Powers Ch. 02

I want to thank Valphund, my wonderful editor. He took a piece that I had self edited and found about 700 faults in it. It's his work that made this story readable.

I'm constantly rewriting though, it's something I can't stop and the version you get now isn't the version he edited so, --- Yeah. All mistakes you find are my mistakes and mine alone.

Vocabulary section:

(I'm thinking of putting this in at the start of all of them for people to refresh. It's probably useless now since there's a section explaining this in the first real scene of the chapter.)

Powers: Ability to turn emotion into energy, also used to refer to this stories "magicians".

Battery: Can give/steal energy to/from others.

Manipulator: Can turn energy into mass.

Shield: All around protection against forces trying to hurt you.

Glove: A tougher shield around your hands.

Popp: Crushing a shield.

Now for Part 2 of Powers. Hope you enjoy my brainchild.

///// /////

I tried to talk to talk to Jenny all summer and she avoided me. So when we were at the airport it was finally a chance to talk, and we snapped at the gate.

"I'm not your girlfriend, alright? That's just that, I'm not. I never wanted to be and I have told you that. We were fun but It's college! I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering what could have been!"

She stormed away and Em sat with me as I broke down.

Then there was boarding. One of the flight attendants knew what happened and upgraded me to first class. I didn't have to sit next to Jenny the whole flight, but I also lost Em.

When we got off the plane she was Jenny's best friend again, not mine.

Everyone was ecstatic on the buss. Sitting there with happy people all around me made me feel even lonelier. Power College was located on a small island in the middle of the sea. Where exactly was classified since Rebels might attack, but it was somewhere in the Caribbean.

Five minutes after we got on the bus I was dropped of in front of a huge building, aptly named The Dorm.

A bored guy crossed of my name from a list and gave me an envelope with a key and some common sense rules. Don't use your Powers in the dorm, no parties after midnight and other obvious rules.

My room was on the fourth floor and I shared a kitchen and 3 showers with 11 other students. There was a welcome to the building party but I didn't feel like it and everyone could see my pain. The first week was a blur, there were get togethers and parties, but I spent it in my room, training. I was totally not moping because I got dumped. Not at all, I promise.

I was probably the only one that looked forward to classes.

***

"Welcome to Powers 101." The Professor was a man in his thirties with his hair on end. "Today will be the introduction to make sure you're all on the same page. Can someone tell me what Powers are?"

A Blonde in the front row bounced in her seat, stretching her arm as much as possible. The Professor pointed at her and she rattled of the textbook answer, like it was what we were here to learn, this was a waste of time.

"Powers are the ability to turn emotions into energy and channel that energy to create matterless inertia."

The Professor smiled and tilted his head. "Do you want to explain that second part?" What a condescending prick, he's lecturing as if we don't know what our Powers do.

"Inertia is a resistance to change." The Professor rolled his fingers in a 'continue' motion. "Mass that hit our energy gain inertia and slow down." That explanation is so simplified it's not really usable. Oh well.

The Professor nods, "Correct." Then he turns to the rest of the class "Now, what are the three types of Powers?" The same girl bounced in her seat. "Anyone else want to answer?" Everyone kept quiet and no one raised their hand. "Sure, if that's the way you want it." He turned to the girl and nodded, "Go ahead."

"Batteries, Fighters and Manipulators."

"Good. Batteries are known for their ability to remove their ego from Power. Meaning they can give or take Power without consent. Manipulators are known for actually being able to create and manipulate mass. Fighters, and I mean true blood fighters, are known for their efficiency in using Power." There was a heavy silence and the Professor's smile slowly died. "Anyone want to tell me why we use colors to represent different emotions in Power?"

The Professor looked around the room and there were no hands up. Even Miss Professor's pet had gotten the idea of the lack of enthusiasm and had died down.

"Okay, it's good that you can admit what you don't know. My research is actually in Powers Colorimeter."

Oh, no, a professor that just goes on and on about his own subject. This is a nightmare. Please make him stop.

"It's extremely interesting. Did you know that there are Power villages in the Himalayas with yellow as their color for anger and red is happiness? It's interesting how our perception of color differs."

No, it's not 'extremely interesting', come on, just finish so we can go home already.

"But, yeah, in the majority of the world, red means anger, blue means sadness and yellow means joy. When we combine all of them we get white, the fancy people call it Love, but that's bollocks. White light is a mixture of all the other colors, nothing more nothing less. The really Powerful Powers can produce Power without any visible light. Powerful Powers Power." The Professor giggled and went, "Say that ten times fast."

Oh, shoot me now. This is the kind of professor people make memes about.

The Professor kept walking back and forward. Writing down random words on the board and then making weird gestures with his hands.

"I know what you all think. What about black? There are rumors about the lack of emotions being harnessed for great Power, but they are just that, unsubstantiated rumors. No one has ever been able to prove apathy as a fuel."

The lecture went on for thirty eight more excruciating minutes and the Professor kept giving us information we already knew.

***

Friday there was the newbie tournament.

I walked into the huge arena in the middle of the campus with about a thousand of us freshmen, from all over the world. It was a bit weird to stroll into the place. I had seen it so many times on TV that I felt like I belonged here, but at the same time this was my first visit.

There were ten 5x5m cages, evenly spread out in a circle, on the floor of the arena. Each of them was a metal construction riddled with cameras. That was the only reason we went to Power College after all, everyone and their uncle would get to see us fight. This was a place to build a brand.

The tournament was a simple 10 rounds winner takes all, best of 3, 2 minute sets. You win a set by breaking the others shield and triggering the protective suit, aka: popping them, or by concessions. In case of time running out, a judge rules, who gets the set. The judges were the Rankers, the top competitors from the all school competition, that happened at the end of each month.

Round 1 I got a bye and the field was cut down to 512 fighters. Round 2 I got a guy that barely could form a shield. I showed him my glowing red glove and he conceded. That happened round three and four as well, not the 'can't form their shield' part, just the seeing my clear red glove and conceding part.

Round five there was finally someone that showed fighting spirit. My heart started to race. Finally I would get to test myself against someone that wasn't Jenny, Em, or a crazy strong adult. Problem was he was faking it, and for almost a minute he ran around the cage before I caught him and put his head through the bars. The white air bags in his suit triggered and protected him from the worst of the impact, but he groaned as I walked back to the middle of the cage. It felt good to get an outlet for my rage.

Round 6 there were sixteen players left. The cages went down and instead a big octagon was raised up into the middle. This also made room for the crowd to sit all around us and the place filled up quick.

We were four North Americans, five Asian, four Europeans and three people that looked to be from different Power tribes. Em, Jenny and I were the only Jankies. We were joined in block NA by a Canadian dude, that looked like a stereotypical Canadian lumberjack. He was a big and muscular redhead with a bushy beard. He even had a horrendous red-green checkered shirt on between his fights.

In the first real round I got one of the tribes' people. He towered over me but probably weighed less, way too wiry for a fighter. He had made a spectacle the last round by jumping around a lot. His style was full of flashy kicks. What a show off.

We got into the ring and did the normal flashing of color. His glove was a clear green, a mix of blue and yellow, sadness and joy. It told me nothing, probably a village trait. My clear red told him everything about me. I was angry and therefore prone to over aggressive mistakes.

Eve had fixed that problem a long time ago. Eve. The pain was still there, everytime I thought of her.

We met in the middle and I greeted him with a quick jab. He tried to get closer but I kept my distance, pestering him with jabs, without any real Power behind them, racking up the points with the judges and driving him back until he lost his cool.

He did the most telegraphed kick ever. For a split second I was sure it was a faint, but, no. He took a big step into my reach, his back leg swung out and I dodged back, ready to surge in. I anticipated how I would punish him, when he did a half jump and turned his kicking leg into the new support and his left leg swung up, catching me in the side. It hit hard and pain shot through my side.

His eyes grew wide, he had thought I would dodge it. He didn't pull back fast enough and I got an easy catch on his leg.

His back was against me, I had his leg in a hold and there was a world of options. The secure route to ending the fight was to sweep the leg.

He lost his balance and was slammed into the ground, face first. That should have been the end, but his shield held, so I followed through with a stomp on his back.

There was a loud groan from the audience. Sure, he got a shield, but stomping on someone that is lying down still hurts, and most people avoid it, I didn't.

He didn't have enough time to get his breath back until set two, and he retreated towards the wall, but that just left him with nowhere to run. I caught him with a jump kick, crushing his shield against the wall.

Em faced one of the Europeans. A very cautious small man. So they danced around the first set. Em got one good flashy kick in at the end and that stood out to the judges, so she won set one. That meant her opponent had to go aggressive set two and that played into her wheelhouse. He was quickly dispatched of. I didn't watch any other matches and instead got a light meal of a couple bananas and kept up for my warmth for the next round.

The field was NA vs Asia in top eight. I got a very small girl, that looked more like a child than the nineteen year old killing machine she was. Her glove was a mirror of my own, a bit brighter but in a lighter shade. It showed more Power but less anger. She was going to be a tough opponent.

Until she walked up to the starting point, bowed, and got kicked into the wall, hard. There was outrage around the ring, but she took her lesson well. Once the clock starts there are no rules.

Set two I danced around her. She tried to get close, but almost half a meter separated our reach. Finally, in a desperation move, she tried to tackle me and yeah. Same thing happened as to Jenny so long ago, my knee shot up and she was done.

The stadium was filling up and the crowd was chanting wildly. "USA! USA! USA!"

Then it was time for the next match. Jenny got a tall guy, and he wasn't fast enough on his feet as she charged in and two quick times she could leverage her Power advantage.

Em fought her style against a normal sized Asian dude. He was clearly a karateka with his blocky moves and strong foundation. Karate always struggles with out-boxers, so Em dominated him, but that's the luck of the draw.

The Canadian guy faced a small Asian lady and did more or less the same as me but he wasn't fast enough when the first charge came and lost the first set. The second set he was ready though, and a wicked elbow chop met her forehead. In the third set she ran out of steam. Her road to that point must have been a lot harder than mine.

The crowd went wild. They kept chanting, "American 5!"

In the top four there was no way around it. NA vs NA. Who would I get? The Canadian looked tired, Em was breathing heavy, but I wanted Jenny now. Winning wasn't even half as important as crushing her face into the ground.

I got into the octagon and Em was on the other side. The crowds' chants made my chest vibrate. It was an overpowering amount of sound. Thankfully it was muffled out when the protections went up.

Poor Em. For all her tries she had never won a fair fight against me and now she was the one that's exhausted. It was almost poetic.

I walked up to the mark and flashed my glove. It was a deep blood red. It said 'I hate you.' Nothing else was needed. She bowed before going to the mark. Clever girl. She touched her mark and the clock started. She jumped backwards as fast as she could.

I slowly inched towards her. She ran around like a scared chicken while I cut her off. She made a break to my right and I sent out a low kick to stop her. She tried to fight back but she was a tired out-boxer with her back against the wall. I knew her pattern of escape and she lacked the Power to knock me out in one punch. Next would be a low sweep and I met it with a knee to the face.

Her shield broke and the protection triggered, but her head crunched against the wall, rattling her brain. She was in no condition to fight and conceded to save strength for the bronze fight.

The Canadian was hunted around the ring by Jenny for a whole round. She let him run, tiring him out for Em without a doubt. When there was thirty seconds left she did a wicked takedown into a mount and pummeled his face to pop his shield. He got the message: she was just playing with him. He did the smart thing and conceded.

The floor was wiped clean as there was a break for a show match. The fourth years had put together a show to motivate the first years. Two teams of five fought it out on a much larger ring. A guy that looked like an older version of the karateka, that Em brought down, was the only guy left standing. It was a show, and maybe not the real skill of people involved. The crowd loved it, and then it was time to raise the smaller octagon again for Em's fight with the Canadian dude.

She crushed him. She had taken more physical damage than him, but she had longer to recover her energy. I spent the time warming up. Even though I had spent that whole day in a tournament, I hadn't been fighting. This was it, my chance to show her who she had messed with. Who the fuck wasn't good enough for her, huh? She was going down.

I walked out onto my mark and flashed my now deep crimson red gauntlet. This was so clear red it screamed, 'I want to murder you!' and the crowd went wild. She flashed her glove and it had the same pure white color as before, even with her cold dark soulless heart still beating in her body she used love as her fuel.

Jenny walked up to her mark and bowed. I did my kick, the crowd winced, but she was ready for it and caught my leg. She wasn't ready for my other foot to stomp her right in her little smug face. My back hit the ground hard but she stumbled backwards. Her little smirk was gone now.

One ninja flip later I was on her. She tried to defend, buy space for herself to take me down, but she was locked into my clinch. I swooped her leg and slammed her face into the ground. Her shield popped but her defenses didn't trigger, habit had kicked in and I didn't hit hard enough.

It was a great opportunity though, I walked back to my starting mark and calmly waited for her to do the same. I wasn't out to win, I needed to humiliate her. She tried to say something, but even with the muffler of the protections the crowd was too loud. I pointed to her mark and the crowd loved it.

She took it and once again I kicked her. This time she jumped back. I stood still at my mark and waited for her. She had tired of my games and circled around. She was the one that had to close in on me, though. I had the reach advantage.

She got low and her arms prepared to defend against the knee, and then she charged at me. I jumped to the side and kicked her in the butt as she passed by. She looked silly, tumbling into the wall. It made me feel better. Watching her struggle was a bandage for my soul. I took the step back to my spot and a yellow card flashed on the side. I was warned for unsportsmanlike conduct. The time ran out before she was back in her spot. Even with the unsportsmanlike behavior I was still clearly the winner of the first set.

The second set she just charged from the get-go. It was sad it would end so fast. My knee shot up and hit her glove, driving it into her shield. It was only meant to buy time, though, as a hard double handed hammer fist drove her into the ground. The round was over, with her standing on one knee in front of me, it was better than any medal. That's what she gets for rejecting me. I flashed my clear red glove and the crowd was loving it.

Em came into the ring and she was furious. Even with the crowd I could understand she was screaming, "Asshole!" at the top of her lungs.

****

Standing in front of five thousand people, and no one knows how many at home, and taking home the first prize was a rush. All my hard work was rewarded, every bruise was worth it. Ten years of struggles, and now it was here. Thing is, it felt hollow. The person I really wanted here was gone. Eve had trained me, taught me all my moves and she wasn't here.

Fifteen minutes later that didn't matter. I was knee deep in drinks, and there's nothing better for the ego than a group of beautiful women hanging on your every word, all my misery forgotten.

I was the 2-0 man. None of the first years stood a chance, and when it got out that Em, Jen, and I, were from the same town the gossip mill got fuel.

One very cute girl came up close and whispered. "What's your history with Jennifer Klingerman?"

I made them all swear to not tell anyone, and I was drunk enough to believe them. Next thing I know the story is on the internet and everyone knows everything.

One of the fourth years from the show match found me. Lucy was almost as tall as me but with a smaller upper body, meaning she had legs for days. Long, well toned, legs with muscles to die for. She was one of the few long haired girls on campus. Meaning she was strong enough to not care about the disadvantage. Her hair was a dark brown, which went really well with her rich tanned skin.

She was wearing next to nothing, and when she asked the age old question, "Want to get out of here?" I was drunk, but not dumb. I nodded, not letting my big fat mouth screw this up.

"Have you had sex here yet?" I shook my head and her smile grew. There were hollering from the people around us when she reached out her hand and dragged me away. She walked with a confident stride, leading the way into a protective bunker looking place.

There are five couples standing, making out in a line. I don't want to be the odd man out, so, when Lucy grabs me, I stick my tongue down her throat. For a second she feels like Jenny, but then her energy hits me. She's a white and her energy is filled with warmth but it carries a heavy blue wave of cold sadness. I take it in and send back my wave of pure white. Her eyes go wide and she breaks the kiss. "You're not a red."