Micheal tapped the corner of his eye again, "Some family's have it from birth, while others don't." He said. Tucker looked up at the ceiling and asked, "Presence eyes?" Micheal smirked, "I can teach you all about it if you boys want me to." Shirley's eyes wandered around the room as he got lost in his thoughts. "The power to bend others to your will…" he thought. "I could control everyone to get off their phones." Shirley drowned in the thought of what he could do with the presence eyes. Both of the boys snapped back into the world and faced Micheal. "Let's do it!" They said unitedly. Michael stood before the boys, his hands clasped behind his back, his voice steady but tinged with gravity. "Presence Eyes," he began, his gaze sharp enough to cut through the tension. "They're not just a tool or a weapon. They're a manifestation of will, emotion, and self. When you inflict a presence on someone—fear, strength, calmness—you aren't just changing how they feel. You're imposing your reality onto theirs. The stronger your presence, the more the world around you bends to it."
He pointed to his own eyes, which seemed to glimmer faintly in the dim light. "But there's a catch. Every presence carries a price. If you impose strength, your body bears the strain. If you impose fear, it may reflect back on you if your will falters. And if you lose control…" Michael paused, his voice lowering. "Well, let's just say, unchecked presence can destroy not just others—but yourself."
Shirley and Tucker exchanged a wary glance as Michael continued. "The strength of your Presence Eyes doesn't come from raw power alone. It comes from understanding. Understanding your own emotions, your limits, and the emotions of those around you. You don't just overwhelm someone with force; you overwhelm them with certainty—certainty that your reality is stronger than theirs."
Michael stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "But remember this: the stronger the presence you inflict, the greater the resistance you'll face. If someone's will surpasses yours, their presence will crush yours. That's why mastery isn't about brute force. It's about balance, control, and knowing when to strike… and when to step back."
He glanced between the two boys, his tone softening slightly. "You've both felt it already. The weight, the pull, the way the air seems heavier when you're in its grip. That's the essence of Presence Eyes. But you've barely scratched the surface. If you want to survive what's coming, you'll need to go beyond the surface."
Michael leaned against the wall, his eyes glowing faintly as he began to speak. "The Presence Eyes are a powerful gift, but they are as dangerous as they are useful. Each type of presence you can inflict is born from the emotions and intent you channel. The Commanding Presence is the most straightforward. It exerts your will over others, forcing obedience or respect. It can make allies follow you without question—or enemies kneel in submission." His gaze sharpened as he continued.
"Then there's the Strength Presence. It amplifies physical abilities, making you or someone else stronger, faster, and tougher. But it comes at a cost. Overuse drains your energy and leaves you vulnerable." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before moving on.
"The Fear Presence is the most unsettling. It sows panic and dread, paralyzing even the bravest opponents. Entire armies have crumbled under its grip. In contrast, the Calm Presence can pacify chaos, steady minds, and bring clarity in the midst of turmoil."
He hesitated for a moment, his voice growing quieter. "There's also the Hope Presence, a rare type. It can inspire resilience, strength, and faith in yourself or others. It's a light in the darkness, but it requires genuine intent to wield effectively."
Finally, Michael's tone darkened. "And then there's the strongest—and most dangerous: Absolute Presence. This isn't just power; it's domination. It strips someone of their will entirely, making them your puppet. Few can wield it without losing themselves in the process. Absolute Presence takes more from the user than they realize, leaving scars that may never heal."
He stepped forward, his intense gaze locking onto the boys. "Every presence has a purpose, but remember this: it's not about what you can do—it's about why you do it. Power without purpose will destroy you faster than any enemy."
Michael's voice softened as he straightened. "Now, go get some rest. The bedroom is at the end of the hall on the left. Training starts tomorrow."
Shirley and Tucker nodded, their minds buzzing with everything they'd just learned, and headed down the hall. The bedroom was simple but luxurious. The walls were a clean white, the air carried a faint, soothing scent, and two queen-sized beds sat side by side—one draped in a blue blanket, the other in green.
Tucker wasted no time, launching himself onto the left bed. He sank into the plush mattress before springing back up, grinning. "This is amazing!" he shouted, bouncing a few more times, his white hair flying wildly around his face.
Shirley laughed, diving onto his own bed. He sank into the soft embrace of the mattress and popped back up, mimicking Tucker's enthusiasm. The two boys laughed and joked, the weight of the day momentarily forgotten as they enjoyed the unexpected comfort.
"This is the best bed I've ever slept on," Tucker said, flopping onto his back.
Shirley nodded, stifling a yawn. "Yeah… definitely better than home."
As the room grew quieter, their excitement gave way to exhaustion. Within minutes, both boys were fast asleep, their laughter fading into peaceful silence.
MORNING
The morning arrived with the sharp clang of a metal bell echoing through the halls. Tucker and Shirley jolted awake, their hearts pounding as they scrambled out of bed. The pleasant comfort of the previous night was quickly replaced by the realization of what lay ahead.
"Get up," Michael's voice called from the other side of the door, calm but commanding. "You've got five minutes to get ready. Training starts now."
Tucker groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Five minutes? Seriously?"
Shirley was already halfway to the door, pulling his shoes on. "Come on, Tucker. You remember what we talked about last night, do you?"
The two boys hurried into the hallway, where Michael stood waiting, arms folded. He gestured for them to follow as he led them to a spacious, dimly lit training room. The walls were lined with strange, ancient symbols, and the air carried a faint metallic tang. In the center of the room were several training dummies, a set of weights, and a glowing blue crystal embedded in the floor.
Michael turned to face them, his eyes faintly alight. "Today, you're going to learn the basics of channeling your own presence. Before you can manipulate others, you must master yourselves."
Shirley exchanged a nervous glance with Tucker. "Uh, is this going to hurt?"
Michael smirked. "Only if you don't pay attention."
He walked to the glowing crystal and placed his hand on it. The room seemed to hum with energy as the crystal pulsed, sending faint ripples of light across the floor. "This crystal will help you focus. Presence isn't just about emotions—it's about intent and control. To start, I want you to stand here and focus on the crystal. Clear your mind and feel the energy flowing through you."
Tucker frowned. "That's it? Just stand there?"
Michael's gaze hardened. "Try it and see how easy it is."
Shirley stepped forward, placing his hands on the crystal. As soon as he did, he felt a strange warmth spreading through his fingertips, but his mind quickly filled with distractions—memories of home, doubts, and questions about the training. The warmth turned sharp, almost uncomfortable, and he yanked his hands away.
Michael shook his head. "You're letting your emotions control you. Focus. Let go of the noise in your mind."
Tucker stepped up next, hesitating before touching the crystal. He felt the same warmth, but unlike Shirley, he clenched his jaw and forced himself to hold on. The warmth grew stronger, spreading through his arms and chest. His mind fought against it, but he refused to let go.
"Good," Michael said, his voice low but approving. "You're stubborn. That'll help."
Tucker released the crystal, panting slightly, and turned to Shirley with a smirk. "Beat that."
Shirley rolled his eyes but stepped forward again, determined not to be outdone. This time, he closed his eyes and focused, letting the warmth of the crystal guide him. Slowly, the distractions faded, replaced by a calm, steady rhythm.
Michael nodded. "Better. Both of you are starting to understand, but this is just the beginning. The real challenge comes next."
He snapped his fingers, and the training dummies sprang to life, their wooden limbs moving with surprising speed and precision.
"Your task is simple," Michael said. "Channel your presence—any presence—and take them down. But remember: brute force won't save you. Use your intent. Control your energy. Let it flow through you."
Shirley and Tucker exchanged uneasy glances, but there was no time to hesitate. The dummies were already moving toward them, their wooden arms swinging with mechanical precision.
"Let's do this!" Shirley shouted, diving to the side as a dummy's arm swung past him.
Tucker clenched his fists, focusing on the rhythmic energy he'd felt earlier. He stepped forward, dodging a blow and striking back with surprising speed. A faint shimmer of energy surrounded his hand as it connected with the dummy, sending it stumbling backward.
Michael watched from the sidelines, his expression unreadable. "Good," he murmured to himself. "But they'll need to do more than that if they want to survive."