The morning classes were a blur of tension and anticipation.

Aman clenched and loosened his palms under his desk, wiping the sweat off on his pants.

Although he had made his preparations, he had hoped that Ashok would see some sense in the interval of the weekend and let him off.

But one look at the malicious glances he, Ronnie and Rohit had sent his way when they had entered class had made it clear.

There was no two ways about it.

He would have to fend for himself. There was no use putting stock in them suddenly growing mature and merciful.

His leg started vibrating in nervousness as he watched the clock tick the time till lunch break.

It would be his first time using his soul powers and he had only practiced for a day.

He wasn’t sure he could pull it off and if he couldn't, they wouldn't just stop at stuffing his head down the toilet.

The boy in front of him turned around, annoyance clear on his face.

He forcefully pushed down his thigh with his hand, preventing it from vibrating and rattling the desk.

He smiled apologetically and the boy grimaced and turned around, muttering something unflattering under his breath.

Aman took a deep breath to clear his mind. This wouldn't do.

If he remained in this state, he wouldn't even be able to use soul sight, let alone command his ants.

‘Nama, help!’

[I’m sorry. I have no control over your emotions. Deal with it yourself.]

Aman gritted his teeth. How useless.

[I am not.]

Ignoring the AI’s protest, he focused his mind on the blackboard, trying to distract himself.

It was History class.

The teacher was talking about the period known as the Genetic Revolution.

Beginning with the discovery of nano-photons in 2030, this year was the 50th anniversary of the genetic revolution.

There were a lot of social, political and religious unrests involved with making genetic technology mainstream.

Several orthodox factions believed that this technology would only polarize the society even more. They believed that there were always things that money couldn't buy like intelligence and physical potential.

That was what allowed those born poor to excel even and climb the ladder of society.

But, with the introduction of the genetic technology, even that could be bought and sold.

They feared that it would result in the ossification of social structure and the divide between the rich and the poor would only grow larger.

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Supporting them in their crusade against genetic tech was several religious factions.

They began to revile the tech for encroaching upon the domain of God. In their opinion, the Creator was the only one with the right to decide our attributes and man altering them after birth was not only greatly disrespectful to their maker but also a sign of ingratitude to their parents.

After all, when nearly half your genes weren’t your own, could you call yourself your parents’ child?

On the political front, many of the poorer nations began to air their concern that opening up gene trade would lead to Gene Drain, a sibling phenomenon of the infamous Brain Drain where the country’s population would sell of their genes to international dealers for money.

And this was just a tip of the iceberg of problems involved with the paradigm shift involved in moving on to the Gene Era.

The class was about the various solutions proposed for these problems and how they had fared.

It was a fascinating subject and Aman soon lost himself in it, forgetting his anxiety until the ringing of the lunch bell broke him out of his reverie.

As soon as the teacher left, he made a dash for the door but this time, the effects of selling off his agility came back to haunt him.

He was noticeably slower than three days ago. And the situation would only grow worse over the course of the following month.

And even if he did have his full agility, he wouldn't have been able to escape the clutches of the two louts that were blocking the door.

After a short and futile struggle, he was being frog-marched to the boy’s washroom.

This time, Ashok was coming too. He wanted to be a part of this.

Aman wheezed as he tried to recover from the punch to his gut.

He deliberately stumbled as the three of them pushed him into the washroom, causing Rohit to lose his hold on him.

He went sprawling on the ground before scrambling to get up.

Ronnie grinned fiendishly as he pressed down on him with his foot, not allowing him to get up.

Ashok, meanwhile, watched him with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

“Not so hot now, eh bighead? Don’t you think for a second that I didn’t see you smirking when I came fourth… well, third, since you’re so useless that even coming first wasn’t able to get you selected.” taunted Ashok.

Unseen by the three boys, three large ants were crawling up their shoes and up their legs.

Rohit kicked him in the side. “Hey, boss is speaking. Answer him!”

Aman’s eyes snapped open and an obscure glow flashed within them.

Ronnie opened his mouth to add to say something but his eyes bugged out and his voice went up a few octaves as he shrieked shrilly and clamped his thighs and clutched his crotch.

Soon, Rohit and Ashok followed.

The three of them fell over each other as they desperately dashed to the cubicles to take off their pants and deal with the attack to their manhood.

Aman slowly got to his feet, a smirk on his face even as he clutched his aching side where he had been kicked.

Those ants had been specially selected by him from the colony for their size and the pain inflicted by their bites. Those three wouldn't be able to come for him today.

Smoothing out the creases of his uniform, he walked out the washroom, leaving muffled shrieks of the boys behind.

Now, to cover it up.

He was quite discreet in nature and he didn’t dare underestimate the intelligence of anyone. So that his use of powers wouldn't be discovered, he had arrived very early and painted the bottom of the seats of the three of them with honey.

Then he had taken control of an ant from a colony in the school and led a trail of them through the classroom window to their seats.

Now, even if anyone connected the ants to him, it would only be considered a prank. The ants having bitten the boys when they moved too much.

Even as he was walking towards his classroom, he tried to maintain his link with the three ants. The further the distance, the fuzzier his sensation of them became.

It seemed that the connection depended on the separation. Soon, two of the connections winked out as the ants were killed.

He chuckled as he felt one still going strong, hoping that it was the one on Ashok.

Suddenly, a sharp tingle ran up his spine and his head whipped around.

He found his gaze locked with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen outside of the advertisements.

Their eyes met for only a moment before the girl walked past, surrounded by a gaggle of admiring schoolkids.

But, Aman was sure of what he had felt.

‘Hey, Nama… are you thinking what I am thinking?’

[Technically, as we share a brain, that statement always holds true… but in this case, yes, I think you are correct. It seems we have found our first target. A user of your genes.]

Aman’s lips curved upwards. Interesting.

He would quite enjoy getting to know her. After all, she was the infamous president of the student council. The uncrowned Princess of the school. Ananya Adhikari.