The Phenomena of Fireflies and Star... - Chapter 34: Chapter 34

Waiting Room
Rehabilitation Center
The Underground Facilities
Division Headquarters
There she was, looking good as always in a blood red pantsuit. Her hair was fixed in a Grecian braid. She looked guilty, however, and Ames knew why. He wanted to go to her and hug her, but she wouldn't be able to feel it anyway.
He could definitely possess her and communicate with her using her own mind, though.
'That feels inappropriate,' Ames considered. 'But I mean her no harm, and it's the only way for me to communicate with her in this form.'
He just needed to talk.
Besides, he had an idea. One for protection. He only knew of one person right now who had the street smarts and the cunning to enact it: her.
First, he needed a private space for them to talk.
Eliza made her way into the nearby comfort room. She didn't really need to use it, but she wasn't planning on walking back in that meeting room looking upset.
'I'm going to deal with this just like I always have,' she thought to herself as she came face-to-face with her reflection in the comfort room mirror. 'I did what I had to do. I did what I thought was right.'
'I'm not going to pretend otherwise.'
'If they can't stomach me, it's their problem. Not mine.'
She'd been unable to see Ames's body. She wanted to see him, know how he was doing. When she had heard about him infiltrating the Diameter dome, she had wanted nothing more than to punch the shit out of him for outclassing her guts and for nearly giving her a heart attack, but then it seemed like he'd been smashed around enough.
'Ambrose, you son of a bitch,' Eliza thought regretfully, taking a deep breath. She needed to make sure that there was a solution underway. There had to be. There always had to be. 'Taking big bites out of a hard old pie you've never sliced.'
'All for what?'
'To do what's good? The right thing?'
'You'd really go that far to prove your point, huh?'
'You really are a crazy son of a bitch.'
A stray lock of hair fell upon her face. She flicked it off with a finger.
'You really are my friend,' she truly meant, pressing her hand against her chest. 'Otherwise, we wouldn't be in this war together. Please be okay. Please be okay, Ames.'
So far, she was looking okay. Mostly. She didn't notice anything distracting in how she looked. Just an obvious need to regain her composure.
"As far as I'm concerned, I still have power, and my position is still mine," she said to herself, feeling the sudden urge to check her phone. A strong urge, but unexpected. Almost foreign to her, to be honest. She opened the red purse that hung to her side. "I'll figure out what I can do to patch this mess up. Like always."
'Eliza, it's me,' a thought intruded her own. She paused mid-reach, surprised by the clarity of the thought that felt foreign to her. Creeping sensations took over her skin. It was as if the room was suddenly colder than it really was.
'Just probably me being tired,' she decided, exhaling loudly as she started fishing for her phone again.
'No, Elle! It's me! Ames! I'm talking with you.'
A gasp burst out of her lips this time. She found herself staring at her reflection, expecting something to flash before her eyes.
She was alone in the room. Nobody else was making a sound. The voice at the back of her head, however, had been loud and clear to her.
'I'm imagining this,' she thought nervously. 'I have to be. I surely sounded like Ames in my head just now. That's freaky.'
'No, dammit. You're not. I know you're here. In Division. Just acknowledge me. You're not going crazy.'
'What the fuck?' Eliza's alarm flared up. 'What the hell is going on?'
The chills in Eliza's body were starting to become very uncomfortable. She couldn't even move. Her instincts warned strongly against it. It was as if anything could happen if she so much as moved a finger.
'Go on. Acknowledge me. This is what happened to me. After the double exposure.'
'I-is this for real?' Eliza wondered, knowing for sure that the other voice in her head wasn't hers. 'Is he really talking with me?'
'S-should I respond?'
"Ames?" she whispered harshly. "W-what..."
'Don't tell anybody. I'm a telepath now, too. Nobody knows yet but you.'
'Yep,' she thought, blinking in surprise upon her confirmation. 'This is nuts.'
"Telepath?" she went on, managing to tone down the chills in her body a little bit. "Like, um, Malign?"
'God, no. I mean, I hope not. Things aren't optimistic yet.'
'Also, you don't have to talk out loud. You shouldn't. Just think your response. I'll hear you loud and clear.'
"Okay, okay...," she whispered for the last time, gulping down the tension in her throat.
'I'm sorry, Ames,' she thought, forcing herself not to cry. She'd been incredibly worked up lately, and her punchlines weren't cutting it anymore. Plus, the guilt. 'I'm so, so sorry. You know I love you. I'm sorry.'
'It's past, Elle. Don't worry about it. You know I love you, too. It's just... We were stupid to think they'd stop with our little party trick.'
'I'm sorry, Ames. It was so sudden, too. It felt like an ambush. Those bastards really got me there.'
'How are you holding up? Are they grilling you? I hope not.'
'Eh,' Eliza thought, cracking her neck and fixing her braid to distract herself from the insanity of what she was in the middle of. 'They are. I'm handling it pretty well. Don't worry. I'm more worried about you, you fucking idiot. Why'd you do that?'
She leaned over the sink with her hands, pretending to scan her face and her eyes upon hearing footsteps approaching from outside. True enough, the door opened and in came a well-dressed employee. The woman smiled at her courteously, a gesture she returned, before disappearing in a stall.
'Why'd you do that, Ames?' Eliza went back to mentally demanding answers.
'They were about to make a big mistake, Elle. Max was right. I was right. We sort of paid the price, but at least the Seven's dealt with.'
'Sort of paid the price?' Eliza restrained herself after tilting her head argumentatively. Things were piling up in her mind, one after the other, threatening to congest. 'You have powers now. You blew up the Diameter, and now you're talking to me via telepathy. That's not "sort of paid the price", bro. That's skidding close to bankruptcy. That's beyond a WTF moment.'
'And how the hell did Max get involved in all of this?' another important point rang up in Eliza's mind, stinging her with confusion. 'Right. I saw him. That's odd. Can't believe I glossed over that. But why's he here? Like, here deep in Division? And why did you say he was right? What could he have possibly said about all this to be right?'
'Oh, hell. You don't know about Max yet...'
'I have no idea who Max really is this whole time, to be honest,' Eliza confessed a little helplessly, raising her eyebrows at her reflection. 'I'm swimming in worry, confusion, stress, guilt, and whatever else right now. I dunno'.'
'Right. I know you're worried, but look, I really, really need your help right now.'
'Oh, shit,' Eliza thought, shutting her eyes hard in her stress. She gave herself a few seconds of mental blankness for her sanity's sake and opened her eyes again. 'This better not get us in trouble again, Ames.'
'No, it won't. It just might help us. Help Max, I mean. First, let's get out of here and get some cool air. I'll explain everything. Whaddya' say?'
'I think I like that,' Eliza responded, pushing off the sink and walking out of the comfort room. She paused in the middle of the corridor, not quite sure where to go next. 'Help Max, huh? That's too sus'. Where to?'
'Somewhere you can use your genius.'
'Are you serious right now?' Eliza stopped herself from whipping her head sharply the way she normally did whenever she heard something that wasn't to her liking. She really wasn't liking where the secret conversation was going, though. 'I sure hope you mean my genius in power-dressing, Ames, 'cause it doesn't sound like it.'
'Yeah, it's not it, but power-dressing helps. Don't worry. I'll be with you for as long as you'll need me. By the way, I'm digging the look.'
'Thanks. It's Gabriela Mayari. This year's wet season corporate wear collection. Glams up the grime of the grit every time, but things have been insane lately. Partly your fault, bestie.'
'I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just really need one last favor. I got your back. Don't worry.'
'Talk about a Monday rush,' Eliza sighed, really taking out her phone this time. Her grip on it was a little hard, but she wasn't exactly about to take a selfie. She had a gut feeling that this would probably come in handy and, yes, get her ass kicked. Ames's, too. Somehow. Then again, she had to remind herself that someone with telepathy was taking the time to tell her to do something right now. It had to be a serious matter that Ames wouldn't have known or been informed of if he'd been physically around or within earshot. That, in itself and in consideration of everything they'd confirmed about Division's near-unstoppable ambition, was a glaring enough warning sign. 'What do you need?'
'You still have that tool of yours with you?'
'You bet your ass, I do,' Eliza responded, walking toward the end of the corridor. The sound of her heels clicking was comforting like a hype man in a rap battle. She glanced behind her to check if anybody was following her.
This was the rehabilitation area. If there was anything of value that Ames needed access to, it wouldn't be here. It had to be somewhere else.
'You know, at this point, you'd be doing well in the espionage career.'
'Don't flatter me yet,' Eliza thought, reaching the door at the end of the corridor. It was, fortunately, a standard door that didn't require extensive security checks. 'Now, brief me.'
'Alright, Breaker. There's just something we need to acquire and give to Max.'
Eliza scoffed as she pushed the door open and walked out to the connecting corridor.
'You did not just call me by my college alias.'
'Hey, queen. The hacker life chose you. I just thought you needed the pat in the back.'
She managed a courteous smile as she passed by some employees.
'I'm about to hack into Division. I'm gonna' need a strong contingency plan for my professional life after this, too.'
Max rested his hands on the surface of the glass, his eyes on Ames's body, which currently lay still inside the blue force field. Max could see that Ames's eyes were open, but he was probably too immersed in the scanning procedure to notice anything else.
It had been twenty-five minutes. Approximately. Maybe thirty. Max couldn't tell for sure.
'I don't know if you know I'm here,' Max thought as he gazed upon Ames. 'But I want you to know I'll always be waiting. I'll manage. For you. For us. Don't worry about me.'
"Max," Lazaro's voice floated from behind.
Max had dreaded hearing that, but time had come.
"It's time."
'Come on, Ames,' Max pleaded one last time. 'Notice me. Please.'
"The safe house is ready."
'Come on...,' he repeated, pushing back from the glass a bit. Ames was still there, entranced by whatever it was that hung above him.
"I love you, Ames...," Max whispered, recognizing that he no longer had time. If he really wanted to have a life to live with Ames, he had to move now.
And Ames needed to focus on getting better.
'Time to move, man,' Max forced himself. 'Don't mess this up.'
'This is necessary.'
He had an idea. It should be good enough.
He released a pulse that only Ames would feel. A pulse of loving warmth.
It might not even make it through the blue force field, but Max hoped that it would, at least, linger in the space around Ames.
It was just so that Ames wouldn't feel abandoned when he snapped out of his trance.
With a heavy burst of breath and an even heavier heart, Max stepped back from the glass, turning away and joining Lazaro on the way to the door.
"You'll be with him again," Lazaro said reassuringly. "Just be extra careful this time around."
"He better be well enough to actually be with me," Max replied.
"Oh, shit!" a startled cry from behind them led an explosion of other screams, followed by the sound of glass cracking loudly. Max turned quickly, hands glowing and ready to erect a force field if needed.
A cloud of sizzling pink energy filled the scanning room, the observers around it cowering away defensively.
"Sorry!" a voice called out from inside the cloud, which began to smoke out of the cracks in the glass. "Dammit! I'm sorry! I didn't mean that."
"Ames?" Max called out.
He watched as the pink energy began retreating through the cracks, which also started smoothing out and repairing themselves until they were no more.
When the energy cleared out, Max found Ames standing in the middle of the scanning room, the objects around him in the process of reconstituting and repairing. Whatever had just happened had shattered the objects around Ames, and he was now preoccupied with bringing the blasted fragments back together.
"I'm repairing," Ames announced apologetically, his voice coming from the speakers this time. "Sorry. Sorry."
When the objects around Ames finally returned to normal, the bright glow of his eyes dimmed down. Max could tell immediately that Ames was looking right at him.
"Your lover's powers are as visually arresting as they are terrifying, Max," Lazaro commented through his breaths. "I can only imagine how expensive his rehabilitation would've been if he couldn't reconstruct matter."
With a deep breath, Max simmered his own power down.
"Professor Andrade," one of the scientists approached the glass, a microphone to her lips. "What just happened?"
"I, um, snapped back to consciousness," Ames replied, glancing at her in acknowledgment. "I guess. I'm sorry. Everything should, eh, work normally."
After a short confirmation of statuses among the scientists present, the attention of the laboratory returned to Ames.
"Alright," a slightly shaky male voice took over the microphone. "Unfortunately, we might have to redo the scanning process..."
"Sure," Ames replied, smiling at Max. "I just need a second."
Max hurried toward the glass, and Ames did the same.
There was a wash of warmth inside Max the moment he got close to Ames again, and the smile that formed on his face beamed sincerely.
"Hey there," Max said, slightly annoyed by the sheet of glass between them.
"Hey there, yourself," Ames replied. "You doing good, cowboy?"
"Yeah," Max said, sighing. He had to let Ames know what was up. "They're transporting me to a safe place. Where I can wait for you. I just didn't want to leave without you knowing."
Ames was silent for a while, a moment concluded by a deep breath.
"My educated guess is that it's gonna' take a while," Ames said, smiling warmly at Max. The smile had a noticeable trace of sadness. Especially in Ames's eyes. "Go. It's for us."
"I love you, Ames," Max was never getting tired of saying that. "Wanted you to hear it from me."
"I love you, too, Max," Ames replied, his attempt to touch Max's face obstructed by the glass. "Now, go. I'll do what I need to do here, too. Wait for me."
'Thank you, God,' Max thought, closing his eyes in gratitude. He had really thought he wouldn't get the chance to say goodbye properly, but he got it now.
And he had to go.
"Let's do our best," Max said, backing away from the glass. It hurt to leave, but there was a determination in Ames's eyes that Max didn't want to disappoint. They counted on each other, after all. "Come home, Ames. Come home."
"I will," Ames declared, nodding at the scientists waiting for him. "I will."
"Stay put in here, boy," Lazaro instructed as he walked out of view, closing the door as he left.
Max backed away from the door, looking around him. He was in a small sleeping room with no more than a bed and a functioning AC unit. One of HQ's many sleeping rooms, actually. Overtime workers were common in Division, and they benefited from a few hours of sleep.
Lazaro had already called for a clandestine transportation to the safe house, but he had to deal with something first. It should take only a while.
Max sat down on the corner of the single bed, trying to catch up with himself.
He knew that there was still light at the end of his tunnel. Their tunnel. There was yet another battle ahead, but this was one that they both needed to do well in. To survive. So much had happened in just one day, and Max had almost forgotten that it wasn't even Tuesday yet. This was definitely a significant tangent to their plans, but they'd been a bit off with their calculations from the start. What they had now, they had no choice but to deal with.
They would.
The lights above Max flickered, making him look up at them. The flickering was rather harsh.
And then everything was black.
The AC unit's hum reached a sonic bump before fading out, bringing the coolness with it.
"Great...," Max muttered, just about to craft a photokinetic orb when the lights flickered on again, followed by the AC unit.
'Generator?' Max wondered. There was a sudden knock on the door, diverting his attention toward it immediately and triggering an instinctive glow around his hands. 'Lazaro's knocking pattern is a Morse code of his middle initial. That's not gonna' be him when I open the door.'
'Who could that be? Strange. I hope I don't have to fight in this space.'
Cautiously, he made his way to the door.
'Here goes...'
He opened the door, his free right hand prepared to shoot. Confusion came over him right after.
"Eliza?" he blurted out, finding the young woman anxiously waiting outside his door. He lowered his hand to his side and deactivated his power.
"Max," Eliza responded, briefly checking the corridor she stood in. "I don't have time, but I know who you are. Who you really are."
Hastily, Eliza shoved something to Max's chest. It was rather solid, and it was wrapped in what looked like a red handkerchief. Max was barely catching up with what was happening.
"What are you doing here?" he asked Eliza, taking the object into his hands.
"Ames sent me here," Eliza said hastily, glancing at the corridor from time to time. "To give you that. In case you'll need it. Gabriel."
"Sent you?" Max asked, unwrapping the object in his hands. "How? And what is..."
His voice drifted off in surprise at the sight of what he was holding. So many things were going on all at once, and his questions were piling up fast.
"How'd you get this?" Max demanded, looking up at Eliza. "Who are you, really?"
There were hints of mischief and pride in the largely concerned expression on Eliza's face. Max felt them in her pulsations, too.
"Don't let anybody find that...," Eliza said, nodding at him as she backed away. She held her phone up, a unique-looking button on its screen. With a single press of her thumb on the button, the lights blacked out again.
"Take care, hero," Max heard Eliza's voice for the last time before the sound of her heels clicking away took over. When the lights turned back on, Max was alone once more.
'What's all this about?' he was left wondering, staring down at what Eliza had given him. 'This better not be trouble.'
Ames was back on the recliner in no time, connected to the apparatus and gazing up at the orb once more.
The scientists were back in their positions, poised for another round of scanning.
"Are you ready, Professor?"
"Let's get this over with," Ames answered.
The orb above him began to light up again.
'You'll be alright, Max,' Ames thought. 'I made sure of it.'
Max stepped into the special transport truck, finding the opposite seating rows occupied by specially armed agents. Interestingly, only one NAI had been sent to accompany him. Her call sign was Element, as she had introduced herself earlier. Max remembered her from hours ago. She was the one who had been thrown into the observation room he and Ames had hidden in back in the Diameter. Max was glad that Element had made it. Her teammate hadn't been so lucky.
The special transport truck, just like the others of its type that Division had rarely used during Max's time as Alpha, didn't have a holding cell. That meant Max would get his suppression shot as soon as possible. That worked better than any holding cell, especially against second-exposure powers. Not that they needed it to deal with him anyway. Max's last act of rebellion, ironically, required his precise obedience.
Max helped himself down on the seat on the far end, right next to the container wall behind the truck cabin. He let out an exhausted breath as he waited for Element to come along.
'I haven't been inside a truck like this for a long time,' Max recalled as he looked around the interior, which was adequately lit by overhead lights. 'Takes me back, in a way.'
"Mister Clemente," Element called out to him politely upon reaching his location. She held out her hand to the container wall to Max's left and pressed against the surface. A beeping sound came up and a square section of the wall parted in two, revealing behind it a vault. A holographic keypad appeared. Element proceeded to punch the code in quickly. Four-digit code, each press accompanied by a unique beeping sound, just like in HQ. "Sir, I need to administer now."
The keypad disappeared and the vault door slid open to the right, revealing the suspended syringe gun in it, as well as the syringes that served as its ammunition. Element carefully took out the syringe gun, which was about as big as a Starling9 handgun, and loaded a syringe into its barrel.
"Go ahead," Max permitted her, rolling up his right jacket sleeve and offering his arm.
"I still look up to you to this day, sir," she said quietly, readying the syringe gun and positioning it just above a vein in Max's arm. "No matter what."
Max thought that he must have trained her back in the day, before he had decided to leave the Enforcer life. Most of the strategies he had taught them were strategies he had developed throughout his long career as an Enforcer and his stint as an Uwak.
"This will hurt a little," Element prefaced, pushing the needle in and pulling the trigger.
"Judging from what we're picking up, you have telekinesis. Your telekinetic control is very precise, down to an atomic level. We already mentioned this earlier."
Ames no longer filled himself with telekinetic energy, but he also kept his telepathy on a tight leash. It was still, however, passively operating. From what he'd learned earlier, Division didn't have the technology to finely pinpoint telepathy, especially when it didn't have energy emissions. Malign had just been a painfully obvious telepath.
They'd had telepaths in their walls in the past without their knowledge.
That, in itself, was a very red flag. Ames wouldn't be surprised if Division had housed other empaths before without them knowing about it.
"Prior to Creaton exposure, you had an impressive IQ level of 225. Theoretically, that should've tripled by now. Adding your unregulated exposure into the picture, it would be much higher. Your potential for learning will continue to grow. Largely at your will."
Max rested his head against the wall of the container, trying to recall the last time he had thought and processed information in the method he used to. It had been quite some time. The more comfortable he'd gotten with his new life, the less he'd had to bother with the heavy planning. According to how he saw it, he'd become more instinct-dependent. Empathy-dependent.
Living with Ames had taught Max to be more concerned about how he actually connected instead of what the strategy of connecting was. Liberating, he found it to be.
With his second-exposure powers now deactivated, he was the closest he'd ever been to being human. Then again, he could argue that not healing immediately from his wounds would have to be the closest he'd ever been to true humanity. To vulnerability.
He didn't know where this safe house was, but he could tell that they were going back the way they'd come from earlier. He figured it should be at the other end of the city, in a place where he would be isolated.
He just wanted to get there immediately.
Knowing intimately how it would most probably be a very long time before he could have Ames back, he wanted nothing more than to start waiting the soonest possible.
"Mister Clemente," Element called out to him from the opposite row. She had already put the syringe gun back in the vault. "Are you really not going back to being an Enforcer?"
Max looked back at her, and then at the agents who seemed to be waiting for his answer, too. The way their fully helmeted heads were aimed toward him was very telling.
"No," Max answered honestly. "No, I'm not."
"You found your home someplace else?" Element continued.
"In someone else," Max replied. "I choose him."
Element nodded contemplatively at him before speaking again.
"My home is in Division," she expressed, looking away. "As who I am now."
Max wondered where Element was coming from with that. He used his empathy to figure out if the NAI had spoken liberally or if her words had been a product of conditioning.
'She was being honest,' Max read. 'Heartfelt.'
"I made a choice," Element went on. "It was either an Enforcer or a thief. I'd rather be an Enforcer."
Max remembered one person who should be able to relate with her right now somehow: Ames.
"The man I love made an important choice like that before, too," Max told Element, much to the NAI's intrigue. "He wanted to claim his own destiny, so he rebelled against what he thought was his fate."
Element nodded, catching on.
"Is he winning?" she asked, her inquisitiveness piercing through her eyes. "Somehow?"
"We better be," Max answered, giving Element a polite smile before resting his head again.
'We better be.'
"Unlike the other telekinetic superhumans we've had in the past, Professor, yours is telekinesis as a starting point. Not the ultimate manifestation. Your potential for growth is currently very high, and it will continue to increase as you go on in life, as you continue to gain experience and add to your intelligence."
Ames wondered how long that would take to fix. He had a feeling his telekinesis would cause his delay.
"The basic powers granted by your first exposure to the variant shards have been evident in you, but your second-exposure powers will always be the growing concern. You are the Omega Phenomenon. You have to accept that this procedure may only work so well as to remove your second-exposure powers and weaken your first-exposure powers. There is a high probability that you may not be able to go back to normal at a hundred percent."
Ames didn't like being reminded of that likelihood. It was disappointing enough that the war for a life with Max was far from over. He could definitely use some encouragement. Some good news, if there were any. Anything.
"Right now, you're still in control of the power inside of you, but it will not be long before it becomes too strong. Currently, from what we can see, you're still able to organize your cognition in mental boxes."
'Damn,' Ames thought in slight alarm, side-eyeing the glass behind which Dr. Manawi and Dr. Young were positioned. 'They can see that, too?'
"The box-like constructs are currently multiplying, Professor. Almost completely without you noticing."
'So they can see the boxes in my mind but not my telepathy?'
That information was an indirect confirmation of how dangerous telepaths really could be. Like Malign.
There was an undertone to it all that bothered Ames, but he wasn't in the place to dig into it yet.
Max felt himself drifting slowly into sleep. It wasn't the suppressant. He was simply so exhausted. He would very much appreciate even twenty minutes of sleep. The truck was moving pretty fast. The traffic must have been fluid. Well, at this hour of the night, rush hour would've already passed.
He closed his eyes, slowing down his breathing to steal a nap. He could use one.
There was a slight shift in his surroundings. It was very noticeable. Like a pulse. Almost similar in feeling to his empathic pulses. He opened his eyes.
'What was that?' he wondered, looking down at his arm. 'Must be my powers acting wonky.'
He closed his eyes once more.
And there came the pulse yet again. It was much stronger this time, and when he opened his eyes, he knew he wasn't alone. Element was looking at him in confused alarm.
"The hell was that?" she asked, attracting the attention of the other agents. They had psionic scrambler helmets on. Element, however, had taken hers off.
A disturbing hunch came upon Max's mind, and he immediately felt a chill travel down his back.
"Element," he called out to the NAI. "Put your helmet on."
The NAI curiously complied, securing the armor over her head.
It was then that Max remembered he wasn't wearing any.
His spiking alarm rang in his brain like a bell.
Despite his initial freeze in his grim realization, he remained level-headed enough to speak.
"Do you happen to have a spare..."
He didn't finish.
"Argh!" he cried out in the shock of inexplicable pain, his hands clasping his head.
He felt the pulse again, and it was much stronger this time. It left a hot trail inside his skull.
Around him, the agents sprang up in alarm, and he could hear concerning sounds from the truck cabin.
"Gah!" Max fought hard, his vision blurring out and flashing painfully. He had to let them know. "Telepath!"
"BLAM!"
An explosion of sound from the cabin threw them into chaos, and a palpable force flowed through them like a tsunami making landfall. Max's eyes widened upon realizing that the container was rising in the air due to the impact.
It was rising fast. Uncontrollably fast.
"Hold on!" he cried out, preparing for the crash with his hands clamoring for the overhead handles. To no avail.
Max caught a glimpse of the agents falling over. He heard the frightened shouts.
'Ames!'
He heard the crash.
He felt it.
After that, nothing but black.
"Close your eyes, Professor. We need you to fall asleep. That will help us see how your subconscious behaves and how your powers behave in it."
"Is it gonna' be worse?" Ames inquired.
"It's going to be raw, theoretically. Worse or better is dependent on the wielder. Although, in your case..."
'Right,' Ames thought, shaking his head. He already knew the answer.
A strange and foreign sensation passed through him without warning.
It left him blinking, taken right out of his thoughts.
'The machine must be malfunctioning because of what I did...'
There it was again, like a wall of descending water traveling from his feet to the rest of his body. It was swift and disorienting, and it was particularly jarring when it passed through his head.
"Oh...," he gasped, his hands gripping the sides of the recliner.
"Professor Andrade? Is everything alright?"
His heartbeat was picking up. He couldn't explain it, but something about the wave told him that something very, very bad was happening. There was something about it, something about how it had felt in its passage through his brain, that was disgustingly familiar.
The feeling of it registered in the same way that his telepathy did.
'Telepathy,' it dawned on him like somebody had lobbed cold water on him. 'Telepathic pulse.'
"Professor Andrade? Is something wrong?"
"Doctor Manawi, you need to see this. His level of brain activity just doubled."
'Why is there a telepathic pulse?!' Ames's heart was beating much faster now. 'It can't be. It can't be, right?'
"His heartbeat."
"Oh my god. Cardiac arrest?"
"No. Doesn't seem like it."
"I swear, if something blows up again..."
Another pulse washed over Ames. It felt different. It wasn't telepathic this time. It was pathokinetic. Pathokinetic, but muddled and weak and failing, as if something potent was deterring it and nearly nullifying it completely. As if it'd had to shatter binds to make it through. This time, it was an overwhelming pulse of alarm.
It wasn't just alarm. There was also desperation.
There was struggle. There was pain. A shock of physical pain and sudden shutdown.
They were all Max's.
Ames shut his eyes, instinctively opening both his telepathy box and his astral projection box. With his telepathy quickly retracing the residue of the pathokinetic pulse in its travel path to a distant epicenter, his etheric form fled his body to travel toward it. The whole reaction took mere seconds, incredibly fast and surprisingly immediate. Accomplished a little too prematurely.
He shaped out in his etheric form fully in the middle of a street. A very familiar one. Before him was a truck, the container of which had been tipped over to its side. The truck was almost identical to the one he had arrived at Division in. A Division truck. Compromised. Max should be in there.
'Found him,' Ames thought. Before he could investigate further, he felt his sudden elevated power use failing. Something was summoning his etheric form back. He noticed the alabaster statues on the right side of the street before being sucked back through space in a blink and pulled back into his body in Division. Without his potent telekinetic camouflage to violently react to his return to his physical body, Ames merely erupted in a loud gasp as he awoke. His eyes opened to the view of the inside of the scanning room. He really was back in his physical body now and that quickly, and although his inner workings had already begun adapting to a higher level of power unlocked, his anxiety was also already through the roof.
"The transport--," Ames struggled with his words in his panic. "The transport was attacked!"
The surprise of his observers was evident on their faces very quickly.
"Max, he--," Ames rolled off of the recliner and onto his feet, much to the alarm of the scientists watching him.
"Professor Andrade! What is going on?"
"I-It's Max!" Ames yelled at the scientists frantically, waving his hand and shattering the blue force field around him. Frightened gasps and shouts erupted around him in an instant. "The transport! They were attacked! I-I don't know where they are for sure, but the transport truck is down and it's in a familiar street... A-and there were statues..."
Everybody else was too startled to make any response.
"Send help!" he yelled at everybody again, feeling a pulse break out from inside of him that caused the octagonal room to shake. Alarmed reactions came up around him again. "They need help!"
The startled observers merely stared at him in fear and apprehension, and his panic worsened at the sight of their incompetence.
'I'm wasting my time here...'
He hurried toward the side of the room facing the door leading into the laboratory, making a sharp pushing motion with his hands as he approached it.
The scanning room wall blew open, forcing everybody near it to jump out of the way.
"Go, dammit!" Ames shouted, breaking out to a run through the fog of dust.
'I have to get to him!'
His thoughts raced, taunting. Infuriating. Disorganized by his panic. He could feel his energy coating his body. He threw his hands out toward the laboratory room door, telekinetically breaking it off its attachments and pushing it to the wall beyond. It crashed loudly. Sharply.
'I have to go now!'
'The familiar street and the alabaster statues...'
'I...'
'I know where he is.'
He rushed out to the waiting area, breaking off to the left as the alarms above him began to blare.
"Code Red. Security Alert. Code Red."