The Chapter begins with Asher waking up in his small, cluttered room, the dim light from the
morning sun filtering through his window. He feels physically drained from the previous
day’s intense training session, his mind still aching from the strain of controlling his new
powers. But there’s something deeper bothering him—something that feels off about the
entire training program. The more he thinks about it, the more unsettled he becomes. He
stares at his reflection in the mirror, trying to shake off the weight of his thoughts. Lila, his
younger sister, knocks on the door, asking if he’s okay. Asher smiles, brushing it off. “Just
tired, Lila. I’ll be fine.”
Asher arrives at the Cognitive Control Initiative, alongside his friends, each of them
looking equally drained. Mina holds her head low, her confidence from yesterday gone.
Rhea still appears shaken from the mental exhaustion of the last session. The group is greeted
by Instructor Maria, who is always polite and calm, but there’s a coldness in her eyes today,
a stiffness that wasn’t there before.
“Today’s task is simple,” Maria announces. “You will create something small, something
delicate. We need to test your ability to control your imagination to the finest detail.” The
task seems manageable at first, but Asher can feel the weight of the instructors’ expectations
pressing down on him. The room feels heavier, suffocating.
The group is separated into individual stations. Each person is asked to create a small,
delicate object—something that requires absolute control. Asher tries to focus, but the
pressure starts to build, and the headaches from yesterday return, pulsing at the back of his
skull. His hand trembles as he imagines a tiny cube, but the object flickers and shatters in the
air before his eyes.
Zane struggles as well, his attempts to create a simple pencil turning into a jumbled mess of
floating pieces. Mina manages to conjure a perfect orb, but as it expands, she loses control,
and it bursts into a spray of sparks. Rhea tries to form a small tree but watches in horror as it
grows uncontrollably, its roots digging into the floor.
Asher watches his friends fail, the strain on their faces visible. He feels the weight of his own
failure too. But something feels wrong. The instructors are calm, as though the failures don’t
surprise them. It’s as if they expected it. Asher’s unease grows, but he pushes the thought
away and focuses on his own task.
Asher’s Turn
When it’s his turn, Asher takes a deep breath and concentrates. He imagines a small, glowing
sphere in his hand, a symbol of control. But his mind starts to race, and the sphere flickers,
unstable. The pressure grows, as if something in the room is pushing against him. Sweat
beads on his forehead as the sphere warps and distorts, its glow flickering erratically.
Maria steps forward. “Focus, Asher,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “You have the power
to control it. You must focus.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Her words feel rehearsed. There’s a subtle, almost mechanical tone to them. Asher grits his
teeth, struggling to maintain control. He pushes himself harder, finally managing to stabilize
the sphere, but it’s only temporary. His mind is too scattered. The object trembles in his hand,
then disappears with a sudden pop, leaving Asher breathing heavily, his heart racing.
After the session ends, the group gathers in the break room, each person clearly exhausted.
Rhea slams her fist on the table, frustrated. “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t know what’s
happening, but it feels like we’re being forced to break.”
Asher nods, his own mind filled with doubts. Something isn’t right. The instructors seem too
calm, too detached. Their reactions are too perfect, almost as though they’ve been trained to
handle failure without batting an eye. He can’t shake the feeling that something’s being
controlled—something more than just their powers.
Mina is quiet, her eyes downcast. “There’s something off about this place. I keep thinking
that we’re being watched, but not just by the instructors. It feels like… like someone is
pulling the strings.”
Asher stares at her, his thoughts aligning with hers. Could they be under surveillance? But by
whom? And why?
Determined to get answers, Asher follows Maria after the session ends. He wants to confront
her, to demand the truth. He finds her in a hallway, standing by a maintenance door. His heart
pounds as he approaches her.
“Instructor Maria,” Asher begins, his voice low, “Why are we being pushed so hard? What’s
really going on here?”
Maria looks at him, her expression unreadable. “You need to trust the process, Asher,” she
says. “We’re here to help you learn how to control your powers. That’s all you need to focus
on.”
But Asher isn’t convinced. “You’re not telling me the whole truth. There’s something more.
Something… something wrong.”
For a brief moment, Maria’s expression flickers. A coldness enters her eyes, and she steps
closer, lowering her voice. “You don’t understand. Just trust the process. It will make sense
soon.”
Before Asher can ask anything further, Maria quickly walks away, leaving Asher with more
questions than answers.
Later that night, as Asher lies in bed, his mind races. He keeps replaying the conversations he
had, the strange feeling that the instructors were not entirely in control of themselves. He
recalls how Maria and the others never seemed surprised by their failures—how they
handled everything with a robotic calmness. It’s almost like they were waiting for them to
fail.
Suddenly, his phone buzzes. A cryptic message appears on the screen: “Don’t trust them.
You’re being watched. They’ll make you break, but you mustn’t give in.”
Asher’s heart skips a beat. Who sent this message? Is it a warning? His thoughts spiral. Is
there more to the training program than anyone is telling him? And what is the real purpose
behind it all?
The screen fades to black, leaving the audience wondering: Who is behind the message, and
what is their agenda?
