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"Fuck!"

The scream sent what little animal life had bravely remained through the battle fleeing. Birds took to the air, looking for calmer places to roost, while critters scurried through the underbrush.

I didn't want to kill him like this. He should have kept his mouth shut.

James would have still killed Hopkins, but only after extracting all the information he could from him. This was an opportunity he'd probably never have again.

Two humans who had gone too far, who no one would miss. He had his perfect lab rats to experiment with his psychic abilities. And instead, he'd gone and killed one of them in a fit of rage.

Turning his attention to the remaining captive, James sighed. He'd need to think deeply about why he had lost his mind there. But now was not the time.

He lifted and brought his foot down on Knowles' right leg, which the man had just finished healing, earning a scream.

"You must think me stupid. Why would I let you heal after I went through all the effort to injure you?" He asked rhetorically.

Knowles, now clearly terrified, tried to crawl away, his eyes wide with fear as he realized that James was not going to be swayed by pleas or excuses. His breath came in ragged gasps, pain etched into every line of his face. But beyond that, there was a deep, palpable fear of the man standing before him.

James paced along the clearing for a while, allowing the remnants of his anger to dissipate. He knew he needed a clear head for what would come next. Finally, feeling more in control, he sat before Knowles, who flinched at the movement.

"Please," Knowles began, his voice barely above a whisper. "It... it was all Hopkins. He's the one who... who planned everything. I was just... just along for the ride."

James looked at him, his expression unreadable. "We'll see," he replied flatly.

With that, he reached out with his mind, brushing against Knowles' consciousness. He felt the man's natural mental barriers, weak and the sign of a man who had let himself go too often. James pushed against them and they crumbled easily, laying bare the secrets Knowles had kept hidden.

James had never delved so deeply inside a man's mind. The furthest he had gone was with Donovan; even then, he had left his manipulations at the surface level.

With Knowles, he had no compunction. All his hesitation about human rights and the sanctity of one's mind was gone.

Images flashed by as he went deeper. Just like Bianca had told him, Knowles was less of a monster than his companion, but only in the sense that he hadn't actively done as much harm to innocents.

Passively, he had allowed atrocities of all kinds to happen without batting an eye.

Hopkins abusing a young woman and then disposing of her body. Hopkins leading a new Awakener into a trap and gloating over his dying form. Theft, embezzlement, kidnapping, they had done it all.

Knowles was the kind of man who didn't care about anyone else. He wouldn't go out of his way to hurt innocents if he couldn't gain anything, but even when it happened before his eyes, he'd simply shrug and think they were just unlucky.

Less disgusting but still relevant were his own crimes. Knowles had a weakness for gambling and apparently had a significant debt with an underground group that managed the shady dealings of Miami.

To pay for that debt, the tank had more than once sold information about his comrades and movements from the AA and even once participated in a heist on a mana stone containment facility.

Again, he felt no remorse. They were all actions he thought necessary to protect his interests.

James felt disgusted. While Knowles wasn't as bad as his companion, he was the kind of man who could be ordered to do anything without batting an eye. It wouldn't take long before the criminal elements of Miami had him begin to commit true atrocities.

Diving into older memories, James tried to find some related to his father. Michael Summers was a memorable figure, and he doubted time would have weakened the impression he made.

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It took longer than he expected, but eventually, he found them. Knowles seemed to feel a thin thread of shame regarding the death of his old comrades, which was surprising given the lack of reaction to all he had seen and done.

But this might be one of the origins of his lack of emotions. If he realized just how disgusting his actions were, he might have started suppressing everything to avoid confronting his sins.

A memory came closer, and James allowed it to unfold.

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The choking smoke of burning buildings and destroyed cars used as shields. The broken asphalt under his feet. The comforting weight of his body armor and a rifle in his hands.

Knowles appeared much younger. He was in shape, for one, and there was a light in his eyes that was absent when James met him despite the situation he was in.

He, Hopkins, and Michael Summers were taking shelter behind a large piece of rubble. The rest of their team was either dead or taking shelter in another position. The roars of monsters echoed through the streets, and Knowles gulped.

He knew it was his duty to charge forward and fight them, but their first attempt led to their companion squad's annihilation. Watching the professional soldiers get chewed on by a gigantic Ogre would remain with him for a long time.

"We need to leave." Summers said. He was always the first in a fight and the last to leave. It seemed that nothing could shake him.

"There are still some civilians left in that building," Hopkins said, gesturing to one of the few still standing after the Ogre rampage.

"If you keep the way clear and watch my back, I'll go in and begin to evacuate them," Summers replied, adjusting his helmet.

"Are you crazy? If you get out in the open, that thing's gonna eat you. You saw what it did to the others!" Knowles said.

Summers shrugged. "It's what we are here for. If we don't even try to save them, we are scum. We accepted the risks when we took this job."

He seemed unruffled, as if the possibility of a twenty-foot monster snatching him up and eating him didn't send shivers down his spine.

Considering that Summers was the only one of the three without powers, Knowles felt justified in thinking the man was insane.

"If you have a death wish, you shouldn't drag us into it. Staying here means dying. We need to leave." Hopkins replied with intensity. At least someone still had a working brain.

"I have a family to go back to, just like the two of you," Summers replied in an even tone. "But it's exactly because of that that I cannot abandon these people. There are probably kids in there. We need to try at least."

Knowles grimaced. He'd die playing the hero. Luckily, Hopkins seemed to think the same because he caught his eyes and gestured for him to go along with whatever he was about to say.

Hopkins then made a scene of sighing, "Alright, but we'll only take as many people as it's feasible. If we need to run, we run."

Summers gave them a small smile, standing up, "I knew you'd see it my way." And with that, he was off.

"What are we gonna do?" Knowles asked, clutching his rifle.

"We have our bait. Now we just need to lead the monster to it." Hopkins replied, eyes hooded. Silently, he waited until Summers emerged with a dozen people. They were all in various states of injury.

He lifted his rifle and aimed high. Their position was revealed to the monster hunting them with a burst of fire. A roar followed. The two Awakeners then turned around and started running. The nearby teammates, who had watched the operation unfold, also started running, not sparing Summers a look.

Their radios rang several times with requests for help. Summers' voice came through repeatedly, each time more fatigued and desperate as he tried to save his quarries from the monster.

Hopkins and Knowles never looked back.

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James emerged from the memory feeling empty. It would take him a while to begin processing what he had seen. Instead, he turned to continue his exploration.

Strands of consciousness were revealed once James pushed even deeper. He instinctively understood these were the main pillars of the man's personality. Some were thin and others thick, and by getting closer to each, James could get a general idea of what they were about.

One of the smaller ones was what he realized was the man's empathy. It was almost nonexistent, which wasn't a surprise. James grabbed it out of curiosity and began funneling some of the sparse energy floating around the area to it.

Slowly, it thickened, gaining vigor, until it was as big as some of the largest ones. A shudder went through the entire mind as the fundamentals of Knowles' personality were reworked.

Already, James could see the mind begin to work on restoring itself to its original state. It would take hours and possibly days before the strand returned to what it was, but it was interesting to realize just how deeply he could affect someone.

After what felt like an eternity, James withdrew from Knowles' mind. He wanted to see if his changes significantly affected the man's behavior despite what his rational mind should be telling him.

Blinking back, he found Knowles curled up in a ball, fat tears running down his cheeks. It was something the man hadn't done since he was six and he broke his arm, which went to show just how deeply James had affected him with his manipulation.

"Do you feel remorse now?" He asked curiously.

"How?! How could I do that?! How could I stand there and watch? How could I sell my comrades?!" Knowles screamed back, eyes wild and unfocused.

James hummed, watching as the man broke down, sobbing in earnest.

He had gotten an interesting result, but something told him it wasn't perfect. A peek into the man's mind explained why. It was too chaotic, as a storm of energy rippled through it. Unknowingly, he must have affected something in his manipulation, which led to the current state.

James didn't know if it would be enough to leave him like he was for the man to return to normal. There were signs of the strand he had empowered weakening, but would the rest settle once it was done? He didn't know and couldn't deny being curious.

But that would take too long. James didn't mind experimenting on the man, but he wouldn't prolong the suffering beyond what was strictly necessary.

With a sigh, he concentrated. A telekinetic ripple appeared before him, becoming increasingly visible with time. A thin nail took shape until the air around it began to vibrate, unable to contain its power.

With a wave of his hand, James sent the nail forward. A sonic boom sent him staggering back, followed by an explosion that made him lose his balance.

Pieces of the ground rained down upon him for a few seconds, with strands of grass fluttering in the air while he stood protected under a telekinetic shield he had summoned out of instinct.

Blinking back at the mess he made, James took in the scene.

"Ah, now there are two headless corpses. I'm getting too predictable, but I'd make a decent serial killer."

He let out a long, deep breath, attempting to calm the waves of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. He realized there was a distinct difference between planning retribution and executing it. The satisfaction of vengeance was intertwined with a complex web of other feelings - relief, sorrow for his father, and an unsettling emptiness.

Sitting down amidst the ruined clearing, James allowed himself a moment to breathe. The adrenaline that had fueled him dissipated, leaving behind a stark clarity. He spoke out loud, if only to hear something other than the silence. "You were disgusting people." He said to the two corpses, "Your deaths won't bring him back, but every breath you took was an insult. You deserved it."