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Aiden observed Leblanc's astral form, still lying on his treasure, without movement, not even an inch, like a sleeping and possessive dragon.
Aiden analyzed his options and quickly calculated his chances, invading a mental space means being in enemy territory, here the rules were no longer his.
And it's either I respect the laws of this mind, or I force my way through, he reflected with the clinical precision that characterized Marcus. But I must keep Leblanc in good enough condition not to turn him into a vegetable.
A seductive approach first, then brutal if necessary. This was the strategy that had always worked in his previous life, start gently, then escalate if resistance manifested.
Aiden moved his golden thread toward the sleeping form, trying a subtle approach, almost caressing. After all, why not start with diplomacy?
Come on, my old colonialist Leblanc, he thought directing the thread toward the astral representation's forehead. Let me just help you be a better fellow in this life...
But the very instant the golden thread touched the astral form's skin, Leblanc's eyes snapped open.
This bastard wasn't "asleep"?? Aiden swore.
With a sharp snap, like shutters slamming in a storm.
And what Aiden saw in those eyes froze him in place. This was no longer the pot-bellied and greedy man he had observed at the zoo. This was something much more primitive, much more ferocious, with such pure and concentrated greed that it became terrifying.
Aiden's golden thread instinctively retracted before mentally slapping himself and regaining confidence.
- "WHO DARES TOUCH MY TREASURE?" roared Leblanc's voice, but amplified, distorted, as if it came from the depths of the earth itself.
Shit, thought Aiden. Diplomacy, level zero. Moving directly to plan B.
Leblanc's astral form straightened up, and it was exactly like watching an Elden Ring final boss come to life. The gold coins surrounding him began to rise into the air, swirling around him like a golden storm. His body transformed, swelling, taking on more imposing, more threatening proportions.
Leblanc raised his arms in a cross, head thrown back toward the sky of his own mind, and his voice resonated throughout the mental space:
- "MY GOLD! MY RICHES! NO ONE CAN TAKE THEM! NO ONE!"
Holy shit, Aiden realized with sudden clarity. This guy isn't just greedy. He's completely obsessed. His greed has literally taken control of his mind.
The gold coins now swirled around Leblanc like living armor, and Aiden understood he had just awakened something that even a Muggle could develop, an obsession so pure it created its own mental defenses.
I hope every Muggle mind isn't like this because... What about wizards trained in Occlumency if this is what it is??
In the real world, five seconds had elapsed. Five fucking seconds. But here, in this mental space, Aiden knew he might have hours ahead of him to solve this problem.
Aiden made a crucial decision and completely sacrificed his memory of brushing his teeth three days ago, a memory that lasted approximately 145 seconds, which he could convert into 1450 golden threads that he immediately sent into Leblanc's mind through their visual contact still active even after 5 seconds, and Leblanc in the real world was starting to find it weird that he and the kid were staring at each other for so long...
Now the problem was that his first golden thread would have to resist alone until his reinforcements arrived, because they still had to cross the fog and find their location.
Time to improvise, thought Aiden with that mental smile that had nothing reassuring about it.
He made a decision that would have made any mental security manual scream, he transformed his golden thread into a complete astral projection of himself.
The energy that coursed through him was like an electric shock going up his spine. One moment, he was an invisible golden thread. The next moment, he stood upright in Leblanc's mind, in his own astral body, a mixture between the ten-year-old child he was and the thirty-two-year-old man he had been.
- "Well," he said aloud, his words echoing in the mental space like hammer blows, "let's buy time before my army arrives."
Leblanc pivoted toward him, his eyes now completely golden, as if he had replaced his pupils with coins.
- "A THIEF!" he screamed pointing an accusing finger at Aiden. "YOU WANT TO TAKE MY GOLD!"
- "Technically," replied Aiden with that British composure he had developed after ten years in London, "I just want to take a little bit of your free will. Your gold, you can keep it. I don't give a fuck about it."
But Leblanc wasn't listening. He had already switched to combat mode, the gold coins forming increasingly rapid spirals around him.
- "NO ONE TOUCHES MY RICHES! NO ONE!"
The first coins shot toward Aiden like golden projectiles. He barely dodged, rolling to the side with agility that was surprising in a child's body.
OK, he thought while avoiding a new volley, this guy is literally trying to kill me with small change. It's both pathetic and terrifying. The advantage in this world of the mind is that it's no longer governed by the rules of the real world.
Aiden glanced at his body and completely suppressed his weight, transformed his body, his muscles, his bones, his entire body with supernatural elasticity, transforming his average dodging ability into an almost divine skill.
None of the golden coins reached him, his body at an almost impossible angle could twist and dodge each projectile by a hair's breadth.
Fortunately he doesn't know how to control his mind, he doesn't know the rules and can't prevent me from transforming at will.
But Leblanc hadn't said his last word and with a howl of rage increased the rotation speed of his coins and his throws became power shells.
Projectile after projectile, the dodging angle became tighter and tighter and the speed of the coins prevented Aiden from reacting fast enough.
Radically and very quickly, Aiden then transformed his nervous system and the nerves behind his eyes, his brain could now capture any projectile in slow motion and act accordingly.
Come on, my little ones, he thought watching his reinforcements head into Leblanc's mind fog. Daddy needs a hand, and fast.
Leblanc, meanwhile, had taken the classic final boss pose, arms crossed, head thrown back, expression of pure madness on his face. The gold coins now floated around him like a demonic halo, and every time he moved, they emitted a metallic tinkling that resonated throughout the mental space.
- "I AM WEALTH!" he proclaimed in a voice that no longer had anything human about it. "I AM GREED INCARNATE! YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME!"
Aiden dodged a new attack and smiled, that cold and calculating smile that came to him when things became really interesting.
- "My old Leblanc," he said straightening up, "you've obviously never met a reincarnated neurosurgeon with crazy mental powers and authority problems."
He looked up at the mental fog above them, where he could feel his twenty golden threads approaching like a silent army.
- "And you know what? In about thirty seconds, you're going to discover why it's a very, very bad idea to wake up someone who literally has nothing to lose."
The gold coins swirled even faster around Leblanc.
Oh damn! thought Aiden. Ahhh get me out of here, this bastard is going crazy.
In this mental world, war had broken out.
And Aiden had no intention of losing.
Leblanc roared with rage, his astral form deforming further. The gold coins swirled around him like a golden storm, each of them sharpened like a blade. They sliced through the air toward Aiden with deadly precision.
Aiden dodged the first barrage, his astral body moving with supernatural fluidity. A coin grazed his cheek, leaving a trail of psychic pain that spread throughout his entire being. In this mental space, every wound was real, every blow could destroy a part of his consciousness.
He rolled to the side, barely avoiding a golden chain that sought to ensnare him. His breathing was short and controlled. Every movement was calculated, precise, the transformed reflexes in his astral form were capable of seeing everything and calculating everything to order his body what it needed to do to dodge as quickly as possible.
Leblanc then advanced, his eyes shining with sickly greed.
- "You thought you could dominate me, little brat? I'm going to destroy you!"
A new wave of attacks surged and this time, the golden projectiles multiplied, creating an impenetrable wall of cutting metal, Aiden had nowhere to flee.
It's time, things are getting a bit tight here. He thought lifting his head and feeling his army arrive hastily.
His eyes closed for a fraction of a second. When they reopened, in front of him shone with pure golden brilliance, intense as a miniature sun, an immense shield of golden threads that had interposed themselves.
With his hands, he commanded the threads and a true golden network burst forth in front of him with the force of an eruption.
The golden threads shot through the mental space guided by Aiden's own intention. They undulated between the flying coins, bypassed the chains, dodged each projectile with hypnotic grace. It was like watching water flow around obstacles, fluid and implacable.
- "Impossible..." murmured Leblanc, his voice trembling for the first time.
The first threads reached their target. Right arm, a thread wrapped around the wrist. Left arm, two threads intertwined around the forearm. Right leg, left leg, torso, one by one, Leblanc's limbs were trapped.
The banker struggled violently, his muscles tensed with effort. But each attempt at liberation only tightened the vice. The threads connected to each other, creating a complex network, a golden prison that progressively immobilized its prey.
The other threads attached to joints, tension points, creating a web so tight that Leblanc could no longer move a single muscle.
Aiden approached slowly, his steps echoing in the sudden silence that had fallen over the mental space. The storm of gold coins had subsided, the chains lay motionless on the psychic ground. Only remained the glimmer of golden threads pulsing with a dull light.
He felt empty, really exhausted, enormous weakness threatening to take possession of his body but he let nothing show.
I really need to find a way to increase these magic reserves.
He stopped in front of Leblanc, suspended in the air like a puppet awaiting its puppeteer. Aiden X Marcus's face was grave, marked with cold determination.
- "I've always hated parasites who get rich off others' misery," he said in a low voice, charged with implacable authority.
He slowly raised his right hand. Instantly, the golden threads quivered, awaiting his orders like disciplined soldiers.
- "The fly has stopped fluttering and annoying me. Now, be my puppet, Leblanc."
With a precise movement of his fingers, Aiden forced Leblanc's right hand to rise, then the left, in perfect synchronization. The golden threads undulated and shone, transmitting each impulse with terrifying mechanical precision.
Leblanc's eyes, the only elements he still controlled, expressed absolute terror. His mouth opened and closed without any sound coming out, like a fish out of water. He had become exactly what Aiden had wanted, a puppet of flesh and mind, suspended by invisible but very real threads.
Aiden wasn't smiling. His expression remained cold, impassive. He moved the fingers of his right hand, and immediately, Leblanc's repeated the movement. Each gesture was amplified by the golden threads that pulsed and tensed in perfect harmony.
Each small golden thread then separated an infinitesimal part of themselves and this infinitesimal part flew toward Aiden who absorbed them and attached them to his own scaffold in his mind. He now had total control.
- "Perfect," he murmured in a voice that carried the weight of two existences. "Now, you're going to listen to me very carefully, Mister Leblanc. We have a little empire to build together."
In this mental space devastated by their confrontation, Aiden Mortensen now reigned as absolute master. He had just crossed a decisive line, the one that separates experimentation from pure domination.