A flicker of something akin to interest crossed Ra's al Ghul's face. "And he is aware of this difference?"
"He is aware of his progress, and of its cost," Sensei said, a subtle emphasis on the last word. "He attempts to conceal it, to justify his advancements through common methods, but the sheer speed of his development is impossible to hide from a discerning eye. He does not yet trust us with the full truth of his nature."
Ra's was silent for a long moment, contemplating the fragrant steam rising from his tea. "A metahuman, then. A potential asset of unprecedented value." His eyes held a new, calculating gleam. "What course of action do you propose, Father? How do we cultivate this... gift, and ensure his loyalty to the League?"
Sensei shook his head slowly. "You should examine the boy yourself before setting a plan in place. The boy is smart, and he has already devised a method for training his talent, perhaps even more effectively than we could have designed for him."
"His metahuman talent," Sensei continued, "also appears to be beneficial for other trainees. His batch, because of him, might yield a significantly higher rate of Chi users. That is the expectation, but further observation is necessary; we are not yet certain of that outcome."
"As for the boy's trust in the League, we can discuss that after you have conducted your own research. He is intelligent and remarkably unemotional for someone his age. He is cold, a potentially excellent assassin, but he is also strangely self-aware. The League's usual methods to gain loyalty may not work on him. We would have to get creative if we are to ensure his devotion."
Ra's al Ghul listened to Sensei's assessment, his initial disinterest replaced by a subtle, calculating gleam in his eyes. The fact that Sensei, rarely given to hyperbole, held such a high opinion of this boy, especially regarding a talent as crucial as Chi manipulation, was telling.
"High praise, Father," Ra's mused, a low hum in his voice. "For you to speak so highly of a mere trainee, especially one who seemingly arrived without exceptional talent. A metahuman who can self-regulate his internal chemistry and accelerate Chi mastery... that is indeed intriguing."
He took another slow sip of tea, his mind already spinning with possibilities. "And you say he is aware of his unique nature, yet chooses to hide it, even from us? That speaks to a certain cunning, a pragmatism that is valuable."
He set his cup down, a faint smile touching his lips. "Very well. I will observe this boy myself. If he truly possesses such a gift, and the mental fortitude you describe, then his loyalty will not be merely encouraged, it will be forged." Ra's's gaze hardened, reflecting the cold, ruthless ambition that had sustained him for centuries.
"A powerful tool, if properly wielded" He said then continued "Ensure he continues his unorthodox 'training.' We will see just how far this 'creativity' will take him."
That night, John found Anya waiting for him in the secluded training room. She looked tired, but there was an eagerness in her eyes that even the lingering fatigue couldn't dim. John noted her slightly flushed cheeks, whuch he ignored. He needed to observe her meticulously this time.
"Alright, Anya," John began, his voice calm, yet with an underlying tone of quiet authority. "Tonight, we focus on control. What you felt last night was raw, unfiltered. Today, we learn to process it."
He had her sit in the same meditative posture. Like last time, he raised a hand to the back of her neck, but this time, he deliberately kept a small distance, not making physical contact. He wanted to test if touch was truly necessary to activate her adrenal glands.
A flicker of cold joy sparked in John's heart as he felt a subtle connection, even if it was weak. This confirmed his theory: physical touch was not inherently needed to manipulate another's internal chemistry. He needed contact now only because his own mental reserves were still limited.
With that crucial detail confirmed, he closed the distance, his hand making contact with Anya's back. He focused, channeling his will to manipulate her adrenal glands, inducing the serene state he now commanded.
At the same time, he simultaneously fell into meditation, attempting to create a self-sustaining loop where he was both expending mental energy on Anya and recovering his own mental state. This quickly proved to be a miscalculation. The amount of mental energy he was expending to maintain Anya's serene state was significantly more than he could recover through passive meditation.
John felt a pang of disappointment at his failed attempt to create a self-sustaining loop, but it was quickly overshadowed by a surge of satisfaction. His attention instead turned fully to Anya. Her body was utterly calm, her breathing almost imperceptible, as if she had fallen into a deep meditative trance.
But John needed more from her. The longer she remained in that serene state, the more energy her body would expend to produce the necessary hormones to maintain it. He let his control slip, releasing the subtle influence he had exerted, and Anya instantly snapped out of her profound meditation.
John had no watch, but he knew this duration was significantly longer than their last session. She had held the meditative state for about a minute, perhaps more. Last time, it seemed instantaneous before he wore himself out and her body screamed for hunger. This time, either Anya had been exceptionally well-fed before this session, or perhaps his own mental strength, subtly honed by the morning's Chi training, had indeed grown.
Anya's eyes fluttered open. Her body felt weak, but not with the debilitating exhaustion she'd experienced before. She was about to speak, a soft murmur escaping her lips, when John seamlessly transitioned to his next phase. Last time, her weakness had been a key factor in triggering her fight-or-flight response. This time, John wanted to test if he could trigger that primal state on her when she wasn't already in a compromised, energy-drained condition. He needed to understand the mechanics, the tipping point, for inducing pure terror.
John moved infront of her with a hand placed on her head, this time instead of immediately pushing for the calm, he reversed his strategy. He first subtly induced a heightened adrenaline state within himself, a controlled surge that made his presence sharpen, his eyes gain an almost predatory intensity. He felt his own heart rate quicken, the world around him become crisper, more immediate. This was the first layer of his influence.
Anya's eyes, previously eager, widened slightly. She shivered, a tremor running through her. Her breath hitched. John watched closely as her own primitive instincts began to stir, a response to his now-amplified, almost magnetic presence.
Then, John reached out with his will, nudging her internal system again. Not to calm her, but to intensify that deep fight-or-flight response he'd just triggered. He focused on amplifying the fear, making her own body betray her with a surge of terror. Anya gasped, a small sound caught in her throat. Her muscles tensed, a clear tension in her shoulders, and her gaze everywhere but on him, a desperate urge to flee battling against the instruction to remain still.
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