Chapter 2: Strength in Numbers
The cafeteria was a sensory assault, a cacophony of clattering trays and shouted conversations, the air thick with the sour stench of overcooked stew and stale bread. Landon gripped his plastic tray, his muscles tingling with his new speed, a faint hum in his veins. His eyes found Tara, a sophomore with arms like steel beams, her scowl a permanent fixture as she sat at a corner table. Her enhanced strength was his next target, a desperate need overriding logic.
"I can't stay weak," he thought, his heart racing, his desperation an emotional override that drowned out caution. "I need power to protect myself, to protect them." He moved toward her, his steps deliberately jerky, a calculated clumsiness. As he neared, he "tripped," tipping his tray to splash her bright-red drink across her sneakers, the liquid pooling like blood on the linoleum.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, the noise dying to a tense hush. Tara's eyes blazed, her fists clenching, knuckles white. "You did that on purpose, you little creep!"
"S-sorry," Landon stammered, a single tear welling in his eye, his performance honed to perfection. "I didn't m-mean to…"
"You're done!"
Tara's fist was a sledgehammer, a blur of raw power that sent Landon crashing through a table, wood splintering under his weight. Pain screamed through him, a fleeting explosion, then black.
He woke in a storage closet, the air heavy with floor wax and bleach, the cold concrete biting his skin. Muscle cramps clawed at him, a deep, throbbing agony that made his limbs feel like shattered glass. He curled tighter, his breath ragged, his body trembling. "This is so much worse," he thought, his stomach roiling. Guilt hit like a tidal wave, a cold weight in his chest. "I'm using people, playing them like pieces in a game. What's wrong with me?" He pressed his forehead to the floor, the rough texture grounding him against the pain.
[DING! ENHANCED STRENGTH (E-RANK). NOW YOU CAN CARRY YOUR OWN BAGGAGE—BARELY.]
"Real funny," he thought, a pained laugh escaping as he hauled himself up, his legs wobbling like a newborn colt's. He limped into the cafeteria, the chaos still swirling, trays clattering, voices a dull roar. Marie's hand touched his arm, her eyes wide with worry, her touch a startling warmth.
"You look like you got hit by a bus," she said, her voice soft but piercing.
"Just bad luck," Landon lied, his smile weak, the words bitter on his tongue. "She's too kind. I don't deserve it."
Marie's POV shifted, her thoughts a tangle. Why's he so reckless? Something's not adding up. Her concern deepened their bond, a lifeline in this cutthroat world. He's trouble, but he's my kind of trouble, she thought, her resolve hardening.
The gym was a haze of sweat and rubber, the clang of weights and the rhythmic thump of a punching bag a constant pulse. Andre was there, his dumbbells floating in a magnetic dance, a cocky grin on his face as he showed off. Landon sat on a bench, nursing his cramps, a water bottle clutched in his hands, the plastic slick with condensation. Andre's eyes flicked to him, a playful challenge in his gaze.
"Not so tough, huh?" Andre teased, his voice light but edged with competition. "Thought you'd be benching cars by now."
Landon took a slow sip, his sarcasm sharp. "I'd rather be sore than a human disco ball. Your light show's a bit extra, don't you think?"
Andre's grin faltered, a flash of annoyance in his eyes, then widened into a full-throated laugh. "You've got a mouth, man. I like it." He clapped Landon's shoulder, the strength behind it startling, a reminder of Andre's power.
"He's warming up," Landon thought, his stomach knotting with hope. "Maybe I'm not alone here."
[BANTER SUCCESS: RIVALRY WARMING. NOT BAD, QUIPSTER.]
"One ally at a time," he thought, his lip stinging as he bit it.
In his dorm, the quiet was a sanctuary, the desk lamp casting long, flickering shadows on the walls, like ghosts dancing in the dim light. Landon sat cross-legged on the floor, the System's HUD glowing before him, its blue light harsh against his eyes. "I need to be stronger," he thought, driven to impress his new friends, to prove he belonged. He selected the merge function, his fingers ghosting over the holographic symbols. The process was a searing pull, as if his bones were being unraveled and rewoven. Joint pain erupted, a grinding agony in his knees and elbows, making him hiss and grip the carpet, his knuckles white.
[MERGE: SPEED + STRENGTH = KINETIC FORCE (D+). JOINT PAIN'S A MOOD-KILLER, HUH?]
He collapsed against the bed, sweat dripping down his face, his body trembling like a leaf in a storm. "Worth it," he thought, though the pain screamed otherwise. Outside, Cate Dunlap paused at his door, her eyes catching the flickering HUD light, a faint whimper escaping the room. He's more than he seems, she thought, her curiosity a quiet threat, her lips curling into a knowing smile.
The Quiet Moment came late, the dorm silent, the moon's glow filtering through the window, painting the room in silver. Landon sat on his bed, the duffel's strap in his hands, its frayed edges a tactile memory. He saw his mom, her hands packing it for a camping trip, her laugh warm as she sang off-key to jazz. "You're my adventure buddy," she'd said. The ache in his chest was a living thing, a reminder of what he'd lost. "Marie, Emma, Andre—they're my family now," he thought, his fingers tightening. "I'll protect them, no matter the cost."
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
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