Hatching 2.4
Musty smell, old yellow-tinted lightbulbs, the soft sound of pages turning and fingers clacking on keyboards. The Sydney Public Library was pretty much the same as every other library I'd ever been in.
Except for one.
I looked up from the computer monitor in front of me, glancing around for any sign of my… appointment for the evening. No such luck. The library's computer lab was on the second floor of the building, close enough to a balcony giving a view of the ground floor. The building had only a few customers this late at night, and all gave the dirty, odd-smelling man at the computer desk a wide berth.
I winced as a somewhat attractive young woman walked past me with a dismissive little sniff. Being without a home for a couple days hadn't exactly done much for my hygiene. Unfortunate, but hopefully after tonight I'd be able to rectify that.
Watching the woman's retreating rear -and what a rear it was- I glanced around to ensure I wasn't being watched. Confirming I was alone, I activated my power once more.
Immediately, I was in the Library… while still in the library. That wasn't confusing at all.
It was a little jarring, simultaneously experiencing the two libraries at once. The Sydney Library was a quaint, small little building that showed its share of wear and tear. The years had not been kind, but it had the typical ambiance of an occupied building. Faint sighs, pages rustling, even the barely audible electric hum of the halogen lights overhead.
Not so with the Library. The Library was vast, precisely organized, and impossibly silent. Bereft of clutter, devoid of noise. A world onto itself, where only myself and pure Information existed.
From a logical standpoint I'd figured out a while ago that a human library probably wasn't what the inside of the alien crystal spirit in my brain looked like. It was likely merely an "interface", just how my power had chosen to present the vast amount of information it commanded in a way my limited human mind could process and comprehend. But only when the real building was overlaid with the "fake" one in my mind did the flaws in the illusion become readily apparent.
Normally, the Library would be the sort of environment that made me nervous. Huge, empty buildings tended to give most human beings the willies. The paranoid, reptilian corner of our minds would fill in the blanks of what we couldn't see with all sorts of nasties. We'd start imagining every aisle, every sharp turn and corridor inhabited by some unseen monster, waiting to lunge out at us the second we walked by.
Yet somehow… I just didn't get that sense from the Library. If anything, the act of zipping through the empty aisles and scrolling through dozens of packed shelves in a fraction of a real-world second actually made me feel… safe. I understood that this place was mine, and mine alone. I instinctively knew that no one could ever reach me here. No one could ever hurt me here.
It was… reassuring.
Never let it be said that sharing a brain with a four-dimensional alien didn't have its benefits.
As my mental self continued to plumb the depths of what still appeared to be an effectively bottomless trove of knowledge and power, my real world self turned back to the task it had been performing. When I'd first gotten my power the sensation of splitting my focus between the real world and the catalog of knowledge had been maddeningly difficult, requiring me to first shut my eyes, walling off my senses to one world to understand the other.
Now? As I continued to use my power every day? Now it wasn't even a challenge. While I was largely powerless on my own, I could comfortably assume I did indeed possess at least a minor thinker power. I could split my focus between the real world and the mindscape with no drawbacks to my ability to pay attention to either. Gradually the act of scrolling through my catalog of power was becoming a casual motion akin to a comforting tic, like tapping my foot or rapping my fingers on the desk.
And right now I needed something to keep me calm, considering what I was seeing. I exhaled as I looked at the logo on the monitor.
Parahumans Online.
So, that was a thing. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined I'd get to see the fandom's favorite website "in person" little over a week ago. I had to admit, even with everything that had happened, I was still internally nerding out a little over getting to see the place for myself.
It was a damn shame I was only getting the chance because of a tragedy.
Of course, my lurking hadn't all been for fun. PHO had been useful in gathering information on Canadian capes. As my first order of business I looked up Halcyon's article on the parawiki, to figure out exactly what the hell he'd hit me with.
Thankfully for me, Halcyon was actually something of a local celebrity. I wasn't at all surprised to learn that between his looks and his... quite frankly overpowered superpower he was one of the "big names" of the Canadian Protectorate. That meant between his media appearances and eyewitness accounts of his fights, people had more or less figured out the gist of his power.
The short explanation of Halcyon's power was he was a medium-ranged shaker, but the reality was far, far more complicated. And scary. His power allowed him to project an "energy field" from his body that manifested as that weird shimmering blue light. And once he managed to engulf you in it, he was basically your god he decided to let you go.
According to what witnesses were able to observe, he could effectively control the weight and mass of anything or anyone in his field. No known Manton Limit. He could increase the air resistance around a person to the point they'd effectively be frozen in place as if doused in containment foam. He could alter his own weight and air resistance to near-zero to achieve a sort of pseudo flight and superspeed, and then once more alter himself to seem super-heavy and drop on top of people. If he couldn't just instantly shut you down with his field -which he usually could- his favored method of fighting was reduce the mass of engulfed objects to make them super-light and then toss them with pseudo super strength, letting them leave the field to land on the target with their original weight.
Talk about a broken powerset. I firmly put Halcyon in the category of capes to which the appropriate response was to "avoid wherever possible".
Early reports were coming in about the town hall as well. Despite my hopes, eyewitness accounts didn't really amount to anything useful. People describing how they felt under the effect, lots of hearsay and speculation, and the inevitable spam of "HEARTBREAKER, HEARTBREAKER!".
The thread derailed from there by -to my utter disgust- fans of the prolific serial rapist, but I was at least able to confirm no arrests had been made yet.
I'd also done some research on a few other "new" capes and gangs I'd only overheard passing reference to from the other refugees. Infamous ones like the Montblanc Brothers, the Horned King and the Fearmonger. I even brushed up on Nova Scotia's weaker ones like the petty thief Sidewind, the unsuccessful and aptly-named con-woman Victim, and fifth-rate thugs like Notorious and Deadbeat.
Unlike the characters in a typical self-insert fic, however, I had no real way of knowing if any of them were going to be relevant to my situation or not. Worm readers undoubtedly held the advantage in Brockton Bay, where they already knew the ins and outs of everyone's powers and the identities and interpersonal relationships of all the capes they were practically guaranteed to run into. I however was in completely uncharted territory, constantly getting bombarded with references to capes and events I'd never even heard of before. Still, at least now I was making some headway towards understanding my situation.
It was jarring, realizing how disconnected from the outside world I'd been in the camp and on the street. Connecting to the web for the first time in weeks and seeing the public outcry put in perspective the amount of attention there really was on this town right now. Despite that, the amount of information getting exchanged that was actually relevant to me could be counted on one hand, however.
The outcry over the deplorable refugee situation in Sydney had largely been swept up in the general firestorm over the extent of the damage Leviathan caused. Most threads were just repeats of the first one posted after the attack: freaking out over the fact an entire island sank into the ocean, people listing the dead, posting the names and if possible video proof of the confirmed living, and overall largely expressing skepticism towards the whole idea of sending capes to combat the Endbringers.
Even if most of the outcry was probably just emotional backlash to one of the worst Endbringer attacks in the setting's history, I had to say I agreed with the overall sentiment. "Hey, best and brightest capes in the world, here's three invincible death monsters with body counts in the millions. How about you leave the cities you're supposed to be protecting undefended to punch them really hard and see if it does anything?"
That part of the grimdarkness of the Wormverse always felt more than partially self-inflicted to me. Send your genius inventors and strongest champions for justice to their near-certain deaths, and then act shocked when morale is in the pits, the criminals outnumber the heroes and Cauldron's chances of beating Scion are infinitesimally slim.
There's noble sacrifice for the greater good, and then there's a God-damn banzai suicide charge.
While ninety percent of the forum topics had been the usual inflammatory drivel, the other ten percent was what really concerned me. The rising unrest combined with the rising cape sightings made for a dangerous combination. All the more reason for me to get the hell out of here as soon as I could.
A typical self-insert protagonist would probably leap at the chance to leap into the fray and get his or her name out there as soon as possible. But I wasn't the typical Worm reader. Well, technically I was, but my powers and foreknowledge would be worth nothing if I got myself shot by some gang-banger after I made the rookie mistake of trying to become the "defender of Sydney".
Misguided heroics were a high-risk, low-return proposition. No no, it would be only low-risk, high-return ventures for me, from now until the moment I raised enough cash to skip town. Then, and only then, would I slowly, methodically explore the potential of cutting loose with my power.
While I'd learned a great deal, my study session was abruptly cut short when I glanced around for the twentieth time. I'd been so engrossed in my reading, I'd almost missed the group led by a familiar face as they made their way up the stairs.
I smiled.
"Showtime," I muttered to myself as I quickly shut down the computer and took a position by the window.
I quickly glanced around to make sure there were some people around, but also that I specifically wasn't being watched. I'd picked this spot for this first meeting not just to get internet access, but also so I could amass a large gathering without looking too suspicious. Regardless of their portrayal in popular culture, clandestine meetings between bad guys in dark back alleys away from any and all potential witnesses were just begging for trouble.
If this went south, I figured my would-be henchmen would be less likely to try to attack me in a well-lit, public place with witnesses loitering about.
I didn't turn to face the newcomers, not yet. Instead, I fully faced the windows, hands clasped together behind my back. Sydney stretched out before me. Tent City was visible on the horizon, countless spotlights illuminating its black towers against the night sky. It was a shame we'd been stranded in such a place. If you took away the massive influx of trash, refugees and poverty, Earth Bet's Sydney was actually a charming little town.
And now it was time to try my hand at the theatrics the cape world was known for, and to see if I was any good at it. If I was going to make it here, I'd damn well have to be.
As the group approached, I examined the hazy shapes my agent had brought me: eleven people, counting my agent. A small group compared to my predecessor's work, but more would come in time. With what I was selling, I had no doubt.
The man leading the group clearly saw me, because he increased his pace as he led them over to my corner. Even though I couldn't make out any features in the glass, I inherently knew it was him in the lead. I could look at the indistinct reflection and see my power at work inside him. I could see the "shape" of the power I'd given him, showing me what he could do and how it was slowly Decaying down to nothing with time.
Most importantly, I could see how far my influence had woven itself into his mind. I hadn't been lying when I told him I wasn't looking for a yes man, and I certainly wasn't looking for a zombie. I'd been very careful when seeding him with the power. At its current level? Not enough to compromise his faculties to any noticeable degree, but it was still subtly bolstering his gratitude to me. Not enforcing, merely reinforcing what was already there into something slightly more… dependable.
It had been, sadly, unavoidable. I'd preferred no mental tampering at all, but there were Rules to the power that had to be followed, just like how flying capes couldn't browbeat their shards into levitating objects other than themselves.
Not without trump assistance, anyway.
"…hen are we meeting with your boss?" I overheard one of the men saying as they approached. The conversation they were having trailed off as they stopped behind me, waiting for me to respond to their presence. I let them wait for a moment, letting them anticipate my response.
"…Who have you brought me, my friend?" I drawled after a moment, careful to avoid using his name.
"Interested parties, Sir. As you requested." Callum's voice was cool and even, with an edge of deference, subtly selling the idea I was someone with authority. His power, I was certain, was giving him a good idea of what to say and do to help me build my case.
"…I see," I responded as I scanned the group through their reflection in the window.
Even just by seeing his reflection, I could tell Cal was looking… better since I'd seen him last. More animated, more energetic. The specifics of each power in my arsenal were still alien to me, but I'd made sure to explain the gist of what he stood to gain and lose once he accepted my deal.
In exchange for power, the recipient of my "gift" lost a bit of their… volition. At low levels, the effects were only slightly noticeable, to the degree the gifted could still function on their own. At high levels, exposure to my power was supposed to turn people into drooling zombies, or unquestioning automatons.
Cal was neither an unquestioning robot nor a zombie. In the paused second during which we'd shaken hands, I'd taken my time selecting and applying his power so that the effect was more… indirect. Something that took the edge off his negative emotions, giving him a temporary sense of well-being. Something more akin to the heroine my canon counterpart employed during his epilogue. Still himself, just not entirely himself. Callum, minus the "bad parts".
The negativity, to be specific.
He'd been anxious, hesitant to the point I was afraid he might back out right up until we shook hands... But afterwards he'd been ecstatic, downright eager to get to work. Unfortunately, his sunken eyes and the other physical injuries that came from days of self-neglect couldn't be as easily smoothed over as the mental scars. He'd graduated from the appearance of a zombie to that of a stereotypical henchman, with sunken eyes and a slightly stooped posture.
Hey, we all took what we could get.
While I could tell Cal was barely concealing his excitement the rest of the group, however, seemed mainly confused. Not surprising. I'd strictly told Callum to tell them only that "a powerful cape in need of extra hands is hiring", nothing more.
"Uh… Excuse me?" a tall man in the middle of the pack coughed. "There seems to have been some sort of mistake. We're supposed to be meeting with a-?"
"-Cape?" I finished for him. "Yes. That is correct."
I let them digest that a minute before continuing.
Now, I know this wasn't the most… dramatic of introductions. I wasn't sitting behind a desk in some dimly lit swanky office straight out of a mafia movie, or a dark alley where I could dramatically emerge from the shadows and surprise everyone. We were in a well-lit public library and I was still wearing the same dirty casualwear that marked me a refugee, same as the rest of them.
On top of that, the big guy looming at the rear of the pack had at least a foot of height on me, kind of undercutting my awe factor a bit.
But if my education had taught me nothing else, I knew how to project confidence and to sell. How to sell a product, yes, but even more importantly to sell myself. Selling the idea I had enough authority on the subject to influence the customer's buying choice. In this case, I was selling the idea I was indeed a cape with a power to be respected.
Rule Two of the Game of Life: Act like you have authority, believe it even, and other people will believe it too.
"I find little reason to stand on theatrics and ceremony here," I bluffed, tone casual, confident. "Not when there are pressing matters to attend to. Your living conditions, the rising cape sightings and last but not least… the dangerous sentiments revealed by that farce of a town hall."
The reflections of a few members of the crowd shifted uncomfortably. Even if they weren't there personally, I didn't need to be a precog to know word was spreading like wildfire of the Protectorate's screwup. It might even go viral, if the PRT's media connections didn't somehow kill the story first.
"We're all busy men, so I'll cut straight to the heart of the matter: You've likely come to the same conclusion as I, that this town is a sinking ship. If you're going to avoid going under with it when the situation worsens further -and trust me, it will- you will need money. The job I have in mind will give you no shortage of that."
I flexed my fingers as I paused. "Money, and… other things."
The confusion had largely died away, the group watching me with rapt attention.
I watched as another member of the crowd standing to my friend's left cleared their throat and approached. "It's um… it's nice to meet you sir," the figure said with a woman's voice. Her hand extended toward me. "My name's-"
"-It's best if we don't use names," I cut her off sharply, but not too harshly. "Not until we feel comfortable working with each other."
The woman's reflection withdrew its hand as if it had been burned. I saw her turn her head away, her body language advertising her embarrassment. "S-sorry."
"If we're not using our names, what are we supposed to call you?" It was a different woman's voice that asked this question. Gruffer, tougher.
"You may call me…" I slowly turned around to face them. "… Teacher."
Yes, I'd checked with Cal, then double-checked Parahumans Online for good measure. There wasn't a villain by the name of Teacher anywhere out there, neither in Washington or in the UK. It appeared by all accounts that I'd totally replaced the "canon" Benjamin Terrell in the narrative, powers and all.
Yes, I'd realized awhile ago that calling myself Benjamin Terrell before I could confirm my predecessor's existence was a stupid move that could have backfired on me in countless ways. Even still, it had been the first name that had come out of my mouth when my "friend circle" in Tent City had asked for my name. Somehow, in a way I couldn't explain, it only seemed proper that the holder of this power had that name.
It felt… right.
Most of the group seemed impressed by me just coming right out with my face. Normally I'd be concerned I'd be opening myself up to someone telling people what I look like, but between my power's particular's and Cal's power, I was confident this group wouldn't think to do that after tonight. As it stood, the fact I wasn't even attempting to conceal my face seemed to add to the illusion I was so powerful it didn't even matter.
"That accent… An American? Here?" someone in the rear of the group muttered to themselves before being shushed.
"'Teacher', huh?" A dark-skinned man with a bandana covering his hair snorted as he looked me up in down. "C'mon... is this really the guy?"
I frowned. I didn't need any challenges to my authority, not this soon. I glanced at Callum, whose eyes were wide. Whatever his expectations for this meeting were supposed to be, I highly suspected this wasn't part of them.
"H-hey," the young girl who'd tried to touch me protested weakly.
The brown-haired young woman looked like she'd had the misfortune of wearing of white shirt when we washed up here, and for whatever reason had made the unfortunate choice of continuing to wear it afterwards. Now, it was stained green and brown from a mix of mud and filthy water, almost looking like camouflage.
"That's really rude, man. I mean, after he invited us all here. Especially if he really-"
"-Really has powers?" I finished for her. I looked at the man and matched his gaze. "Do you doubt that I do?"
I took a step forward. Satisfyingly, the group took a collective step back. Like Cal, they knew that whether it was true or not, you didn't challenge someone who claimed to have powers. They were either lying and crazy or they were telling the truth. In either case, they were effectively a walking can of worms you did not want to open.
"If you doubt that I have powers, I'm curious as to why you bothered coming." Nobody stopped me as I continued speaking, which I took as a good sign. "I'm certain you're all curious at least, what it is that I can do… more specifically what I can do for you. I suspect you hoped that by working for me, you'd be able to make your dreams of escaping this horrible place come true, right?"
I pointed at Callum. "In fact, I know it because if you didn't agree, you wouldn't have been chosen to come here. That is the power of our friend here: the ability to inherently sense and seek out those with the potential to be useful to me"
The Cal I was familiar with would probably have been visibly flustered at suddenly becoming the center of attention. But with my "gift", Cal barely paid their incredulous looks any mind, only smiling pleasantly and slightly sticking his chest out in response. Most of the crowd seemed skeptical, but several were looking at Callum in a new light.
I looked at the power hovering over his head, the second one I'd ever given out:
Uncanny Intuition.
Cal's power made him a social thinker on the low-end of the scale. The branch of the Library that housed his "gift" contained abilities that could be classified as close-but-not-quite the same as Tattletale's. At first glance it allowed him skim surface information such as judging one's intent or determining their personality type. And, if given enough time, he could formulate a good guess of what needed to be said to sway them.
It sounded more impressive than it actually was, sadly, but a superpower was a superpower, nonetheless.
There were drawbacks, of course. Heavy drawbacks, but they were manageable enough we both considered the price worthwhile.
His power bestowed, I sent Cal back to camp with his newfound skill at intuiting people's desires and motivations. My biggest fear, that I'd make my offer to someone who'd double-cross me or turn me in, was no longer an issue with his power in play. I told him to seek out the desperate, those who would jump at the opportunity to make some cash with no questions asked...But who would also be loyal towards a person who could save them from their situation.
Perfect potential henchmen, basically.
The dark-skinned man averted his eyes, mollified. Probably still skeptical I had powers but unwilling to goad me further in a public place. Especially if I was telling the truth.
"Alright 'Teacher'," a different woman said. "Assuming you have powers, what do you want with us?"
I looked her over a moment. She wasn't attractive by any margin, the polar opposite of the young girl that had spoken up first. Small, squat, about a decade older than me. Just a bit shorter than I was, with a face that seemed to rest in a permanent scowl. She had a big round nose, thick round glasses and one of those thick bowl cuts that I could never understand how some people found them attractive.
I was reminded a bit of the description of Rachel Lindt, but I suspected that at least unlike Bitch -and believe me, "bitch" was the first word that came to mind when I saw her- this woman would be more inclined to give a more verbal beat down than a physical one. More pudge than muscle, there.
I decided to go with a mostly truthful answer. "Right now, I want your help with a job, nothing more."
"This sounds dangerous," the middle member of a trio of well-built older teens remarked, before his cohorts shushed him. There were wearing clothes with the same color scheme. The first wore a red sweater with grey t-shirt, the second a grey jacket with red undershirt, and the third wore a red hoodie with a grey emblem on the breast. Either some sort of school uniform or a fraternity.
The same was true for most of the group, I realized as I looked them over. Instead of a shady band of cutthroats one might imagine when thinking of the description "power-hungry", the group were all young or middle aged men and women, who simply looked tired and hungry. Good on Callum for fulfilling his mission while recognizing that sort of crowd was one I didn't want to be publicly affiliated with. Except for one: a tall, bearded, middle aged man in the back dressed in leather. Huh.
"…It might be," I answered. "It also might, as most of you have already likely suspected, not be entirely legal."
I smiled coolly, in what I hoped would look like a display of collected confidence. "It is still, however, a task I'm certain will be relatively low-risk, high-reward for a trial run of this group."
I extended my hands to the palms raised upwards in an open invitation to take them. Again, the group backed up, not knowing what to expect.
"If any of you doubt your ability to be useful to me, fear not. For I can make you useful. For I am a cape with an ability like no other. I have been granted the power… to bestow powers upon others."
I continued before any of them could say a word, but their faces already showed their shock… and their eyes their hunger. "Work for me, and I will give each of you a superpower. In exchange, you will be expected to follow my orders to the letter until tonight's job is completed."
"You can hand out powers?" The older man in the back of the group spoke up, his arms folded over his chest. With his salt-and-pepper beard and tattooed arms, he looked like a stereotypical biker. "Just like that?"
"Just like that." I nodded.
I shot a glance at Cal out of the corner of my eye. I'd hoped he'd give me some sort of sign of what his power was telling him, some piece of information that would make this sale easier…. But he just shrugged back at me, a gesture I could interpret in any number of ways.
We'd need to have a talk later about communication.
"…However," I continued with barely noticeable hesitation. "I'll tell you now that the powers I hand out are mental rather than physical ones. Sorry to disappoint those of you looking to fly or breathe fire. Although I'm confident you'll still be more than satisfied with what you gain tonight regardless."
"What's the catch?" The ugly woman chimed back in.
"Only that while you have your power, you will do as I say." I answered carefully. "If, upon the completion of tonight's job and receiving your pay, you don't believe the risk is worth the reward… that will be that. We'll shake hands and part ways as friends. Of course, you will also be several thousand dollars richer and boasting a few days' worth of superpowers. My parting gift to you in exchange for an evening of your time."
"Days?" stained shirt girl spoke up. "The superpowers aren't permanent?"
"Not yet, no." I shook my head slowly. "A more permanent arrangement might become possible in the future, once I better understand your individual strengths and weaknesses. However, the powers I bestow upon you tonight will likely only remain with you for a few days, a week at most. Past that point, they will gradually grow more and more unreliable before eventually fizzling out entirely."
Before any more questions could be asked, I held up my hands in a placating gesture. "You need to understand that the nature of my power would attract a great deal of attention if it became well known. People would seek me out to take advantage of me. Some might even attempt to kill me to prevent me from turning against them. If we find tonight that we don't work well together, you'll still have gained the resources needed to go your own way… but good luck convincing whoever you might report me to to come after me when your power runs out and you're left without proof this transaction ever took place."
I once more extended my hands. "If any of you have lingering doubts as to my legitimacy as a cape… then why not just shake my hand, and watch the magic happen?" I smiled. "What do you have to lose? If I'm lying, you can always just go back to your little tent and hope the PRT can take care of you. But if I'm telling the truth…"
I let that hang in the air for a moment, watching the crowd to see who would be the first one to take me up on my offer. After a few moments of hesitation, the member of the teenage trio with the hoodie came forward, with only one of his friends making a token attempt to stop him, a gesture he aborted halfway through.
Even before he fully gripped my hand, the instant his skin touched my own the Connection between us was formed. The Library once again opened, and once again I could feel things were different. The shelves unlocked. In what felt like half a second since we'd Connected, I'd already scrolled through the rows and found the power I wanted to bestow for my demonstration.
Again, I pulled the "book" from the shelf without any resistance at all. And like strumming a guitar string, I once again felt the twang as the power shot outwards from my "core", travelled along the Connection between me and my new Student, and finally embedded itself deep inside him.
Limited Precognition: Immediate
His eyes widened as he released my grip and stepped backwards. I knew he'd felt the Connection too, the rush of power.
He was no longer a bystander. He was one of mine. A Student.
I'd already made the decision to call my subordinates "Students", because screw calling them "thralls". One title implied they were my employees, the other implied they were my slaves. I wasn't interested in developing a reputation as a bad boss, especially not a mind controlling one. I was going to be upfront and honest in my dealings.
…Eeeexcept for the "potentially mind control at high doses" part of my power. That was something I foresaw making most people run far, far away from a deal with me. But that was a problem for another time, after I'd shown them that I could be trusted to not abuse that power.
My Student seemed dazed for a moment, and I briefly feared that I'd given him a bit too much to handle. But just a moment later, his expression regained focus. After a few seconds of "settling in", the mote of power reported it was functioning normally.
"I feel-"
"How do you-?"
Both of us blinked. I realized he'd started answering my question before I'd even started asking it. The rest of the group looked confused as to what was happening. With the exception of Cal, whose widened eyes and hitched breathing revealed he'd already intuited what I'd just done.
I pulled a coin out of my pocket and flipped it. "Call it," I ordered. At the command, the young man's eyes locked onto the small metal disk with a speed and intensity that almost surprised me.
My powers, it seemed, were very eager to please.
"Heads," he said as I flipped the coin. Correct.
"Tails." Correct.
"Tails." Correct.
"Tails. Tails. Heads. Heads".
Correct. Correct. Correct. Correct.
It seemed to take a moment for it to sink in, but the young man's eyes went wide. He seemed to tremble with excitement, and a wild grin began to spread across his face as he realized he was no longer simply human: he was a parahuman.
…In a sense, anyway.
"Congratulations," I said as much for the benefit of my new Student as the rest of the group. "You've gained the power to see the future."
"N-!" one of the young man's friends began to say.
"Yes way, man!" my Student exclaimed. He looked at his hands. "I… I can feel it! I feel the power in my head!"
"W-what's it like?" the teen girl asked, eyes wide.
The young man's hands started trembling. "I feel like… Like I'm awake now. Like I just remembered how to do something I should have always been able to do. Like my whole life I had a third arm, and now just realized it was always there. It's… it's amazing!"
Cal's smile grew wider as he and I shared a look. So far, so good.
"I am glad you're pleased," I smiled, even as I was fervently taking mental notes.
It was important to know how the powers interacted with my Students. It would help me gauge the average person's endurance to the different degrees of mental strain, not to mention the effect it would have on their willingness to help me.
The boy started laughing.
"Shh!" Callum said, peering around to make sure my Student kept his voice down.
The Student instantly shut his mouth with a snap, but his excitement wouldn't abate. A moment later, he looked a bit scandalized and turned to the man with the bandana.
"You-!" the man started accusingly, pointing at me.
"-We didn't set this up!"
The skeptic blinked and took a step back, shocked as everyone else now.
I frowned. Hm. It seemed like the 'max accuracy' setting for immediate precognition only gave a few second's worth of warning, perhaps a minute or two. If I ramped it up any further, I feared the Toll to cognition was going to cross over into noticeable territory. As it stood, potentially useful in the right situation, but the practical applications were… rather limited. Something I'd have to take into consideration later.
"It is true," I confirmed. I offered the coin to the group. "Feel free to test it yourself if you aren't convinced we didn't coordinate this in advance. But… wouldn't it just be easier to try my ability for yourselves?"
My Student, wide eyed, urged my critic on. "Try it man! Go on, I'm telling you he's for real!"
My power was barely doing anything to encourage him. Barely even a nudge in the direction of trusting me. He was just that excited to have something good happen to him for a change, and I honestly couldn't blame him.
I'd been prepared for more than a few people to seem disappointed that my student's superpower was "only" the ability to see a few seconds ahead into the future. However, there were only looks of amazement. Open awe on the younger members, only slightly better concealed on those of the full-grown adults. The prospect of acquiring powers, even rather limited ones, was a tempting one to those who had nothing to start.
My "Student's" encouragement was all it took. A moment later, the man who'd been my critic pushed through the crowd, gripping for my hand. When he reached me, he didn't take the coin. Rather, he grabbed my entire outstretched palm with both hands in a vice grip.
True Sight: X-ray Vision
'Since you want to see through me so badly, try this on for size.'
The man blinked owlishly as I held contact an extra second, just enough to like to power burrow an inch deeper. He looked at me, then past me. Then at the group. Then out the window. Then back at me. He looked at me again… right up until I realized he was looking through me.
"How many fingers am I holding up?" I said as I clutched a hand behind my back. Next to me, Callum grinned.
He knew I had him.
He didn't bother with the test. With trembling lips he slowly turned and looked to the others. "It's… it's real."
With eleven pairs of hungry eyes upon me, I grinned and spread my hands wide. "So. Who's next?"
There was a rush and flurry of motion, as my new Students stumbled and shoved each other in their efforts to reach me.