In a large lecture hall, the professor's voice resonated as he spoke.
"In this world, everyone has unique power or magic. Utilising this power efficiently can be challenging at times, it requires actions that could influence your entire life."
The professor continues,
"Scientists and researchers seek to uncover the origins of these abilities and their link to the legendary 'Pages'."
Still speaking,
"Across this planet, different people refer to them by various other names. At this university, we will strive to guide you on the right paths. Ultimately, it is up to you to decide what you want to become and how to control your power."
A boy sitting at the back of the lecture hall whispered
"This is getting so boring..."
Two hours later...
The bell rang, and the students stood up from their seats and hurried out.
Vrit looked to his right and spoke
"Well, would you look at that? Not a single person paid attention to the professor's lesson."
To the person sitting beside him. Kunal, who was in his Twenties, heard what Vrit said, laughed sarcastically, and replied to Vrit.
"Yeah... why am I not surprised..."
Kunal was packing his things up, as so was Vrit. Kunal stood up and said,
"Hey, do you want to discuss anything? Let's meet at the university practice ground or training centres. I have to go urgently!"
"Nah, I'm fine... I'll meet with you there."
"Ohk..Then I gotta go now, Bye!"
"Hmm...."
Kunnal rushed outside, while Vrit followed at a steady pace.
Vrit was talking to himself,
"Sigh... Why did I even choose this university? If only it hadn't been for that!"
A fragmented memory surfaces—a younger Vrit, clutching a pen tightly in his small hand, plunging it into someone's neck.
Stab.Stab.Stab.
The vivid image begins to blur, fading into obscurity as a sharp pain pierces Vrit's head. His breathing quickens, erratic and shallow. He murmurs under his breath, his voice trembling:
"Haa... Damn it... Why now, of all times..."
He rushed out of the classroom running through the university's hallways and entered the washroom.
The washroom seemed completely empty as he stepped inside. Approaching the basin, he turned the tap, letting cold water rush out. He cupped his hands, gathered some, and splashed it onto his face—a brief respite from whatever weighed on his mind.
Just then, a faint noise echoed from the farthest corner of the room. At first, it was barely noticeable, blending into the distant hum of running water. But as he took a step forward, the sound sharpened—clearer now, yet still unsettling.
He heard someone shouting, their voice sharp with anger.
"Haa... Brad! Why? Just why won't you LISTEN for once?!"
"I will... I swear, just don't hurt me—please!" Brad's voice trembled, barely above a whisper.
"When I tell you to do the damn work, you DO IT!" The anger flared again. "Barney, hold him down."
Vrit stood just outside the room. The voices inside grew sharper, but they hadn't noticed him. He strained to listen.
"Barney... Brad... and that voice..."
Vrit's thoughts raced, his breathing shallow.
"It has to be Emileo Montana. Damn it... What the hell is he up to now?"
The muffled sounds of fists meeting flesh echoed through the washroom, It was unmistakable—someone was being beaten, the impact reverberating like a cruel rhythm.
Brad's voice broke through the chaos, raw and desperate. "I'm sorry! Please—I'm sorry!"
His cries repeated, growing weaker with each plea, as if the pain was draining the fight from him.
"Don't hurt me... Please, forgive me!"
Vrit clenched his fists, his thoughts racing.
"Damn it! Before these idiots kill Brad on campus, I need to step in... But this... This still isn't my problem. Fuck, whatever!"
Vrit rushed out of the washroom, shouting in the hallway outside. "GUYS! GUYS! EMILIEO FROM THE SECOND COURSE, HE'S ASSAULTING BRAD IN THERE!'"
A wave of murmurs spread through the hallway as students turned their heads toward the commotion. Whispers grew into excited chatter, curiosity pulling them closer. Some lingered on the outskirts, exchanging hushed speculation, while others hurried toward the washroom, eager to see what was unfolding.
Near the entrance, the crowd thickened. Voices overlapped in frantic discussion, some questioning, some gossiping, others simply watching, unsure whether to step in or stay back. The tension hung heavy in the air—something was happening, and no one wanted to miss it.
Vrit quickly slipped away from the growing crowd as several staff members and teachers approached the scene. As he made his way back, a thought lingered in his mind
"Yeah... That was strange. I don't usually step in for someone I barely know him so why did I?"
With his classes done for the day, Vrit slung his bag over one shoulder and made his way out of the university. Just as he was about to leave, a voice rang out—a frantic shout. He turned, spotting someone sprinting toward him, urgently calling his name.
The person now stood in front of Vrit, breathless, sweat clinging to their forehead. They struggled to speak between gasps.
"Haa... Huff... Were you—the one who shouted?"
He was a student of the same university.
He had a weak body, black eyes, barely had any muscles, and wore spectacles, but he had beautiful and fair white skin that contrasted with dark charcoal-coloured hair...
His hands were marked with deep, fading wounds—hidden beneath his long sleeves, yet still noticeable. Vrit didn't need a second glance to recognize him.
Vrit glanced at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Uh... You might be Broody, right?"
Brad hesitated, confused for a moment before shaking his head. "Uhh... I don't know who Broody is, but I'm Brad. Nice to meet you!"
He extended a hand, offering a handshake.
"Yeah... Nice to meet you, Brad. So, why are you here?"
Vrit kept his hands at his sides, making no move to reciprocate the handshake. After a brief pause, Brad hesitated, then awkwardly pulled his hand back.
"I'm here because I wanted to thank you for helping me out."
Vrit replied
"Uh... I get you were bullied for some reason but I think, you got the wrong person, I'm not the one who helped you out."
Brad said nervously
"How could I be wrong? I heard some people were talking about you, they said that u went crazy and shouted a lot in the corridor..."
Vrit turned, intending to end the conversation and walk away. Yet, Brad stubbornly followed, still talking, his footsteps quick behind him.
Without warning, Vrit halted and shoved Brad back—just enough to make a point. His voice remained unnervingly calm as he spoke
"I don't know what you're trying to pull, but trust me—this won't end well for you."
Brad exhaled sharply, his tone shifting.
"It would be a lot easier if you just admitted you helped me..."
Vrit shrugged.
"Yeah, and I'm just glad the situation didn't escalate any—"
Brad cut him off, his eyes narrowing.
"So you do agree... You were the one who helped me, right?"
"You know... My skill sometimes activates on its own... My Power is [Mind Control], allowing me to manipulate others—but only when I fully unleash my power. And that's not all I can do."
{Passive Attribute}
Vrit's eyes pulsed with an eerie blue glow as he locked onto Brad's gaze. A rush of fragmented memories flooded his mind. He couldn't see faces, only blurred distorted figures—He saw those figures having a conversation.
One of the figures was standing at the place trying to intimidate the other figure who was in front of him, and the voices were also quite familiar to vrit
The tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument.
"Hey, I'm giving you one chance to fix your mistakes. Is that clear?"
The response was quick, almost desperate. "Okay!"
The voice pressed further, its authority undeniable.
"You're going to ask around, find out who shouted in the hallway, and bring that idiot to the side of the road. Got it?"
Vrit froze as the realization hit him like a punch to the gut.
"Oh... Fuck. I walked right into their trap."
Before he could react, a sleek black car with tinted windows screeched to a halt at the side of the road. The air seemed to thicken as two more vehicles followed, pulling up in quick succession.
The doors of the front vehicle swung open, and two figures stepped out with purpose. Without hesitation, they grabbed Vrit, their grip ironclad. He struggled, but it was futile—they shoved him into the black car, slamming the door shut behind him.
Vrit's mind raced as he felt rough hands seize him.
"Well... They've got me now. Let's see where this goes."
From the front seat, a voice rang out, calm yet unnerving.
"Hello, my friend... Vrit, how are you?"
Before he could answer, figures in the back moved swiftly. A black bag was pulled over his head, tight enough to limit his vision, leaving only a small space for breath. The voice continued, unfazed.
"You see, I don't have a grudge against you... Honestly, I didn't even know you existed at the university."
Vrit, clearly uninterested, cut him off mid-sentence.
"Sigh~ Just get to the point already."
The room fell into an uneasy silence, the tension thick enough to cut through.
Vrit broke the silence, his voice steady but indifferent.
"So, I've figured it out. You're Emileo Montana—the bigshot at our university. But honestly, I couldn't care less. Why waste your time and money on someone like me?"
A slight chuckle came from the front seat.
Silence stretched on for what felt like minutes, thick and suffocating. Vrit exhaled slowly, then broke it.
"Hmm... So escaping isn't an option. Fine. Let's talk about what I need to do to stay alive."
A chuckle came from the front seat, low and deliberate.
"Oh... Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you over something so trivial. But you need to understand who I am. If you truly know that, then this all would be much easier."
Vrit's thoughts churned.
"He must know everything about my powers—why else would he send Brad first? But I've heard some rumours... Let's see if they hold any truth."
He spoke, his tone sharp and probing.
"So, your father's not just some local bigshot, huh? And... he's a pedophile?"
The reaction was instant. The figure erupted in fury, his voice booming.
"Where the fuck did you hear that? He's not a pedophile! And he's not just 'like a boss'—he's the boss of this entire fucking state!"
Vrit's thoughts clicked into place.
"So, the rumors about his need for his father's approval and his temper are true," he mused.
He turned to Emilieo.
"I'm guessing you already know about my power—Mind Control."
Emilieo let out a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, of course I do."
Vrit smirked faintly. "Then I suppose you used... drugs to pass your exams?"
"I don't know your problem with me, but don't push me any further. This won't end well."
Vrit exhaled, his voice laced with mock amusement.
"Yeah... Terrifying. Especially when you need your family's name, drugs, your father's influence, and, oh—these ridiculously tight blindfolds just to keep me from using my powers."
"I get that you're trying to provoke me… but we've arrived. And trust me, I remember every word you said."
The car stops after a long drive. Doors swung open, and the passengers from all three vehicles moved in sync, stepping out with purpose. And dragging Vrit with them. He didn't resist—there was no point. All he could do now was listen, picking up scattered sounds from the environment, trying to make sense of where he had been taken.
As Vrit was dragged, the ground beneath his feet felt rough—gritty, like sand or dust. The air was eerily silent, absent of traffic, voices, or any sign of civilization. The isolation was unsettling. Then, a faint scent hit him—chemicals, lingering in the air.
His thoughts raced. "This place… It's distant from normal areas. The silence… the smell…"
And then it clicked.
"A factory!" He muttered, realization dawning in a sharp breath.