"Now then," After a short silence the old man started speaking again, he seemed... Cheerful? She didn't know how else to call it but ever since she had agreed to help he had cheered up to normal levels. On top of that he was talking in an almost cheerful tone, having that little quick- and loudness that she had not heard before "I suppose I will give you something to work on for the coming months, you will need all the help you can get to complete this quest. As you know I'm an expert in the activation of psionic abilities in children, sadly ones the age of ten is passed the mind is no longer moldable enough to exert the abilities needed energy. Thankfully for Travelers this is not the case, your mind can learn all that is new and difficult in this universe up to whatever age you wish, so I will help you. To activate it faster and to use it more efficient, first of all I will need to know what aptitude you have in mental fortitude?" he looked at her with some anticipation, excited even. She looked back, still a little confused to see the sad old man excited, but then replied with a short "four point eight." He stared at her a little, blinked a couple of times and then smiled again and said "That's great, I have never heard of anyone that came even close, most of the kids here where around three. This should be easy for you. Of course, only with a lot of practice can psionics ever be more than a cool party trick. But when you do master the art, you would be able to move a planet out of its orbit or disintegrate anything by separating the molecules that bind them, or manipulate machines playing tricks on their information feeds, or power supply. But first I want you to close your eyes and focus." He stopped talking and waited for Sophie to do as he asked.
Sophie just stared at the man, disintegrate something by separating molecules? This is going to be so awesome!! Who needs swords or guns if you can just touch them and make them nonexistent! Not that she wanted to go on a murder spree or anything, but if a body could be disintegrated so could an attacking sword or bullet. Or just moving it to the side while you punched some sense in them. She closed her eyes and waited for further instructions. As she closed her eyes, she felt a flick against her nose. She yelped a little and opened her eyes again, looking with a betrayed expression to the old man who was smiling back at her, she rubbed her nose and asked "What was that all about". He smiled even broader at that and replied "That is the first thing everyone says and I always reply with: if you don't like it then focus more, focus on your surroundings, try to see without looking" he gave her a secretive smile and then told her to close her eyes again. She did, even though she gave him a little scrutinizing look.
They continued like this for another half hour, her nose had now become red and painful and she was rubbing it again after another finger flick of the old man. He was still smiling at her, and she was scowling back at him "Didn't you say this was supposed to be easy for me?" he laughed a little at that and said, a little apologetic "It is, I'm normally flicking a child nose around an hour a day for around 3 months before they develop any sort of comprehension. But we don't have that long so I'm flicking your nose harder." she looked at him and murmured underneath her breath "Goddamn impatience, nothing but pain," the man laughed at that and then advised "You know, the energy in your mind now is miniscule, the connections your brain makes by using neurons, their axons that bring the nuclei's messages towards other neurons nuclei over a synaptic gap and the energy that is released through the transport of those messages can be holstered. This energy is not something tangible, it does not show up on MRI, fMRI or any other brain related test of validity. But it is there and can be pooled in a central location in the brain, right under the amygdala and thalamus. But for now, I need you to holster the energy and SEE what you cannot see. Use the energy and form it into a sixth sense." He was done talking again, and Sophie was no closer than when he started talking. She understood what he meant, and half understood the words he used, but to use an energy that is not tangible is like making your blood float the opposite direction. Or moving a third arm. Maybe she should imagine it like that? A third arm? Ignoring the obvious joke in those thoughts she nodded her head and closed her eyes again.
The next thirty minutes her nose slowly turned blue and she may or may not have felt like kicking the old man in the shins but at some point, she felt there was a change. She seemed to notice that the old man put his hand in front of her face and focused on the finger, but could do nothing more than notice a little more when the exact time was when the finger moved. Another half hour and her nose actually started bleeding but neither the girl nor the man relented on their task. She focused with all she had and still it was difficult, she could now "see the finger" but pushing against it was much harder. It was hard to explain how she saw it without looking. It was a little like looking at your phone in a crowded street and looking up in time to stop yourself from walking into someone or something. You didn't know you had seen the coming danger, but you did react. She didn't know how she felt the presence of the finger but she knew how to react. Somewhere past the two hour mark she was beginning to get exhausted, but kept going, she focused with all her strength on the finger, willing it to halt, willing it to listen to her command, willing it away from her bruised and abused nose and then it finally happened. She never really noticed, but the finger changed course and hit her cheek. The old man smiled and mumbled something, a system message, but everything around her turned black and she passed out, utterly exhausted.
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When she woke up the old man was still sitting at his desk, gently smiling at her. She felt drowsy, a little nauseous even. The moment the old man began speaking to her she didn't really hear him all that well over the sound of the sea in her ears. "First of all," the old man said laughing "Congratulations, you are now a member of the psionics club. Second of all you didn't tell me you saw my hand and went on to moving my finger, which is indeed the next step but for reasons you might now see as obvious, it is not smart not to take a break in between. I do commend your learning curve though and persistence. That was one great surprise you gave me." she looked at him with some grogginess in her eyes and croaked with a not so steady voice "Why do I feel like a train run me down?". The old man laughed and said "Do you remember when I said that the energy you now possess is miniscule? You drew too much and your brain was starved as a consequence. If you draw way too much you might even die, always be careful of that." he kept smiling at her like a grandpa who sees his granddaughters first steps, proud and happy. She groaned as she tried to move her body, her hand slipped over the desk and towards her nose, rubbing it, her nose was still a throbbing. She slowly got up and asked "So what now?", with that his smile disappeared "Now Sophie, the time has come for you to take my life so that I can find my peace." Startled she looked at the old man, the silence in the air became palpable, thick, she scraped her throat and said "Why? Can't we just stay here for a little longer?" He looked at her half smiling, a deep sadness slowly creeping into his eyes "This place does not allow me to leave and I have been here already for far too long. You are the only one that can relieve me off my duty." he was quiet for a while, his tearful eyes regaining a sense of pride, a sense of recognition, before continuing with "The others will have similar request. Steel your heart for this journey will not be one of heroism but of harsh reality."
She looked at him, her head still felt full with wool, the grogginess did not go away quick enough to her liking. She slowly nodded, her eyes turning from unfocussed and a little watery, to the sharpness they normally contained, mixed in was a hatred she felt for those that had enslaved this gentle and kind man, and fear for the job he asked her. Her mouth set itself in a tight line, the skin around her cheeks slightly paling. Her hands balled into tight fist, the gloves of her space suite being the only reason her nails had not dug into her palms. She looked at the old man, Camron Bell, he looked back, calm, accepting, relieved and anticipating. She nodded her head, stiff from the tension and lack of energy, equipping her plasma gun, "Thank you for teaching me, thank you for your story, I will take it with me and make sure you are not forgotten. Do you have any last words or requests?" she said softly, trying not to cry, trying to let him leave with dignity, not pity.
He gave a slow smile and touched her face, before whispering in his characteristically soft voice "I am not the only one, there are far more, I can only hope you will help them as you helped me during these final moments of my life" he looked down and a tear rolled down his wrinkled cheek and into his white beard, the smile hardly present anymore on his face but still burning bright in his eyes. "No more" he croaked, almost pleading. Sophie brought her gun up and took aim, her hands shaking, the tip of the gun following the pattern. She swallowed, closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. As the gun splurged its contents, the old man's head exploded like a volcano, painting the walls, desk and Sophie with blood, bone and brain matter. She tried to turn her head but by the time she did so the damage was already done and she was now staring at the headless body. Her hands hadn't stopped shaking and her eyes were like a deer looking into its final headlights, she stared blankly at the mess she had made. The old man had deserved better, but she hadn't thought it through and just went with the sure method of killing him. A tear ran past her blood-stained face, taking some blood with it and leaving a clean patch of skin behind. Her mouth was slightly open, but no sound came out. She felt horrible. Taking a step back her leg buckled underneath her and she fell down. Her head hitting the floor and bouncing of the red floor tile. She laid there, dazed, her mind was fuzzy from before, and it was shocked by what had happened next. She stared at the ceiling, the white struck her as beautiful, a glimpse into the past where she had not murdered. She slowly moved her lips trying to speak the scanted words that where trying to chant her out of her daze. The words were circling in her head, but they refused to come out over her lips, into reality, making it all real. She whispered something, not audible, then a little louder, "This… " she put a hand to her face, trying to feel it, but the glove was in the way and she only made her face dirtier. "This isn't real..." she chanted softly. Her eyes still big, her brows lifted all the way up, she turned her head and looked underneath the desk. There he laid, the man that she had killed. No more. The words came to her like a tidal wave, her mind reeling back to fully functional. The way he had said those two words were haunting, the pain, the desperation, the sadness. She pulled herself up from the floor and stood up.
She looked around, this place would be one of many, she had to steel her heart and keep the goal in mind. She was not to be the hero who saved them all. She was to be the one who freed those who needed freeing, in whatever way possible, carrying the consequences of her actions with her. She looked one last time at the headless corpse that lay on the ground nodded her head and whispered "Goodbye Camron Bell and thank you for letting me get to know you". Then she logged out. She needed some normalcy.