"State your name."
"Nathan," I said, staring at the reflective wall before me—a two-way mirror.
"Last name?"
"Powell."
The voice on the other side crackled. "It's been two months since you received your limiter. How do you feel?"
"I don't know… I haven't used my Omen. You guys know I have—"
"Gift."
"What?"
"You said Omen. You have a limiter now." More static.
"Not a gift," I muttered, feeling the familiar frustration rise. I was tired of these weekly evaluations.
Limiters, created by Illumen and contracted by the Department of Defense, mitigated the negative effects of an Omen, though they also dampened the potency of the user's ability. For those with more dangerous abilities, the Venator squads would either inject the limiter or erase the individual entirely. The command liked to call the Omen a Gift, a term that made my stomach turn.
The speaker hummed again.
"Why is that, Nathan? Is it because of your brother? Why is it that the members of Crow gave you that callsign when they limited you?"
"Man, I told you two weeks ago—" I began, but I could already hear the twist in his voice. He was trying to bait me.
"The Omen killed my brother. I don't know why someone on Crow gave me that nickname," I said, my words sharp.
"Alright," he said, after a pause. "Starting tomorrow, you're going to Bluejay. Pack your things, you're heading to New Angels."
The New Angels base was situated on the northern side of the city. Five Venator squads operated out of this facility, conducting missions in a city that contained the second-highest Omen percentage in the country. I had come from the Alota Base in upper Nevada, where newly limited individuals were processed. There, it was either rehabilitation or incarceration—more often the latter, for those with weaker or more dangerous Omens. The Department of Defense didn't waste valuable limiters on unstable minds.
I arrived at the skyport gate and saw a red-haired girl in a dark blue jumpsuit with red patches approaching.
"Nathan Powell?" she asked, her voice businesslike.
"That's me…" I replied, noticing how strikingly pretty she was.
"I'm Venator Amelia, callsign Scribe. Follow me, I'll escort you to base via the air-train." Her tone was firm, bordering on rude.
"Sure thing."
"Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am. Nothing else," she snapped. "I won't speak casually to someone beneath me. You won't even honor the Gift given to you."
Yep, she was a piece of work.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied, keeping my voice neutral.
She turned and started walking. "Follow me to the air-train. And only speak when spoken to."
I couldn't help myself. "I heard—"
Before I could finish the sentence, I felt a slight pull in my throat, and no sound would come out. Panic surged in my chest.
A thin trail of smoke curled from Amelia's hands as she turned to face me. Her pen was in her right hand, and she was writing something on a note card.
"I told you to only speak when spoken to. For now, you've lost speaking privileges. My Gift allows me to write things into existence. For example: Nathan Powell cannot speak. Five words maximum, thanks to my limiter. A period activates the condition and burns the writing material. That's why I carry note cards." She smirked. "And that's why you can't talk."
I felt a shiver crawl down my spine. Her Gift was insane. No wonder she was the leader of Bluejay Squad.
The ride to base was silent and uneventful. The air-train hummed through the city, crossing bridges and hovering above streets. We exited and crossed the street into the building lobby. The place smelled like a mix of old coffee and school classrooms. Despite the slightly stale air, it felt oddly welcoming.
Amelia led me through the hallways, offering a brief tour.
"Take this elevator to the fifth floor for the Bluejay dormitory," she said. "We share this building with Woodpecker and Eagle, so don't go to their floors. Your room is number nineteen. The mess hall is on the second floor. A placard in your room has all the information for training and meal times. Any questions?"
I thought the tour ended too quickly. "Is there Wi-Fi?"
She gave me a look that made me feel like an idiot. But I also noticed she hadn't written anything down. Her Gift had a limit.
"There's a placard in your room with the password," she replied, clearly annoyed.
I clicked the elevator button.
"Hey, the tour's not over. Follow me."
Amelia led me into a large white concrete room with a window on the right wall. On the other side of the room I could see another guy in a dark blue jumpsuit, about my age. He had dark hair and was bouncing a rubber ball, staring at me like I was the latest piece of meat to be thrown into the cage.
The door behind me sealed shut with a soft hiss. Amelia disappeared.
"Is this the new guy who doesn't use his Gift, ma'am?" the dark-haired guy asked. He had a slight southern drawl.
I looked at the window. Amelia and four others were watching from behind it.
"What's going on?" I asked, my voice shaking.
Amelia's voice came over the loudspeakers. "Well, Nathan, we can't have a Venator squad member not use his Gift. We're going to have to work to get it out of you. That's why we have Bluejay co-captain Jesse here to help."
The guy in front of me smiled, his rubber ball hovering five feet in front of his face, vibrating in mid-air.
"Al, you may begin."
The ball shot toward me at lightning speed, slamming into my face. I hit the ground, groaning, feeling my cheek already swelling. The ball bounced back to Jesse, who effortlessly caught it.
His Gift must be to launch projectiles super fast, some form of telekinesis maybe. Jesse threw the ball, this time towards the right side of the room. It froze a couple feet from his hand. He then reached behind him into a pouch on his hip and pulled out two more balls. I ran forward to close the distance. Jesse bounced a ball, it froze just a couple inches off the ground as he threw another at the door behind him. He must have froze it in place behind him. I started closing in on Jesse as he threw more rubber balls towards me, he would mix in normal throws with ones he would freeze only for a few seconds, but the ones he would temporarily freeze were much faster and hit much harder. This must be how his Gift works, freezing objects in place and them exponentially growing in speed and power. I dodged his flurry of attacks and was close to him now. He entered a fighting stance, he must me out of rubber balls. Just as I was within range to hit him I saw the rubber ball he bounced on the floor shoot up, barely missing my chin, I moved to the right while he moved left. The ball he had thrown behind him shot at me, I braced myself for the impact but it still ended up hitting my ribs and knocking me over. My breath came in short gasps as I struggled to regain my composure. Jesse caught the high-speed ball mid-air, his movements effortlessly graceful. How could he even catch something moving that fast? No wonder he was the co-captain.
"Come on, man," Jesse taunted, "use your Gift already. I don't like beating up on normal people."
I could barely keep up with him. He was too fast, too precise.
"No way," I grunted, trying to get my bearings. But it was clear I was outmatched.
He reared back for a throw, freezing it once again like I anticipated. I rolled to my right at the moment he released it. I started to move towards him before he could pick up another ball, my odds were better at hand to hand. Just as I was about to get close he smiled and stepped to his right. Just behind him I saw it. The second ball he had thrown right at the start of the fight, I had forgotten about it.
Lights out.
I woke up in a bed, my body aching but seemingly unharmed. There were no signs of the fight—the swelling was gone, and the bruising never materialized. I could barely recall the weird dream I had, I was in a cold barren wasteland, then a city, not this one though. Then finally a forest, trees as tall as skyscrapers. Redwoods haven't existed for almost a hundred years.
As I looked around the room, I noticed it was small but cozy. There was a kitchenette, a large TV mounted on the wall, and movie posters scattered about. But what caught my attention was the other bed.
The bathroom door opened, and out walked Jesse.
"Hey, you're finally awake," he said, tossing me a grin.
"Guess you're my roommate?" I asked, laying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Yep. Only Scribe gets a room to herself." He plopped down on the edge of his bed. "Sorry for beating you up, man. She said it was for training and to not hold back."
"Don't worry about it," I said, rolling my eyes. "I know she just wants me to use the 'Gift.'" I made air quotes.
Jesse chuckled. "So, why don't you use it? It's gotta be something crazy, right?"
I sat up, facing the TV. "I had an accident when I was younger… my brother died because of it."
The room went quiet. I could tell he felt bad for asking, but it wasn't his fault. It was just part of who I was now.
After a long pause, I smiled weakly. "So, what about you? You just throw bouncy balls around for your power?"
"Nah, that's just non-lethal," Jesse said. "This is what I usually work with." He pulled out a throwing blade, flipping it between his fingers.
"So, what's your callsign?" I asked.
He sighed. "Al."
"Al?" I chuckled. "Like Alvin? Is that your middle name?"
"No," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's A-L, for Acoustic Levitation. It's what my power does."
I raised an eyebrow. "How does that work?"
I was always curious how some people's powers could be explained by science. The scientists at the Alota base could never figure out mine, I bet they couldn't figure out Amelia's either, I don't even know where to start with that. That's the thing about Omen's, no one knows where they truly came from or how to explain all of them.
"When I focus on an object I throw from my hands, I can create a standard wave that freezes the object in place. Once frozen in place the object starts to vibrate like hell using the previous kinetic energy as a catalyst. I increase the nodes and antinodes of the wave to amplify the kinetic energy."
Jesse continued flipping the knife.
"When I release the object it shoots out way faster but remains goin' in the direction it was thrown."
I had barely a clue what he was talking about. Jesse talks like he's both dumb and smart at the same time, but it seems like he has to be very intelligent to use a power like that effectively. Hard to imagine how powerful he could be without a limiter.
I nodded, though I was still confused. "Sounds like a lot of science for a power."
"It's a curse," he said with a grin, "but it works… what about you?"