white glowing blankness faded and returned my normal hazel irises. It was odd the things you missed seeing. Like having an actual pupil at the centre of your eye. I was glad to have it back.

But the effort of the change left me too tire to even focus on standing straight. Which is where I found myself presently sat on the rather uncomfortable cabled floor of Patricia’ workshop.

“How’re you feeling?” the dark-haired beauty asked me, after she returned from using the ladies room.

“Like something just shit cement down my throat,” I replied hoarsely. My mouth was dry and rough.

“I meant more along the lines of mental exhaustion,” she clarified.

I shot her a dark look.

“If my body doesn’t want to move. You can be pretty certain my head is staying put,” I replied testily.

“Okay, okay. This is good news though,” she nodded thoughtfully.

I grunted, rolled my head slowly atop my neck and yawned. “How?”

“Everyone who has unfortunately experienced the redevelopment of their powers feels that way. It’s your body and mind trying to catch up to years of stunted growth. Each new development and action drains them considerably.”

“Then what good is all of this then?” I asked and shook my head tiredly.

“It’s not permanent, Eli. So far today you’ve learned how to access your powers, and even demonstrated a little.”

“If by demonstrating you mean levitating some glass and making it spin, then I’ve got power in abundance,” I snorted derisively.

It had actually gotten easier to access my powers in my not-so human(ish)-guise after accidentally doing it. All I did was summon the image of my arm covered in the starry-purple aura, and it came easily.

Levitating the glass pane however, had grown more enduring with each time I did it.

“You just need rest. Seriously, you had a good start today. You’ve only just started. For some of us, it took years to learn even how to access our abilities. Whereas some picked it up as easily as breathing. It’s about trying and practicing.”

“Okay, I get it. The pep-talk wasn’t necessary,” I said and raised my hands to cut her off. “Now, could you help me up. One of your cables is digging into my ass.”

“Sure,” she replied admirably, and took my hands to help me stand. Then she pulled me along behind her and out of her blast shielded workshop.

“Sit down,” she commanded and plopped me in a chair at the table we’d had breakfast on a few hours ago. “I’ll make us some lunch and get you a cool drink. Then we’ll go upstairs—if you’re feeling better by then—and see Ophelia.”

The name of the angelic woman kindled a fire deep within my chest and I urged all of my internal functions to wake up soon.

~*~*~*~

We were all in the bar above the secret underground base when Karen burst through the front entrance, interrupting the cleaning we’d been doing.

The Witching Cove hadn’t been open for the last week or so. As Ophelia and Patricia had wanted to make a few minor improvements on style, comfort, and security.

The former of the women was more focused on style and comfort, where the latter was more worried about their security.

This task was made manifold by my arrival. The security. Not the style and comfort of the bar.

Ophelia and myself had been working on moving certain benches around, and hanging up well depicted art of Winderall.

Which was around the instance when Karen burst into the bar panting heavily and looking at me with a strange expression.

“A…S…P… society,” she panted. “I think they’ve kidnapped your mom, Elias.” It was apparent by my immediate purpling that the news had frightened and angered me all at once.

“Why the fuck would you think that?” I asked her in disbelief.

“Your house… it was trashed. Broken into. I asked a few of your rather nosy neighbours about it. Apparently the SPBI showed up yesterday morning, while you were at the academy. They supposedly talked to your mom and left afterwards. Then last night your house was ransacked, and your neighbours heard a woman screaming. And there was fighting. Then a group of seven—or twenty depending on who you ask—left your house carrying a woman between them. She was stuffed into the back of van, and they left.”

“And none of my neighbours called the authorities about it?” I asked and stared blankly.

“None,” she grimaced and shook her head.

“Why do you believe it’s the ASP society, Kar?” Patricia asked, concerned, and intrigued.

“There’re fifteen members of their cult set-up in his neighbourhood. Your neighbour, Mrs. Bansea has supposedly gone on an abrupt holiday to Ziila city to see her son.”

“But Mrs. Bansea doesn’t have a kid…. In fact she despises children of all kind. The only thing she’s ever been nice to was a Mysetian, and those sea birds are annoying as all hell.”

“Exactly. But no one saw her leave, and she was out in her garden yesterday. There is currently a team of ASP member’s living there now. And her back garden has a freshly dug pit. The size of a grave.”

“Shit. But that doesn’t make any sense. I haven’t done anything to the ASP society to warrant them coming after me. Or even kidnapping my mother,” I seethed.

The wine glass in Patricia hands tugged out of her grip and drifted upwards. I blinked as I realised it was surrounded in my starry-purple telekinetic aura.

Then, just because I was apparently angry enough, I struck the glass with my mind and a flick of my fingers. It shattered into a multitude of sparkling shards. Each and every single one, within my grasp. Then I exerted more of my will and withdrew my hand back to my side. The shards streamed over to me and spun before me.

A turbulent hurricane of sharp glassy shards spun above the palm of my hand and I pushed myself yet again. Sweat beaded my brow and trickled down my face.

The hurricane burst out in a chaotic storm of whistling missiles. They shot around the interior of the bar and met back above my hand where they began to piece themselves back into the form of the wine glass they’d been prior.

“That, was…fucking…incredible,” Karen whispered softly, and I looked up at her. My own face showed my amazement.

I blinked as the room swayed, tipped, and churned, then I fell unconscious.

This novel is the work of Rhys Thomas. If you are reading this and it has not been published by Rhys Thomas, then this work has been stolen. Please report this to Amazon and me at email: [email protected]