Chapter 6: Magnetic Mischief
The training field was a raw, open wound of earth, its grass damp from a recent rain, the air heavy with the scent of wet soil and metal. The bleachers screeched under the weight of students, their chatter a low hum against the distant drone of campus life.
Landon stood opposite Andre Anderson, his new Enhanced Fire Control a restless heat in his veins, but his target was Andre's magnetism—a versatile C+ power that could shift the game. His plan was reckless, a familiar dance: taunt, die, revive, claim. But the paranoia was stronger now, a buzzing in his skull, the sense of being watched, targeted.
"Come on, Andre," Landon called, his voice sharp, goading. "Is that all you've got? My grandma can make a better paper clip out of that metal."
Andre's face tightened, his usual cool replaced by a flash of irritation. The air hummed, a metallic vibration that made Landon's teeth ache. A discarded soda can rose, spinning erratically, its aluminum glinting in the sunlight. Andre's eyes, dark and sharp, locked on Landon's.
"You're really pushing it, Landon," Andre said, his voice low, dangerous.
"Am I?" Landon grinned, his smile a challenge. "Or are you just scared to show what you can really do? Scared to crush the competition?"
The taunt hit hard, striking Andre's insecurity about his father's legacy. With a snarl, he thrust his hand forward, the air shrieking as the magnetic field condensed. Landon felt it—a crushing force that tore at his blood, his bones, his very essence. The pain was a symphony of agony, his body collapsing into a bloody pulp as the metal in his system screamed. The last sound was the high-pitched wail of the field, drowning out his own silenced cry.
Revival was a jolt, a snap back to reality in a storage shed's oppressive dark. The air was thick with sawdust and the chemical tang of old paint, the floor gritty under his palms. Static crackled over his skin, each movement sparking tiny electric shocks that made him wince. His paranoia spiked, the shed's shadows seeming to move, to watch.
[Ding! Magnetism (C+). Shocking, literally. Don't zap your friends.]
"Great," Landon thought, his sarcasm biting. "Another power, another price." He stumbled out, the shed's door creaking, the campus air cool against his fevered skin. From Andre's perspective, the field was a mystery. Landon's body was gone, the grass unmarked. How does he do it? Andre thought, his irritation giving way to curiosity. He's not just reckless—he's impossible.
The quad was alive, students sprawled on benches, the air warm with late afternoon sun. Andre and Marie found Landon on a bench, their banter a playful shield against the day's chaos. Andre's eyes held a grudging respect, Marie's a mix of annoyance and warmth.
"So, you're just… back?" Andre said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "What, you got a secret bunker?"
"Nah," Landon replied, the static still buzzing under his skin. "I just have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's my superpower, really."
Marie rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. "Landon, what were you thinking? That was reckless, even for you."
"Hey, a man's gotta have hobbies," he quipped, leaning back. "And besides, I had to see if I could be as magnetic as you, Andre. Turns out, I'm getting there."
Andre's laugh was loud, genuine, easing the tension. Marie's smile widened, their bond strengthening in the sunlight. The System chimed in, approving.
[Banter success: Group's warming up. Keep it cool, quipster.]
The moment was a Quiet Moment, a pause in the storm. Landon's fingers brushed the bench's worn wood, a memory surfacing of a park bench back home, his friends' laughter echoing. It grounded him, a reminder of why he fought—not just for power, but for connection.
The dorm hallway was quiet, the air heavy with the metallic clank of Landon's prank. He stood before Tara's door, his new magnetism humming, a mischievous urge driving him. He focused, feeling the metal in her room—buckles, coins, a belt—shifting them with a flick of his wrist. The clatter was loud, chaotic, a symphony of disruption.
Tara's door flew open, her face a storm of fury. "Landon!" she roared, her voice echoing.
Landon walked away, a smirk on his lips, but a soft laugh stopped him. Emma leaned against a doorway, her eyes bright with amusement. He's chaos, she thought, her laugh bubbling up. And I like it. The flirtation sparked, electric and alive, as Landon caught her gaze.
[Prank success: Tara's mad, Emma's impressed. Nice balance.]
The hallway's walls, scratched and faded, held a story of countless pranks, countless lives. Landon's grin widened, the spark with Emma a new kind of power, one worth fighting for.
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
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