Rays of violet light shone right into my eyes. It was calm, peaceful, yet somehow infuriating.
Was it even the light, that made me so mad? I was practically boiling.
Why was it so? What had happened?
I recognised this place. A cave of levander crystals, and a haze surrounded me. Just a few steps before me, there was a certain little lake. I know this place. I've been here previously.
But where is it even? I mean this isn't even the first place I'm here, and it hasn't changed at all.
Am I in a different dimension...? Or maybe in my head...?
Without answering those questions, I started walking. As per usual, I walked past the lake, down the path, which this time, had some makeshift wooden lanterns dotted around it, and finally making my way to the end of it. The "Throne," as I thought of it.
And once again, it looked a little bit more, well, sophisticated. This time, in addition to the backpanel, it also had two armrests, on each side, and it even seemed a little bigger.
"I want to sit in it," I said.
After a moment of silence, behind the Throne itself, I saw the silhouette of a large man emerge from the mist.
"Soon," he said, with a deep voice.
----
I felt really dizzy. I assume this is what being drunk might feel like, as I knew I was lying down, but I delibaretly needed to search for something to hold on to, not to fall.
It felt like someone hit me with either a huge blunt object, or with an almost deadly dose of nerve poison.
Now which one was it again?
As I sat up in my bed, I clinged onto the bedside, just for extra measure. It took way more energy from me, than it should have, but finally I managed to do it.
Once I looked around the room, I noticed Halla, sitting right in front of me, across the cell, on top of his own bed.
"Thanks for guarding my food, son," he said sarcastically. I could even detect a hint of disappointment from his tone.
"I'm sorry Old Man. I felt like I needed to do this," I said, trying to explain my circumstances.
"I guess it was inevitable," ha said, while shaking his head, "You have your power, after all."
"I can't just blame everything on that, though," I said, seriously thinking about my situation.
"No, I assume not. Although," he paused for a second, "From what I heard, previous users were similar to you as well. They just couldn't stop, if they wanted something."
"We're quite greedy, aren't we?" I laughed, albeit halfheartedly.
Right after, I heard a loud banging on the door.
"999, get your ass here," said the guard.
"Coming," I replied, then waved to the Old Man, and walked out through the now opened door.
He then ordered me to follow him, and so I did. I didn't know if I was in trouble, or if he just wants to treat me to a nice warm cup of milk, but I'll let you guess this one.
Soon, we arrived to the Vice-Warden's office. From the outside, it looked just like a cell, bar the bars. Upon entering, it was almost what I expected. Paintings on the walls, a giant desk, and a pair of sofas were just a few of all the decorations in the room. The window, that was behind the desk was looking out to the courtyard, giving Russel quite the vantage point over us.
The man himself, was sitting at his desk, seemingly working on some paperwork, but I wouldn't be surprised, if he was actually playing sudoku.
"Wait here, until the Vice-Warden talks to you," said the guard, and left us.
Silence ensued, as I was expecting. How long is he going to make me wait? Five? Ten? maybe even half an hour?
There was nothing to be done, I just had to wait.
While waiting, I spotted a water dispenser. I was quite thirsty, after just waking up, from God knows how long of a sleep, so I decided, that I should pay it a little visit. I took small sidesteps, almost unnoticable ones. After a few dozen of them, over the span of a minute or two, I finally managed to reach the dispenser.
I took one of the plastic cups under it, and promptly placed it under the tap. I opted for going with the light stream, as it wouldn't make that much noise.
"Sure, serve yourself," the Vice-Warden suddenly said, with his beautiful cold and sarcastic tone.
"Thanks," I said, and downed the water in one go. I could see him facepalm, even though he didn't move an inch.
After another few minutes, and like three more cups of water, he finally graced me with his attention.
"Not gonna beat around the bush. Your sentence had been decided," he stated.
"Great, so can I go home now?" I asked sarcastically.
"Wish I didn't have to see you anymore, but I'm afraid that's not the case," he said. At least I'm not getting death row, "Given the fact that you murdered a fellow student, the least amount of time you could get is three years. That's the bare minimum. But given the circumstances, and two other students being the witnesses, and most of your other schoolmates, along with your teachers saying that they wouldn't put murder past you, you'll be serving here for the next half a decade. You'll be officially dismissed on your twenty-third birthday."
"That's quite the birthday present, Vice-Warden," I added sarcastically, "I hope we'll get along."
After a second of silence, I decided to say my goodbyes for the time.
"I guess, we'll be seing each other soon, so I'll get going then."
"Don't rush, just yet," he stopped me.
"Is something the matter, Sir?" I asked not at all politely.
"We'll be going through the events from the Mess Hall as well," as you do.
He offered me a seat, which lead me to believe, that this was gonna take some time.
"I'd like to hear what had happened," he said.
"What do you mean, you saw what happened," I replied.
"You know exactly what I mean. Start talking, now," he added with a sort of uncharacteristically agitated expression.
"This huge dude wanted to take my seat. I didn't like the idea," I summarized briefly.
"So how come, that one of his own lackies threw 325 to the ground?"
"So that's Bossman's number. Baulder sympathized with me. That's all that happened, really." I said.
"Bossman, huh. Inmate Number 325, real name Joe "Sto" Statman, is a very well known criminal, known for mostly assaults, burglary, kidnapping and blackmail. I find it hard to believe, that one his men would turn on him this easily. What did you do? Is it your [Power], that you used?" he said, barely making any facial expressions in the process, yet I seemed to feel that this was something personal.
"What, you don't believe me? I just asked him, if he wants to help me." I lied.
"That's not the exact phrasing, from what I heard from the others involved. 456, and 457 both said, and I quote, 'He asked Baulder to beat the boss up.' Does that sound more accurate?" he asked. Again, with that weird agitation. Am I pissing him off?
"Don't ring a bell," I said with a poker face, "It kinda sounds biased. How would I be able to tell a grown man what to do?" I asked, frankly, sort of asking myself the same question.
"There have been reports, that some of the guards, that were assigned to your solitary confinement cell, have been giving you some extra rations, and even some extra items, that you weren't supposed to have. Like your razor, for example." He said.
Fuck, I was discovered.
"I mean could be my [Charm], couldn't it?" I said in response.
"Don't play with me. We both know that a regular [Charm] can't do that much."
"It does sway people to my opinion," I replied, "But if you're unsure, why don't we go and pay a visit to an Inspector. They'd know for sure, and I wouldn't be able to pull any tricks, right?" I said.
"Very well," he said after a second of thinking, "Why don't we do that."
With that, he picked up his phone, rang someone, and asked for an immidiate dispatch of an Inspector to his office.
Inspectors, for those unaware, are highly trained doctors, most well versed in the concept of [Powers]. They use a variety of equipments, to determine what every superhuman's powers are.
In my case, when I went to one, which is mandatory for all citizens, I had a few wires attached to my head, they took my blood, and deduced, that my ability is [Charm], although the ÍInspector at the time was slightly unsure, as he never seen some of my values.
Now that I think about it, it probably was my [Willpower], but that's a guess.
A few minutes later, I heard knocking on the door, and a white coated masked fellow walked in.
"Nice to see you again, Russel," he greeted the Vice-Warden, as a friend he didn't see in a while.
"You too, Malcolm," replied Russel.
"Are we checking this boy, then?"
"Yeah," Russel's voice sounded cold, as always, "999, get up, and have the doctor check you."
So, I did. We went through a little bit of this endeavor, and when the Inspector leaned in, to attach one of the wires to my head, I whispered into his ear.
"Don't tell anyone about my power. It's just a [Charm]."
I tried to lower my voice enough, that he'd definitely would hear it, and the Vice-Warden wouldn1t, which wasn't the easiest thing to do. He replied, with a "Yes, Milord," and went through with the testing.
Once we got to the end, I sat up, with a slight smirk on my face, and awaited further instructions.
"I'm sorry Russel, but it's just a [Charm]," he said, with a slight sadness in his voice, turned to me, and as he packed up, he whispered to me.
"I await your rise to the Throne, Godly One," and he left.