"Room service," said a voice from outside our door.

Myself, Alchemist, and Prophet of Profit are in the presidential suite on our floor. An opulent, overwhelming level of riches went into creating this four-bedroom suite. Stained oak floors, white furred carpets to contrast the floor, every piece in the room is matte black or white. White leather couches constructed out of multiple parallelepipeds only serve as a status statement. They're designed to be seen but not actually used. There are black lounge chairs with long backs shaped like double helices that just barely miss the ceiling. Tables too tall to be sat at, balanced on the top of a glass pyramid, and made of jagged pieces of alternating white and black marble. The kitchen is a mockery of what one would imagine. Single burner range tops, a microwave that's actually a television, a sink that is two inches deep and six feet wide. We're only staying here because it's expected of The Board members. Despite the cost of this room, none of us sleeps here. We all have our own rooms, but this is where we relax and meet. The view from the living room's wall-length window is gorgeous at night, seeing all the cars below moving along in the dark.

Our personal guards are all alert, and they react to the voice immediately. Rules state that all members of The Board are required to have at least one Neuvohuman bodyguard and one human guard at all times. Emerald green spheres of energy surround Bernard's hands. The boy is too eager for a fight. I have tried to impart the idea that fights should be avoided to him, but he doesn't seem to understand it. His suit jacket is on the ground, and his locs are up, tied with a ribbon. Cynthia's a lot calmer; her laser rifle is out and trained at the door, but she's less likely to attack unless we are attacked first. Her hair is cut short to not get in her way, her outfit is pristine, and her aim is nearly perfect. That's the difference between the hot-blooded youths and the wisdom that comes from age.

Alchemist's bodyguard is Jermaine, a handsome, charismatic Caster who could've joined the Heroes' Union or the BNA but chose to follow Alchemist. The scar above his left eye is the only blemish on his face, and all it does is make people respect him. Cole is her human guard, though after the amount of elixirs he's consumed, human might be a misnomer. Cole's wearing the same outfit as the rest of them, but his bright blue mohawk and rainbow irises make him stand out more. He's already unsheathed his katana, itching for a fight. Wanting to fight is a luxury only the inexperienced possess.

Prophet's bodyguard is Gary, a jovial and rotund bearded man with a penchant for laughing at unfortunate times. His human guard is one of the newer hires, Bruce something. He did a few tours down south, hunting would-be warlords.

Alchemist and Prophet are drinking wine and relaxing like we aren't in the midst of an invasion. Our organization is full of eccentrics and unorthodox individuals, but they are among the flightiest members of The Board. The only reason I'm here is to make sure they don't get killed. The two of them are excellent negotiators and have exceptional success rates for deals. The two of them trust me to assess threats and warn them if there is any cause for alarm. I activate my power, setting my temporal marker and beginning the three-minute timer.

Marker One-First Scenario

"Alpha One," I ordered.

Bernard punches out, sending two emerald-green kinetic fist projections at the door. The doors explode outward into jagged wooden shrapnel. Before the splinters have fallen, Cynthia fires through the opening, leaving glowing holes in the wall behind it. Where are they? A shirtless black man wearing a golden hockey mask appears. No, that's the man we spoke to days ago. Isaiah is his name. The one who said he works for the person who wants to sell powers. Cynthia fires her laser rifle again, the blasts hitting him center mass. His skin is lightening from her shots, but it isn't burning a hole through him. Bernard charges him, excitement evident on his face—the foolishness of youth.

Isaiah seems content to let Bernard continue his charge. Bernard sends a punch out when he's a few feet from the man. The attack hits him head-on, and he explodes into smoke. The smoke starts filling the room as Isaiah's taunting laugh echoes in my ear. As the rolling cloud of black approaches us, Gary creates a milky white cube in his hands. The cube starts expanding until it encompasses everyone but Bernard and Cynthia. His murky barrier is completely translucent from inside. My two fellow Board members aren't even watching what's happening. Gary's defensive ability is potent, but it's a mistake to think it's perfect.

A hand forms out of the smoke, knocking on the outside of the cube. I cannot see what's going on due to the smog, but those two should know what to do. Cynthia and Bernard should be wading through the room, trying to find the attacker. Gary's power prevents sound from escaping or entering his cube, so I cannot issue commands. This attempt is useless as we lose precious seconds to waiting. Suddenly, the smoke begins swirling into the middle of the room, into the smoky form of Isaiah. Cynthia turns to shoot at the man, when he appears behind her with a gun. Cynthia's brains splatter the floor, and her body falls forward, lifeless. Where did he get that gun? The smoke decoy disperses, and Bernard rushes at the real one. He swings a right hook, and Isaiah rotates his body out of the way as the kinetic projection destroys the kitchen portion of the suite. He grabs Bernard's arm, puts his other hand on his shoulder, and rips his arm off. My bodyguard screams as blood bursts out of his socket, but his screams are cut short by a punch to the neck that snaps it, killing him.

Marker One-Second Scenario

"Alpha Two," I ordered.

Bernard slaps his hands together, sending out two green hands that destroy the doors and the walls surrounding that side of the room. Cynthia and Bernard run toward the dust cloud kicked up by the crumbling wall. I hear Cynthia's laser rifle repeatedly firing, and then it stops suddenly. The hallway is full of smoke now, and I don't have any visibility on the situation. There is an eerie silence in the air, and my nerves are starting to fray.

Just as I'm starting to relax, Cynthia's severed head comes flying through the smoke, rolling until it reaches us. Her eyes have been plucked out, and her cheeks cut up into a Glasgow Smile. Is this a different person? The smoke is from Isaiah, but he didn't seem the type to do something like that. Bernard's body slowly emerges from the hallway. He's got half a dozen different blades stuck into him, including a cleaver lodged into his forehead. Behind him is that oddly dressed girl. Tuesday. She's struggling to hold him up as she walks forward.

"Greetings and salutations. It's all clear; definitely not a group of Cowls ready to attack us," she said with an overly deep voice.

"Put his body down, Tuesday. Let's talk," I said.

"What're you talking about, Mr. Kim? I can't be derelict in my duty. I need to protect you," she said.

Jermaine and Cole move before she can continue the charade. Jermaine jumps from behind his charge, splaying his fingers out. Thin red beams of energy come out of each finger. They all move independently, taking sharp turns to spread out and entrap the assassin. Cole lowers his body to the ground as he runs at her. Jermaine's attacks are boxing her in, preventing her from escaping. Cole slashes through Bernard's corpse, cutting her sweater and leaving a gash on her abdomen. Unfortunate, he couldn't slice her open.

Female arms covered in scars sprout from the back of Cole's suit and smack his ears. He falls to the ground, clutching the sides of his head. Blood is leaking from beneath his hands; his ears are missing. How? She couldn't do that last time. Or was she hiding her full potential like Isaiah was? I'm eager to meet whoever they work for. A set of arms appears on Jermaine's back as well, reaching around to his neck and interlocking fingers before yanking backward. The hands have too many fingers to count. Jermaine struggles against it, but they're choking him to death. More hands appear on the furniture around us. The hands are all making the same odd hand sign with the pinky and pointer finger up while the thumb, middle, and ring fingers are touching. There are functioning eyeballs on the pinky and pointer fingers, watching us. I see something on the palms of the hands, but it isn't until they open that I can tell what it is; there are full mouths with teeth and tongues on the hands.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"Naughty, naughty, attacking for no reason isn't nice," Tuesday said through the hands.

Gary activates his ability, and soon, we're all safe inside the cube again. The hands wither into nothingness within the cube—finally, some useful information. The cube cuts off contact and sound. Is that what destroyed the hands? This scenario is a bust. I'll have to check next time.

Marker One-Third Scenario

"Alpha Three. Two confirmed. Jermaine, Cole, go with them," I ordered.

I've worked with Jermaine and Cole before. They're privy to aspects of my power and know I wouldn't give them an order unless it were needed. The four of them spring into action. Cynthia takes a position to the left of the doors, with Jermaine and Cole on the right. Bernard sends a palm projection blasting out, blowing the doors back into the wall, and the rest quickly go through the opening. I hear the sounds of fighting as they intercept the interlopers. A person comes crashing through the wall, and it's a new one: a short, wide man wearing black and a rubber werewolf mask that looks like it couldn't have cost more than ten dollars. What does this one do?

He stands up, dusts himself off, and points his palms at us. A stream of fire erupts from his hands, burning everything in its path. Gary's not expecting it and is too slow to activate his power. The flames engulf Gary, Bruce, Prophet, and Alchemist, incinerating them to ash. I dive to the side, rolling out of the way of the flame. I feel the fire lick my back, and the heat in the room is suffocating. I make a last-ditch effort to glean more information and rush at the wolf mask. He reacts calmly and adjusts his aim to engulf me. Three assailants. Are there more? The pain only lasts for a moment before I'm charred to a crisp.

Marker One-Fourth Scenario

"Alpha Four. Three confirmed," I ordered.

I get up off the couch and walk toward the suite's doors. Bernard and Cynthia fall in line behind me. I rip the door open and jump out into the hallway. This scenario won't be long; I just want to confirm how many people I'm dealing with. Bernard and Cynthia follow me and stand behind me, ready to attack.

Besides Isaiah, Tuesday, and the wolf mask, there are four other people. All of them are wearing face coverings to conceal their identities, but one of them is different. In the very back is a man with a white helmet. The helmet is projecting the blue face of a young woman who is watching me curiously. The lifelike projection raises an eyebrow at my entrance.

"Ah, you must be Mr. Kim. You seem to be in quite a hurry. Is something the matter?" The man asked in a perfect rendition of my voice.

I've been doing this for years, so my face doesn't betray the surprise I'm feeling at hearing the sound of my own voice coming from someone else. He has to be the leader. This is the man they chose to follow so fanatically? He's so calm, as if he's taking a walk instead of leading an assault on us. All that's left is to try and learn more before the scenario ends.

"Yes, I am Mr. Kim of The Board. And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?" I asked.

"Come on, Mr. Kim. I can't make it that easy for you. How about this? I'll tell you who I am if you tell me which attempt we're on. It must be an early one if you're rushing out here, especially if you haven't even gotten my name yet. The desperation you're displaying confirms two things for me. The first being that my plan is clearly working, and the second is that your ability has a limit to it," he said in my voice.

This time, I can't keep the shock off my face. How does he know about my ability? Is he a Mentalist? He is quite dangerous if he's able to figure out how my power works. Even if he only has a vague guess about how it works, it's still a remarkable sense of deduction.

"So you're the one that Isaiah and Tuesday work for. I must confess it has been quite a while since the last time I met someone who had even an inkling of what I can do. But that doesn't mean-"

"Stop stalling," he interrupted, brandishing a pistol.

The masked man starts shooting at us. A bullet grazes my arm, and another hits Cynthia in the thigh. She returns fire, but a woman wearing tattered clothes jumps in front of the shots. Before they hit her, she transforms. A Shifter. Her white skin darkens, becoming black as obsidian while her body grows larger. The lasers harmlessly hit her, and they don't even ignite her clothes. The woman is a monster, standing ten feet tall and built like a Greek God. The top of her hoodie is scraping against the ceiling. Her eyes look like miniature suns, and there are magma lines crisscrossing the parts of her skin I can see through the gashes in her clothes. Her outfit transformed with her, growing and becoming a hardened, dark gray rocky material.

Cynthia continues to shoot at her, aiming for the face in hopes of hitting a weak point. The shots don't even leave a burn mark, but Cynthia doesn't stop shooting as the monster approaches us. Bernard launches a few first projections at her, and she doesn't budge a millimeter. They smash against her body like waves crashing against a cliffside. My guards' attacks do nothing to slow her advance. She marches forward unimpeded, like a promise of death. The volcanic creature stops in front of me, looking down at me as if I were an insect. I stumble away, falling onto the floor as she reaches for me. Behind her, I see the projected face of their leader. He looks bored.

Marker One-Fifth Scenario

"Alpha Five. Gary, get ready," I whispered.

"Did you say room service, dear? Come on in," I yelled out.

The door opens, and Tuesday and Isaiah are standing there. They enter casually, looking around the room like they don't have a care in the world.

"Room service is closed, but we could probably order a pizza. I'm sure somewhere gotta be open," Tuesday said

"What a nice room you've got here. Thanks for inviting us in," Isaiah said.

"Of course. I'd hate for someone to say that The Merchants are rude. Why don't the rest of you come in and join us?" I asked.

"The rest of us? Gramps, it looks like your mind is slipping in your old age. It's just the two of us," Tuesday blatantly lied.

"There are five other people in your party, including your boss with his white helmet," I countered.

The sound of clapping comes from the hallway; it grows louder as the source gets closer. Their leader walks through the doorway, flanked by the Shifter and the fire user. The other two members follow behind them. His helmet is projecting an amused face, but he could be faking it.

"Hello, Mr. Kim. It's a pleasure to meet you again. I'm curious about how our introductions have gone so far. What have you managed to learn about us?" He asked me.

The seven of them are now inside the suite. We outnumber them nine to seven, but quantity rarely beats quality. He's young. There's an arrogance to their leader that makes me want to crush him. But that is my pride speaking.

"You die in most of them, so we haven't had a chance to speak much," I lied.

It doesn't matter if he's figured out my power; only one of us is capable of remembering what happens in our interactions. He might have prepared several strategies, but I will slowly draw them out until none of their cards are hidden from me. Your bag of tricks isn't bottomless, and my time is near infinite.

"V, I believe this man needs a demonstration of what happens to liars," the man said.

The Shifter, V, transforms, and it would be intimidating if this were the first time I saw it. I signal to Gary to activate his power. The cube begins growing as she walks toward us and finishes just as she reaches us. I can't hear what they're saying, but the helmet's face doesn't look pleased with the situation. V presses her giant hand against the wall, increasing the pressure, but Gary's power holds out. She cocks back her arm and punches the cube wall so hard I stumble inside of it. That has never happened before. She punches it again, and Alchemist screams as the wine bottle is knocked off the table to the floor. Her hits are getting harder and faster as she gets into a rhythm. All of us are trapped inside the shaking cube, and the chances she gets through are only getting higher the longer this goes. As if spawned into existence by my thoughts, a single crack appears on the spot she's been repeatedly hitting. Her whole arm plunges into the cube like she's trying to find a specific prize in a bag. The last thing I see before the scenario ends is her looking at me through the hole in the wall, her burning eye glaring at me.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.