Silas watched with a smile as his various pawns did their work, the productive and worthy leading the corrupt and broken. A proper chain where the merit of one's soul decides your role within the world. Even his recent acquisitions have been smooth. Various instinctive fighters, employees of his most recent purchase, all being sorted based on their actual talent instead of their connections. No one plotting to compromise the company for personal gain as they would be reduced to jobbers in a mere moment. As he watched this, he heard one of them speak to him, "I heard you were the new boss. Sorry I was late, but my security shift ran long."

Silas nodded, speaking in the same corporate manner he had so many others, "I apologize for requesting you out here but I prefer to get to know all of the talent personally." He snapped his fingers, surprised that this mind seemed to be more carefully formed. Diving in, he stepped into an empty arena. The ring in the center was well arranged and there stood the man he was just speaking to. The man was wearing shades under the many spotlights, a short sleeved black shirt that clung to his toned muscles, and despite what should limit his movement, he wore rather thick dark blue jeans. He was running the ropes of the ring, his padded gloves gripping the ropes each time he made contact. Waving his arms to fill the seats with an excited audience, Silas walked to the ring, lifting his arms to form a ramp for him to walk into the ring without needing to do more than step through the ropes. The man had a very passive demeanor. Good, he had a moldable mind. Silas spoke regally, "I see your mind is always on your business. I imagine you take it quite seriously. What if I could help you get the recognition you deserve?" He paced around the man, confident in his power, "I can help you achieve your goals. I simply need to assess the quality of your-"

"Is this all you can do?" Silas paused, not used to such an interruption, let alone someone recognizing what he was doing. The man spoke again, "Your snap got my attention. I got curious. But is this your great trick? Stepping into someone's mind and re-shaping it?" Silas narrowed his eyes and snapped his fingers, the ropes of the ring coming to life and encircling the man. Held in place by the tension in the ropes and all lights beating down on the man, Silas expected this to set the tone of the conversation. Change this odd demeanor. Instead, as though there weren't ropes choking the life out of him, the man stated, "I understand now. You are a telepath. Able to control the mind. But if this is all you can do, I'm afraid you can't win."

Silas paused, smiled, and began to laugh, "Well, EXCUSE ME!! It appears I have stepped on the toes of the ONLY ONE to ever withstand my powers!" His laugh became manic, revealing that his comments were mere sarcasm. What intoxicating foolishness! He was to be Emperor of the New World! What could this man possibly do against him. "Your arrogance is almost admirable. You truly think that you can do what no one else has?"

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The man lifted his arms slowly despite the tension in the ropes, removing his shades and stating as though it is fact, "Once I know how someone fights, they can no longer win." His steely blue eyes removed Silas mirth entirely. These were not the eyes of an egomaniac or a fool. For the first time, Silas saw his own certainty in the eyes of another person. Total control. But this had to be a bluff. Humans cannot act without their minds. Their minds are his to shape. There is no exception. Even here, the man didn't say that the powers didn't work on him. Both of them could see he was able to freely shape the man's mind. But this expression, here in the man's most sacred of mental sanctums... unwilling to take risks, Silas motioned to the large screen above the ramp and saw the countless matches this man had had. There were obviously scripted ones, but even outside of official wrestling, his claim proved true. He would receive horrendous beatings only to become untouchable as the fight went on. And each time he seemed placid. Calm. Never once fearing death or pain. But there was something else...

He had never seen the man lose his shades. Not even in the worst circumstances. And the more Silas tried to dig into the man's mind the harder and harder it became. Somehow this man was curating what Silas was able to access. "HOW!?!? How are you able to do this?!"

Despite not truly wanting an answer, the man walked up to Silas as though the ropes didn't exist at all, "I can't do what you do, but I'm a fast learner. And I have learned enough to know that if I tell you my technique, you will try to rip it out. Do you want to walk into my trap or would you rather stop while you are ahead?"

Silas left the man's mind, a cold sweat covering his body, his assistant checking him for a fever in a panic. His shades still resting on his physical body protected Silas from his cold gaze. The man approached Silas slowly before stating firmly, "I appreciate your personal attention, but I decide my career. Book me how you see fit and go clean or I'll have to take care of you myself." The man then turned and left the mansion, not a single ounce of emotion leaving him. Silas, chilled to his bone, realized something he had not before. He was not the only one made from the stuff of myths. And he would not be able to simply take over the world without resistance on his powers alone.