“I sense a disturbance in your Psy.” Hazimon spoke steadily.

  “Naw fam. You tripping.” I told him bluntly. Once more thanking the Drake for how emotionless my face now was.

  “Your speech patterns also changed.”

  “Nuh-uh.” I countered.

  His seahorse face contorted a bit.

  “Look. I understand that my reaction might have been less than ideal. I guess, I don’t know. I guess it was very surprising.”

  “Really?”

  “I would have been less surprised if you told me you had Gingivitis. Or whatever the seahorse equivalent of Gingivitis is.”

  “What’s Gingivitis?”

  “Never mind that. Explain to me why you only got two levels in a week. I am dying to know.”

  “Before that, you should know that our contract has an expiration date and I have killed people for less.”

  “I’m sorry sir. Yes sir. Of course sir. Please forgive me. Dusty hit me upside the head during training and I haven’t been the same since.”

  He blew a few more bubbles.

  “Fine. Apology accepted.” He shook a bit more on the chair. Grinding his body against the fluffy cushion.

  “Now, as for the issue of my own failings, it mostly has to do with the way us Savants perceive Psy, versus how normal Espers do.”

  I nodded.

  “Tunnel vision. You hyperfocus of doing things one way and anything else seems stupid and disjointed. Yes. I remember us talking about it last time.” I paused for a second. “I also talked about this with the Drake. He agreed that it was very hard to visualize any other way of doing things.”

  “Nigh impossible.” Hazimon agreed. “I had assumed, since you yourself managed to so quickly grasp Shifter powers, that your ability would be able to circumvent that blockage.”

  He snorted a small trickle of liquid from his tubular mouth.

  “I was wrong.”

  ‘Clearly.’ I thought to myself.

  Now, on the one hand, I could absolutely empathize with Mr. Seahorse here. Shifter powers were a (Gnome) to grasp at the best of times and that was after snapping off a literal chunk of the Draker’s Psyche and processing it through a Tier 10 ability.

  I could also see how he would’ve struggled. Since, unlike me, he’d been alive for eons. All while doing things one very specific way. That, and I hadn’t given him too many memories to work with.

  Regarding the Telepath Type, he had the recollections of 6-year-old Sully during the year when I’d gone bananas on my own universe. I knew first hand that it was a lot to process. Given how it had taken the old me a whole year just to get my own powers to stop.

  As for the rest of what he had, it related to my daily life as regular old Sully. After I suppressed everything that had happened. Which had little relevance to Telepathy at large.

  On the other hand, that meant he’d also had a front-row seat to a whole year of me experiencing a near-infinite number of pasts, presents that did not come to be and potential futures based on the real present and all the presents and pasts that had not come to be.

  To call it a mind-(Gnome) would have been the greatest understatement since the old Chinese Emperors thought Genghis Khan had a bit of a temper.

  Even if it was all jumbled up, he did get most if not all of it from our exchange.

  He should have gleamed some insights from the blast.

  “How did you acclimate to the memories I gave you?” I asked pointedly. “I know it was a bit confusing…”

  “That is the single greatest understatement that has ever been uttered by any creature in the entire history of the Labyrinth.” He cut in.

  “Yes. I do understand that. But still. You should have understood a fair bit about how Telepathy involves separating yourself from… well… yourself. That really is the whole schtick.”

  “Once more, you hit the nail on the head without knowing much about the Labyrinth’s philosophy.” Hazimon commented.

  “Actually, I do know quite a bit. I have the Drake’s memories and a future sight that, while not perfect, is still better than most.”

  He huffed.

  “If there was a single word to describe the Seeking Drake, it would have been Megalomania. If there was a second, it would have been sociopathy. That beast was not allowed in the higher circles of learning. And most of the real masters are beyond your [Limited Omniscience]. Just as I am.”

  He paused. His beady black eyes locking onto mine.

  “If you read someone who you think is a master, then they are not true masters at all. I will ask you to recall that all divines were once regular Espers. Not Savants. Who reached Tier 10 on at least 3 abilities in each Type. You are an anomaly, but you should not be so foolish as to discount the efforts of regular mortals. While you and I and yes, the Seeking Drake, built a sharp peak very quickly by rupturing the earth in mighty tremors, others yet have come just as far over millennia. Building better, more complete mountains by stacking pebbles atop one another. Never underestimate what regular people can do with enough hard work, a bit of talent and a bit of luck. This is their multiverse, after all. Their efforts are the bedrock over which all else is built.”

  He leaned closer.

  “Have you come to know much about your friend Vince? Or your mentor, Thunder Fist?”

  “I wish he was my mentor.” I rebutted. “That would have been an awesome childhood. But, yes. I have seen tiny glimpses here and there. I can’t see into their instances all the time. Not unless there’s a bit of degraded reality that my Intruders can use to sneak in. Also, I can see the futures where they cross paths with me. I know how far they’ve come.”

  I paused to sigh. Forcing myself to carry out the gesture.

  “I wish I could have helped them more.”

  “You have done far too much already.” He countered. “If I were being completely impartial, I would kick both of them off the Tutorial for good and send them to Human City as its first residents. They have both been forcibly improved so much that nothing in the Tutorial could possibly hurt them. The remainder of their time will be served gathering as many perks as it is possible.”

  He leaned back.

  “Regardless, you are obviously not as stupid as you pretend to be sometimes. I know you took my meaning.”

  “I did. Not all circles discuss the philosophies of Psy usage at the same level.” I nodded solemnly. “I had kinda figured as much. I get that old masters would typically be isolated and self-absorbed due to all the (Gnome)kissing they must get on the regular from their own factions, but anyone who made it that far would also be smart enough to know the value of different perceptives. I imagine there are book clubs where only the scariest guys gather around for tea and cigars, where they discuss all kinds of juicy secrets that the regular peasants would kill for.”

  The seahorse man made a noise that might have been a chuckle.

  “Quite right. But you make it sound as if it is something sinister. As if we are purposely trying to keep the masses blind to the truth.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  He leaned his head to the side.

  “Sometimes. So bad actors like the Drake don’t get too much information. Just in case. Yet the truth is that most of the high and mid-level Espers in most factions could not truly make use of the information we share among ourselves. We…”

  He hesitated. As if tasting the words in his mouth before releasing them.

  “We have viewpoints that might seem esoteric to some. Nonsense to others. Yet, it is these tips that may catapult someone who has been on the 9th Tier for tens of thousands of years into the 10th. At a certain level, you know your own Psy so much that it makes sense. However, if someone on the 5th Tier were to try it, they might think we were messing with them, or perhaps giving them bad advice that would cripple their own understanding or even setting them on hundred-year goose chases where they end up more lost that when they started. It just isn’t worth it. For their own good. No matter how long it takes, normal Espers must progress through their own Tiers at the normal pace, discovering things for themselves and making their own combined abilities.”

  His beady eyes narrowed in what might have been an accusatory stare.

  “Even you will learn this soon. Your ability, mighty as it is, can only take people so far.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  I nodded.

  “I’ll keep it in mind for when I have the luxury of being around a bunch of humans strong enough to forge their own combined abilities. From what the Periwig video said, it is at that point that most Espers can defend planets on their own.”

  I purposely let out a dry chuckle.

  “Wouldn’t that be nice.”

  Hazimon nodded.

  “Yes. But enough about that. Back to the actual ideas I wanted to discuss. Have you ever heard of the great fallacies?”

  “Nope.” I forced my body to shrug. “Never heard of them.”

  I leaned back into my own seat.

  “I have heard about the four great virtues and the theory of contrast and conflict. From what I have seen through [Limited Omniscience], most people in the Labyrinth see it this way.”

  I tapped my finger on the chair.

  “Enhancement is the mastery over the self using Psy. The act of making oneself more real than anything else around and thereby forcing one’s body into being more than what it would be otherwise. In all aspects. It is the art of using Psy to defy reality and refuse change, thereby contrasting with the Shifter Type. Meanwhile, the Shifter Type is all about change and adaptation. It is like Enhancement in that it focuses on the body, but it involves seeing the body you were born with as inherently flawed and imperfect. Thus, the two Types are always in conflict, and the more you understand one, the less you understand the other. Because you align your mind to see it one way, at the expense of the other.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I have to say, I personally don’t see it. I’m surrounded by people who have enough common sense to know that there is a tool for every task and a task for every tool. Enhancer powers are great. Until they’re not. Same with Shifter powers. It’s all well and good to grow wings and spit acid and heal yourself, until someone like Dusty comes along and pulverizes your very spirit with her pinky. Same with Dusty and Boris. It’s all good until she loses an arm fighting some eldritch horror. And then the body becomes far less perfect. Everyone I know here is trying to get all four Types and to advance them as fast as possible. Because you can’t really do without a single one in the long term. You leave yourself too exposed and bad things happen when you leave yourself exposed.”

  “Correct on all counts.” Hazimon assured me. “Yet, most people do benefit greatly from focusing their views on a single Type at a time. It helps when forming their first combined abilities, up to the 4th Tier. Hence why so many adopt this philosophy.”

  He activated some item. Similar to my storage ring. He pulled a glass of some orange…ish liquid and lapped it up with a thin tongue.

  “The same rules thus follow. Enhancement is the mastery over the self, at the exclusion of change, the material universe and the beliefs of others. To the point where the real universe ends at the limits of their bodies. Shifting is the mastery over life and matter, at the exclusion of the self, the greater workings of the universe and the minds of those living things. Projection is the mastery over energy and objective reality, at the exclusion of the self, life, and the minds of living beings. Telepathy is the mastery of the minds. Plural. Of all the minds of all living beings, and of the very concept of thought and unreality, at the exclusion of the self, of regular life, and of the objective reality one’s body resides in. A true master must reconcile all four of these viewpoints, if they hope to make it past the 4th Tier and into the 5th and 6th and beyond.”

  He put the drink away after taking a few more licks.

  “This is the dominant philosophy. The one most helpful for the laypeople. I have lived and trained enough to be familiar with the inner workings of more complex viewpoints. The ones that Divines used before ascending. The ones that some would be Divines are using right now, while being just one or two abilities shy of the status.”

  “And like I said, I’ve never heard of these great fallacies.”

  “I’m not surprised. The basic notion is that, as Espers level up and move through the Tiers, their own minds and personalities become warped.”

  I paused to consider the notion.

  “Yeah. That sounds about right.” I conceded. “I’m not going to lie and say that I’m the same person now that I was while I was deluding myself. I’d have gone insane if I didn’t change.”

  Hazimon snapped his clawed fingers.

  “Aha! And therein lies the crux of the issue. You have stopped yourself from becoming insane. That is why you have not gained any new levels in Telepath.”

  I stopped focusing on my expressions and my face went back to that same blank stare I had as a default.

  “That makes absolutely no sense.”

  “No, no. Hear me out.” The seahorse man insisted. “The theory of great fallacies states that, in order to break through barriers, one must go along with the worst and best impulses that their Type pushes onto them. In order to fully submerge their minds in the purest forms of Psy. Furthermore, the theory states that one must only do this with one Type at a time, lest they get an experience that is less than pure.”

  For the first time in the conversation, the seahorse began gesturing wildly.

  “For Enhancers, this is the urge to prove oneself and one’s own body as superior. To prove, without trickery or strategy, that one can brute force their way out of any situation and that one can destroy all obstacles in one’s path. It is the struggle for complete and absolute dominance. True martial strength. For Projectors, this is the urge to prove that the energy and matter of the universe is utterly and completely malleable to one’s desires. To prove that trickery puts one above all others and that others live because one allows them to live. Or vice versa. For Shifters, this is the urge to prove oneself and one’s life, one’s cells, as immortal. To prove that life and death hold no meaning for oneself and the one can infect or subvert or consume all other opposition in order to spread and reproduce. For Telepaths, this is the urge to prove oneself as perfect. In mind, if not in body. To dominate all lesser minds and use them for one’s own pleasure and one’s own whims. Regardless of their feelings. To prove that reality holds no power over the mind.”

  He almost stood.

  “To simplify, Enhancers must indulge in thoughtless combat and bloodshed. Projectors must indulge in changing the world around them. Shifters must indulge in consumption and reproduction. And Telepaths must indulge in pleasure, pride and domination. And all must push these fallacies to the extreme. Until progress is made.”

  I forced myself to blink.

  “That… sounds like the most unhinged rant I have ever heard. And I have heard the Drake going off more than once. In fact, you sound exactly like the Drake. Point for point. You say he doesn’t know about these philosophies, but this is his motto to a T. This is all he does all the time.”

  I paused, but then figured I may as well be honest.

  “You are insane.”

  “Am I?” He asked innocently. “Then answer me this. What do you think a normal human would do, if they were given the power of complete and total dominion over all of their peers?”

  He raised a clawed hand quickly.

  “And before you answer, consider what the rulers of your world have done with that kind of power. Those without Psy. What were their priorities when they were about your age and had no one to tell them no or no one to curtail their baser instincts? What did your world’s petty tyrants and up jumped dictators or vicious warlords do when they had no one to restrain them?”

  I did not answer immediately, but the seahorse took that as an answer regardless.

  “I thought as much. Do not be alarmed or ashamed. I am old enough to remember life before the System arrived to our dimension, and it was much the same. I myself was the 114th child of an imperial family. My mother being my father’s 48th concubine.”

  He snorted in obvious derision.

  “And though the Seeking Drake will never admit this, he was the illegitimate offspring of a martial family. And not the only one either. He has tried to stamp out the rumors, but he abandoned his world and they still have most of their written records. He had to sit by and watch helplessly as his two older siblings were made the playthings of an old, bloated bureaucrat. Who was of an age to be their grandfather. Worse yet, due to their low status, this was supposed to have been a great honor for them.”

  I did not cringe, but only because my body refused to act spontaneously.

  “He’s still alive, you know. The old pervert. He was fond of hurting his partners, so the Drake’s sisters did not survive. But the Drake made sure to seek him out at the earliest opportunity. His body and mind, or what’s left of them, still live and still make up the bricks surrounding the Drake’s favourite garden. One he routinely fills with fertilizer. Sometimes he has him sing to his plants. I am told it is not a pleasant sound.”

  “Okay. Okay.” I raised my hand to stop him.

  “I get it. People can be awful when power gets to their heads.”

  “No. People are generally awful when power gets to their heads.” Hazimon countered. “Again, you are the exception, rather than the rule. Seek out other species that have Telepaths for champions and you’ll almost always see males surrounded by adoring females or females surrounded by adoring males.”

  He cringed a little.

  “Even my own daughter had seven young boytoys following her everywhere she went at one point. She matured out of it, thank goodness. But she still used her own Presence abilities to make herself as brilliant as the sun itself back when she was young and lusty. It is normal for young ones to do this. Even some of your fellow humans have done this in other instances. Your pawn Halkon among them. It is hardly strange.”

  “That still doesn’t mean it’s the correct way.”

  The old master held my gaze for a few seconds. Then he made a sound akin to a chortle.

  “You are correct.”

  “I am?”

  “Of course. That is why these forms of training are called the great fallacies, and not the great truths. Fools and petty despots will indulge in their most vile desires, but the whole point of the exercise is to understand the fallacies without succumbing to them. To walk the tightrope, as it were. One must gaze into the abyss, without being swallowed whole by its temptations. It is an exercise that tests one’s own willpower and the stability of one’s own psyche when tested against one’s Psy and the might of one’s abilities.”

  “Why then?” I asked. “Then… why go over this whole speech at all? Why not just tell me that self-control was the main goal? I can do self control?”

  “Everyone thinks they can do self control, my dear young student. That doesn’t mean everyone can control their baser impulses. It really is much harder than it looks. Especially when you are placed in a scenario tailored to draw out those impulses.”

  “Be that as it may.” I interrupted him again. “I am not about to let myself loose on a bunch of innocent people to advance. I wouldn’t even be able to gather the mental fortitude to think about doing something like that. It is antithetical to my being.”

  “Who said anything about innocent people?” Hazimon countered. “That is what the Labyrinth is for. What copies are for. Not all of it is akin to the Tutorial. There are instances out there specifically made to tell stories and to encourage extreme responses.”

  He pulled out something else from his storage. A crystal of some kind. Made of many little coloured pebbles melted together.

  “This is a raw instance. The building blocks of what actual instances are made from.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “A real one? How did you manage to get your hands on something like that? Enforcers shouldn’t…”

  “I did not get this from my role as an enforcer.” He cut in. “I got this directly from one of the current Administrators of the System. The Divine of Singing Metals.”

  I stared at the thing. Then at him.

  “You…”

  “She used to be my protégé.” Hazimon explained casually. “She is aware of my difficulties. Due to my status as a Savant. She does me little favors like this one every now and then. In hopes that I will obtain a second Type.”

  He blew some bubbles in what might have been a giggle.

  “She is very grateful for the help you have given me and she is willing to extend you an offer in exchange for further assistance.”

  I did not say anything for a few seconds.

  “What kind of offer?”

  “Let us revisit that another time.” Hazimon waved the matter away. “For now, know that I secured a deep-dive scenario. One where you can agree to seal off some of your abilities. Or even a complete Type. This is one the Seeking Drake was fond of, so I know it must be excellent for Shifters. Granted, he always missed the point. The whole aspect of self-regulation, but being a Savant, he always got a few motes of enlightenment regardless.”

  He tapped the crystal with a clawed finger.

  “Thing is, this one is only good for a single use. Afterwards, it will be able to take in another scenario. What I want you to do is to use it for your own progress as a Shifter and to then place a scenario of your own making. One that you believe will help me develop as a Telepath.”

  He blew some more bubbles.

  “I and my old student are in agreement that, since it was your ability that awoke the Telepath Type for me, you would have the most useful insights as to what would make it grow.”

  He let out an annoyed snort.

  “For your information, this is after I tried scenarios designed by the Divine and my own daughter, so this trust should come as high praise.”

  He threw the shiny stone in a gentle manner.

  I caught it without much effort and held it in both hands.

  “And if my own scenario isn’t as good as this one?”

  He shrugged.

  “Then I’ll have wasted a favor. I have enough of those that it won’t matter too much.”