A rush of movement a hundred yards away drew his eye, and he cut a new portal across the distance without a second thought.
When he emerged, three people were lying on the grass, covered in blood and congealed dirt. A circle of people crowded around, but it was obvious they were more onlookers than organized assistance.
He roughly shoved past the crowding people and saw that Juan was one of the injured delvers.
“Juan!” he cried, rushing forward. The boy was unconscious, blood smeared across his scalp.
Someone else was tending to another of the injured, while the third person was propped up into a sitting position, staring blankly into the distance.
Ellie crouched at his side, reaching forward for Juan without prompting. “A friend of yours?” she asked as her magic stirred.
“Yeah,” he croaked, running his eyes across the boy for any other wounds. “Will he make it?”
She closed her eyes and Terry felt her aura ping against his Skills as it wrapped around Juan. He didn’t care to check or snapshot the Skills, all his focus turned on the boy.
“Nasty head wound,” she said quietly. “Hemorrhaging in the brain.”
A voice barked out, cutting through the milling crowd. “Clear a path!”
The onlookers scattered before three people, two of them wearing scrubs. Terry looked up absentmindedly to see a man standing over them with a pinched brow. His aura felt strong, an A-ranker by Terry’s estimation.
“Is this boy Mexican-born?” he asked haughtily.
Ellie was too focused to respond, so Terry nodded in reply.
“Our healers will take it from here,” the man ordered. Ellie continued stirring her aura, ignoring the man. “Cease your amateurish efforts and let the professionals handle it!”
“I’m better than anyone in this backwater,” she mumbled. “Back off and let me work.”
He reached a hand forward, gripping her shoulder. “Step clear, girl—”
Her aura spiked outward, stabbing into him with hostile intent. Terry could see it dance past the man’s defenses, knocking him back a step.
“Fuck off!” she barked without looking up.
The man’s eyes burned at the attack and he felt aura stir toward the girl. Terry burst to his feet, squaring off with the man.
“She said, let her work.” As he met the super’s eyes, he sent a System message to Savage, hoping his mother would receive it.
[Terry]: Mom! We need you at the C-rifts!
“Get out of my way, boy,” the A-ranker growled. “She attacked me and is under arrest.”
“Juan’s life is more important than your ego,” Terry replied, trying to remain calm.
“And he’ll receive the best care we can provide.” His aura began to move and Terry realized he didn’t know what Class the man had. “Not the fumbling efforts of a C-ranker!”
“I’m better than your healers,” Ellie muttered, but there was no time to puzzle out the brazen confidence in that statement as the man’s aura crescendoed. Terry activated Skill Analysis in a desperate attempt to identify the man’s powerset so he could counter it.
Active Powers in Range:
Unknown (Unknown)
Unknown (Unknown)
Unknown (Unknown)
Unknown (Ellie)
Frustration rose as he realized he couldn’t bridge the divide between their ranks with his Analysis. His first thought was to portal Ellie and Juan away to safety. But he would have to force the two through, which would take time.
His second thought was to intercept the A-ranker’s magic, but there was the chance the man’s power blew through his portal and simply slowed the attack.
With no time to think, he activated Telekinesis, launching the man through the air like a cord had ripped him backward. His wide-eyed surprise as he soared through the air was replaced in an instant with a burst of concentration. Terry’s magical grip was pried back, leaving the man to collapse to the dirt.
He burst back to his feet, his aura stirring once more.
“When El águila hears of this attack, he will—”
Aura engulfed the man, drowning his own working and sending him down to a knee from the backlash.
“You let me deal with Hector, Tomás,” a voice said, cutting through the air like a knife. “As for why you are manifesting your power against my son…that, we can address presently.”
Terry turned to see his mother standing before a portal, a lobotomized Savage at her shoulder. Her silver eyes scanned the surrounding crowd, as if waiting for someone to object. When they finally locked back on the man—Tomás, apparently—he was trembling on a knee.
“White Rose!” he cried piteously. “They attacked me! I was simply defending myself!”
His mother’s face didn’t shift an inch as she continued to stare into the man’s eyes. “Your thoughts betray you, Tomás.” The man couldn’t meet her gaze as his whole body shook like a leaf in the wind. All around them, the crowd murmured in open shock at the White Rose’s arrival.
Terry ignored the whispers and the blood thrumming in his body, turning to rush back over to Juan and Ellie. The girl still had her hands over Juan, but his breathing had steadied and it seemed like the flow of blood had abated.
“Will he be okay?” he asked Ellie softly.
She nodded, her eyes still closed as her aura stirred within Juan. After a handful of breaths, she leaned back on her heels. “He’s stabilized.” She cast a dark look over toward Tomás, who still hadn’t risen. “But that moron nearly got your friend killed.”
A sharp cry ripped through the air high above them, loud enough to force the lower ranks to slap their hands over their ears. Terry whipped his head up to see El águila in his shifted form arcing high in the sky. With a second painful cry, he folded his wings into a dive, cutting through hundreds of feet in a single heartbeat.
When he crashed to the dirt, his body had already begun to shift. As the dust settled, there was nothing remaining of the eagle—only a tall, aquiline man staring furiously at his mother.
“What is the meaning of this!” he barked, stepping toward the prostrated A-ranker. He gripped the man, lifting him to his feet as the White Rose pulled her aura back. “You attack a full member of the Alianza del águila!”
His mother held her hands out to the side in a placating gesture. “Perhaps we should discuss this in private, Hector—”
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“I’ve told you to stop calling me that!” he shouted, taking a step toward Penelope. “That is not my name!”
Terry glanced between El águila and his mother, not quite believing how the tensions could have ramped up so high from simply trying to provide Juan timely healing. He made to stand up and take the blame, but was interrupted by a voice in his head.
Please let me handle this, Terry.
He faltered, still not used to hearing his mother’s voice in his mind. She didn’t even spare him a glance as she tilted her head at El águila.
“If I stop calling you Hector, will you calm down?”
The leader of the Alianza was practically snarling, his chest heaving with wild breaths. At his side, his fists were clenched tight, like he was imagining physically assaulting the world’s most powerful super.
El águila opened his mouth, the anger burning behind his eyes, but Penelope held up a hand, interrupting the man.
“Let’s take a beat before we say anything we regret.”
The Duelist took a half-step back, clearly put off-guard by the interruption. Terry wondered if that meant he was still surprised she was reading his thoughts. Perhaps he had thought some safeguard was put in place, not expecting the casual way with which she seemed to read the man.
With a wave of her hand, a portal cut through the space beside her. Terry knew from his own senses and experience with space that Errol had opened it, not his mother.
All the same, the reaction from the crowd was wide-eyed and vocal, no one quite believing the White Rose had managed to open a portal, despite the evidence of their eyes.
“Let’s discuss matters in my command tent…El águila.” Her lips twitched at the title, but otherwise betrayed no reaction.
The Eagle looked around quickly, as if to gauge the sentiment of the onlookers. Both Protectorate and Alianza members were watching—not to mention the unaffiliated lower ranks as well—and the Eagle seemed to finally come to his senses.
Without another word, he stepped through the portal, physically dragging Tomás along beside him. Terry watched them go, wondering how the conversation would play out, when his mother turned to look at him.
“Terry, if you please?” She cast a quizzical look toward Ellie, then her expression smoothed. “And will you bring your friend?”
Terry felt a jolt of shock at being summoned, then realized the request made sense. He had engaged in combat with an Alianza member, even if he felt his intentions had been good.
With a nod, he leaned down toward Ellie. “Would you come?” Her sour expression was clear as day, so he added, “Please? For me?”
She looked off into the distance, then sighed heavily. “Fine, but I’m not letting your mother invade my mind.”
His eyes rose at that and he looked over to see his mother staring intently at the both of them.
“I think that’s fair.”
Ellie passed Juan over to one of the healers in scrubs, relaying a simple breakdown of what she had done to stabilize him.
Knowing that Juan would be okay now, he set off toward the portal, the sound of Ellie’s footsteps a moment later following behind him.
I do not consent to mind readers. I do not consent to mind readers. I do not consent to mind readers.
The words played over and over again in the girl’s head, echoing out through the ambient aura. Penelope might have been amused any other time at the girl’s antics, except in this case, they were proving quite effective.
Ethical considerations were a major cornerstone of her entire superhero existence. For decades, she had studied philosophical and psychological treatises on the subject of both invasive and non-invasive mind reading. From those studies, she had crafted a personal code of ethics regarding the thoughts of others.
All of that went out the window when she voluntarily became a revenant to her husband and began systematically altering the memories and sensory experiences of not only her family, but every single person she came into contact with.
Ethical and moral frameworks were the ultimate responsibility of a Hypnotist—inviolable, she once thought.
She hadn’t realized that motherhood superseded the priorities she had meticulously arranged for herself. Moral abstractions were so convincing—until the realities slapped you in the face.
The things she would do for Terry scared her sometimes, the age-old trolley question suddenly all-too real and immediate.
Once upon a time, she would never have dreamed of sneaking into a person’s deeper psyche uninvited; never have dreamed of excising a portion of their personality to pacify them.
And yet, with the presence of her son on this multi-world battlefield, ethical and moral frameworks be damned.
So she pushed past the girl’s surface thoughts, delving deeper even as her and Terry moved toward the portal.
The mantra continued—I do not consent to mind readers, I do not consent to mind readers, I do not consent to mind readers—but was distant now, a far-away echo of her conscious mind. She continued deeper, pushing into the core where latent thoughts and memories percolated.
And smashed straight into a wall.
She didn’t physically stumble or even alter her outer expression, casting Terry and the girl a reassuring smile, even as her Mental Singularity ached to be unleashed.
It was immediately apparent that this mental shield was the work of an S-ranking Hypnotist and expertly crafted. A part of her was consumed with professional curiosity and wanted to dissect the shield brick by brick before placing it delicately back into place. The other part of her compared the handiwork against the S-rankers she was aware of—which was all of them—and discovered a puzzle that demanded to be solved.
This level of work and care could only belong to two individuals—and even then, only after significant breakthroughs in technique and modality.
And neither of those individuals were part of the Protectorate—or even North American.
As they passed through Errol’s portal, she reluctantly turned her attention away from this tantalizing puzzle to address Hector’s apoplectic state.
She would have to come back to the mystery of why one of the premier Hypnotists of the world had thought themselves capable of fooling her so completely as to plant a spy alongside her own son.
Her beaming smile met Hector’s furious expression.
“Are we done with the theatrics, Hector? Without an audience, it’s all a bit self-indulgent.”
His mother’s casual tone in the face of El águila’s obvious anger pulled him up short, and he half-expected the powerful Duelist to make another threatening move.
Instead, the man’s face shifted from fury to weary resignation.
“Must you infantilize me in front of others?” he asked, taking the nearest chair with a heavy sigh. “How will I regain the respect of the lower ranks now?”
“What do you mean?” his mother asked sweetly, taking the opposite chair across the table. “I thought you were suitably intimidating and projected a great deal of strength in the face of La Rosa Blanca!” She spun the Spanish term with a linguistic flourish, eliciting a scowl from the Eagle.
“And them?” he demanded, a touch of fire returning to his voice as he indicated Terry and Ellie. “They’ve undermined the Alliance and wielded their power against one of my subordinates.” He nodded toward Tomás with a disappointed purse of his lips.
As for the A-ranker, he was double-taking between the two S-rankers, perhaps not quite believing the sudden shift in mood. Terry, too, found himself taken aback, but recovered quicker.
“I apologize to Tomás and the Alliance,” Terry said quickly. “The injured boy was my friend. We were on our—” A warning notification interrupted him from saying ‘Midmark Quest together’, but he was used to the warnings by now and pivoted quickly. “—well, we’re good friends and I was concerned for his health.” He looked toward Tomás, who stood to the side with crossed arms. “I apologize for using my powers on you.”
The A-ranker seemed reluctant to accept, his eyes flicking to Ellie—who remained impassive and clearly unapologetic. “And what about her? She was the first one to attack me.”
“You put your grubby mitts on me. You’re lucky I didn’t make you shit your pants—”
“Ellie,” Terry hissed.
She whirled on him indignantly. “What? It’s true!”
Terry looked over to gauge the mood of the S-rankers, only to find a smirk on his mother’s face and a disinterested look on the Eagle’s.
Tomás, on the other hand, looked ready to burst. “How dare—”
The Eagle’s hand moved to Tomás’ arm, quieting him instantly. “Tomás, Alianza del águila has decided to forgive all transgressions.”
Tomás’ eyes bugged out before casting an accusatory look toward Penelope. “She’s in your head, isn’t she!”
The Eagle’s expression instantly chilled, his understanding look shifting to a murderous calm that inundated the room. Tomás took an involuntary step back at the change, realizing his accusation might have been off base.
“A dangerous and careless statement,” the Eagle said softly in Spanish. His eyes cut toward Savage, standing impassively behind Penelope. “You see that one, Tomás? That is what a Hypnotist’s control does to a man. Perhaps one such as the White Rose could trick our senses, read surface thoughts.” He leaned in, his face coming within inches of Tomás’. A subtle shift played across Terry’s eyes, like the man’s nose was extending outward, forming into a wicked beak. Tomás noticed too, his face leaning backward as the sharp tip of the beak neared his eyeball. “But it is not so simple to trick the senses of an S-ranked Duelist.” The Eagle’s voice sounded enhanced now, echoing strangely within his half-formed beak. It carried a weight of violence to it that had Tomás visibly trembling. The Eagle stared deeply into Tomás’ face for another beat, then retracted suddenly, his face shifting back to normal in a moment. “Must I summon Notika to put you at ease?”
Tomás shook his head fervently, rising quickly to his feet to put some distance between the S-ranker and himself. “My deepest apologies for doubting you, El águila!”
The Eagle nodded once, then indicated the tent exit with his head. “I accept. Now go. The Rose and I have matters to discuss.”
Tomás practically bolted for the exit, but was stopped cold by Penelope’s voice.
“One second.”
Tomás quivered, his body obviously wishing to ignore the White Rose and flee the tent. Terry studied the three of them, noting the Eagle’s tight-lipped expression, Tomás’ wide eyes, and his mother’s opaque silver eyes.
“There’s the small matter of my son’s powerset. In Terry’s panic, he revealed something he didn’t intend to.”
Tomás understood the implications well before Terry. “I won’t say a word! On my life, La Rosa!”
His mother gave the man a soft smile, tilting her head sadly. “I’m afraid I require more than your word.”
“Penelope,” the Eagle said with a hint of exasperation. “Fifty people saw your son’s power.”
Terry felt his stomach flip as his mind finally cleared past the adrenaline of the fight. He had revealed his Telekinesis, when he was supposed to be a Traveler. It wasn’t an impossible combination—not technically. But the way he had arrived via portal, then threw an A-ranker with telekinesis was not easily explained by Awakening an Elementalist, then transitioning to Traveler—or vice versa.
His mother never took her silver orbs from Tomás’ face as she answered. “I’ve already dealt with that…” Her voice was quiet, like her concentration was elsewhere.
Terry realized that it could only be focused on one thing.
Tomás flinched as if to bolt, then suddenly halted mid-step. His eyes went out of focus, his face slack.
His mother’s voice was soft and steady as she spoke. “There was no altercation with Terry Fairway. You smartly waited for the first healer on scene to address Juan’s injuries…”