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98 - Gullible

The weapons fell away, receiver disengaged from rails, barrel shroud away from trunnion, the parts collided into a haphazard ball on the floor. Lyssa counted three men, but felt four presences. Someone had gone invisible.

One of them raised their fists, energy surging within his knuckles. His comrade stopped him with a wave of the hand.

“Think about what you’re doing here, student,” he said. “You’re not even at the probationary stage of heroism. You don’t even know what you are allowed to do.”

The brains of this squad, Lyssa reasoned. What should she do? Thinking was hard. She was torn between anger and calm. She was not yet used to the fullness of her emotional strength.

“There’s always self-defense,” Lyssa said.

“We’re disarmed.”

“The gear you have on has a lot of pockets.”

“Okay.”

Making slow movements, he unbuckled. His vest clattered on the floor. Reluctantly, the other two visible intruders followed suit. Lyssa pretended to not know about the fourth. She withdrew her fire claws.

“Dual gifted huh?” The brains said. “M.A.G.E really is lax nowadays.”

“What?” She said, her voice low.

“You think the current events are bad. You’re too young to remember the 90s. We went from being terrified of the Reds to being terrified of rock-and-roll, drugs, and mutants. The stuff your precious Director did in short decades to make you biological weapons palatable to the public. Haha.” He shook his head in theatric disbelief. “You haven’t the slightest clue.”

“What are you looking for?” Lyssa asked.

“You kids aren’t students. You’re conscripts.”

“Nothing here should be useful to you,” Lyssa said.

There was metal in their headgear, shielding their thoughts from her. She could lift them away and scour truths out of their skulls. But even the subtlest psychics left tracks in their wake, and she had next to no practice.

“Do you really think these series of attacks are unprompted? It’s been years in the planning.”

Lyssa spread her awareness. There were other squads of intruders in other buildings. Security was in the process of apprehending them. Only her building was untouched. She withdrew in an instant, noticing a change in her captives’ demeanor. They fidgeted when she had begun to extend herself. They knew.

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“What are you looking for in this room?” She asked again.

“I’m not going to sway you with our ideals like some bad capeshit movie. Just keep paying attention.”

“What have you been doing this whole time?” Lyssa retorted.

“So you have been listening.”

Security had already finished apprehending the other intruders. There was little to no resistance. M.A.G.E personnel were exceptionally skilled. So how had these four slipped their notice?

The brains smiled.

“You’ve noticed, haven’t you?” He said. “The way he does things. The way he operates. He’s a friend, until he’s not. Don’t trust authority figures, kid. Keep an eye open. Pay close attention.”

“I have been.” Lyssa caught the knife aimed for her lower back. With her other hand she grabbed an emptiness behind her, squeezing. Light fizzled, and the invisible member of their squad returned to view, eyes bulging and face red.

She wanted to curl her fingers deeper. Her eyes widened in a moment of realization, and she let the intruder fall onto the floor, gasping for breath. She was a murderer. It was no longer another Self that killed that man at the beginning of her story; it was her.

“I did that,” she whispered. “I did that. That was me.” She saw him again. His eyes had been desperate in his last moments. He had never been evil. Just pushed to a place few people had ever known. His crime had been being less than exceptional. She had killed him, snuffed his flame. A version of her had enjoyed it. With her black armor on, she could have simply waded through the fire and left the building. It had not been self-defense.

Reflex interrupted the turmoil spinning in her mind. Her arms went over her face, blocking the belt one of the intruders threw at her. She managed to catch sight of the bulbous canisters attached to it before light and thunder overwhelmed her. The torrent of concussive force threw her back into the hallway, and through again into the following room. Chairs and desks splintered against her skin. Flakes of black scale scattered like ash. She laid on a pile of broken wood and drywall. Double images overlapped and fused, then split again. The intruders finished their search. She saw them shove a folder into a backpack. Then, for a moment, she saw nothing.

When she woke again she wondered if it was all gone, that the blast had scrambled her mind back to square one. She reached out and felt each of her gifts respond like the flexing of a muscle. Somehow it didn’t feel satisfying.

She was aware there were people bearing over her, attempting to check her vitals. Her armor stayed on. A familiar voice caught her attention.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good, Director,” she responded.

“Sorry it took us so long,” Whitworth said. “Nothing was missing from the other rooms they visited. Must have been decoys for the people you had the misfortune of meeting.”

“Guess I’m just unlucky.”

He squinted.

“What did they say to you?” He asked.

“That you’re untrustworthy,” Lyssa said honestly. She dragged herself back on her feet. The paramedics had to make way. “That you’re a friend, until you’re not.”

“Did you get the impression I was trying to be your friend?”

“You did all this for me,” Lyssa said. “You entered my mind, you used that knowledge to configure that device you made me wear.”

She didn’t care that they were surrounded by the Director’s personnel. Her being poured through her veins, untamed and true. It made her daring enough to talk in such a way to Whitworth himself.

Then the man waved, casually, and the personnel cleared. Workers dropped their tools and the pieces of rubble they were in the process of cleaning. They were alone. For a moment Lyssa missed the voices.

“I did not lie,” Whitworth said. “The neuro-stablizer was not built to commit some conspiracy on you. It served a purpose for a younger me, and it appears to have served a purpose for you.”

“It… helped.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Now, let’s recover what they stole.”