Chapter Nine #2
My companion only laughs softly. “I’ve noticed.”
We move the stairs in silence for several moments, my muscles screaming, broken by Elias’ need for more conversation.
“Your abilities during training today were impressive. I’ve rarely seen an Empath project their power without physical contact until you, but to project it across such distance to multiple subjects simultaneously is outstanding. ”
I tense. This is dangerous territory.
“When did you discover you could do that?” he asks with a genuine curiosity.
I hadn’t prepared an explanation for this. The truth is I’ve had decades of solitude to practice, with nothing to do but read and experiment with my power.
I can’t say that out loud.
“I practiced a lot in my free time.” A partial truth. “I just…tried projecting it one day, and it worked. So I kept pushing, strengthening it like a muscle.”
My eyes nearly weep when we reach a landing and he leads me through a door into a dark, empty hallway. Our footsteps sound unnaturally loud, mine more so. It’s impossible to hide the toll today has taken on me.
“Your thought process during the simulation was especially notable,” Elias continues. “Getting a hostile to turn on his own allies? That was creative.”
A strange flush inches up my neck at the praise, to which I immediately chastise myself for seeking approval from one of them. But there’s something about Elias that makes it hard to maintain my anger and fear.
“What is your power?”
Stars, Cassia, can you not ruin everything? Who asks that?
He glances at me with wide eyes at the direct question. “I’m a Revealer.”
Ah. That explains my unease as Revealers can detect lies. I’ll need to be especially careful not to let him touch me.
“That must be useful in your position.” I’m going to punch myself.
He huffs a breath. “It has its applications, though it’s limited. I can only tell if someone is being truthful—not what the actual truth is if they’re lying.”
We stop before an unmarked door, identical to most of the building. Elias faces me, and I realize I’ve missed something he’s said.
“Ashford?” His head tilts.
“My apologies, sir,” I spit out quickly. “Long day. What did you ask?”
Sir? Please, someone, shoot me.
He only laughs, eyes crinkling at the sides. “I asked if you would consider doing something for me.”
My stomach drops as every thought spirals to a dark place. I’m not sure I want to know what he could ask that requires this level of privacy.
“Sure.”
“As you may have observed, the men here can be…emotional at times,” he says, tone slightly sardonic. “They allow baser instincts to override their better judgment, especially in close quarters like these.”
That’s putting it mildly. From what I’ve witnessed, men are constantly posturing, challenging each other, picking fights over nothing.
“I’d like you to use your ability to help defuse situations when tempers flare.” I adjust my stance, interested. “Not only would it prevent unnecessary injuries, but it would give you valuable practice with your power. I’m curious to see how far you can develop it.”
I blink behind the shadows of my mask, nonplussed. This is the last thing I expected. He’s so impressed by my abilities that he wants me to help maintain order? I’d essentially be acting as a covert peacekeeper.
“You want me to use my power…officially?” It’s impossible to keep the surprise from my tone.
“Not officially,” he corrects, gesturing to the space separating us. “Between us. Your intervention should be subtle enough that others won’t realize what you’re doing.”
I’m not upset at the request. In fact, an unexpected swell of pride that he values my abilities enough to suggest this rises. His praise feels genuine, not manipulative.
“I can do that.”
Satisfied with my easy agreement, he twists the knob on the door and walks inside. “Come in, there’s something I want to show you.”
I follow him into the room, pausing just inside the threshold. The space is a smaller version of the training simulator from earlier—bare walls, minimal lighting, stale air. Elias walks to a wall panel and presses a square tile that’s a lighter shade of gray than the others.
The tile flips open to reveal a control panel with a display screen and several buttons. His fingers move across it with practiced ease.
“Sometimes I find this place overwhelming.” He doesn’t look at me, but I understand his words fine. “Too many people, too many emotions, too much everything. This room helps me when I need to get away.”
Before I can ask what he means, the space transforms. Bare walls fade away, replaced by a vast expanse of water stretching to the horizon.
The floor beneath my boots shifts, becoming soft, yielding sand.
Waves lap gently at my ankles, and I swear the water’s cool touch wades through my boots.
My breath catches. The simulation is incredibly realistic, far more immersive than the training scenarios.
Waves thud with rhythmic crashes and birds cry in the distance.
A sea breeze carries the scent of salt and something rich, organic—seaweed, perhaps.
The warmth of sunlight falls across my shoulders.
It’s beautiful.
More than any image I’ve seen in books or my own head. The water stretches endlessly, meeting a sky so vibrantly blue it makes my chest ache. The colors are more brilliant than anything I’ve experienced—deep azure water topped with white-capped waves, golden sand, and distant green cliffs.
“What do you think?” Elias asks, his voice cutting through my awe.
I whirl to answer and freeze, stunned by the sight of him standing there with his mask removed.
His features glow in warm golden light, revealing a face far younger than I expected.
His eyes are a clear hazel-green, set above high cheekbones and a straight nose.
His mouth—curved in a slight smile—has a full lower lip that pairs well with the soft lines of his jaw.
“Put that back on!” I hiss, glancing frantically around for possible observers. “Someone could see you!”
His smile widens, revealing a flash of white teeth and a tiny dimple in his left cheek. Something strange and fluttery happens in my stomach at the sight.
“There are no scanners or cameras in this room.” His voice is lighter, more relaxed without the mask. “That’s why I come here. To breathe freely for a while.”
I want to ask what he means by scanners, but his casual reference suggests it’s something I should already know about. I keep my questions to myself, turning back to the simulated ocean to hide my confusion and desperation to stare.
“You can remove yours too, if you’d like,” he offers. “No one will see.”
“I-I’d rather not,” I stammer, shifting in my stance. “In case someone walks in.”
He doesn’t press the issue, which I appreciate. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small device that resembles a flattened cylinder with a display screen.
“This is keyed to the room’s controls,” he explains, holding it out to me. “You can change the scenery, adjust environmental factors, even add or remove elements.”
I grab the remote, our fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. An electric tingle travels through my arm at the contact, surprising me.
Stars, I never realized how much I needed my parents’ hugs until now. I’m starved for any kind of connection.
“The simulation can engage all five senses,” he continues, oblivious to my reaction.
“You can adjust them individually. For instance, if you wanted stronger wind…” He leans in, sliding his finger across a portion of the screen.
Immediately, the breeze intensifies, gusting into my mask with enough force that I raise a hand to protect my eyes.
The sensation is extraordinary—I can feel the pressure, the temperature, even tiny droplets of sea spray.
A startled laugh escapes me, echoed by Elias’ deeper chuckle. For a moment, we’re just two people sharing a marvel, all hierarchy and suspicion temporarily suspended.
My companion moves back a few steps. “You know the way back. Don’t tell anyone about this place, and try not to stay too long, but…you’re welcome to use it when you need to.”
I watch, my head tilting as he walks along the shore, his direction diagonal toward what should be open water. Pausing, he reaches for something I can’t see, and I realize with a start that he’s opening the door—which is not near where I thought it was.
“Ashford.” He pauses at the threshold. “You’d be a great asset to the team. I know the Commander isn’t fond of you, but keep trying. He respects effort.”
Before I can formulate a response, he slips his mask back on and disappears through the doorway, leaving me alone in this simulated paradise.
Perfect I will never be. But effort? That I can give.
Focusing on the vast ocean once more, I drink in its beauty.
The weight of the day’s training lifts slightly from my shoulders as the waves continue their endless rhythm against the shore.
With the remote in my hand, I experiment with different settings, marveling at technology that can create such vivid sensory experiences.
Is this what the world was like before the Collapse? Before the Syndicate’s walls and restrictions? Did people simply walk upon beaches whenever they wished, feeling the sand between their toes and the sun upon their faces?
The injustice of it all hits me anew.
At the touch of a button, the beach dissolves, replaced by a dense forest. Towering trees stretch toward a canopy so thick the sky barely shines through. The air becomes cooler, heavy with the scent of damp earth and green growing things. Somewhere nearby, water trickles over stones.
Another press, and I stand on a mountain peak, frigid wind whipping around me, the world spread out below in a dizzying panorama of valleys and distant, snow-capped peaks. The air is so thin I find myself breathing harder, though I know it’s just the simulator affecting my perceptions.
With each new scene, my resolve strengthens. This is why I’m here. Not just to gather information, but to reclaim what’s been stolen from half the population. The right to enjoy these wonders. The right to breathe freely, to move through the world without fear or permission.
I will not fail. No matter what Arayik throws at me, no matter how my body aches or my mind fears discovery, I will endure.
For now, though, I allow myself a moment of peace in this simulated wilderness, storing the memory of beauty to sustain me through the trials ahead.
One day, I’ll stand on a real mountain, feel actual sand between my toes, breathe the air of freedom not just for myself, but for all of us who are trapped.