The night before the seminar, we assembled outside the school, the building a dark, sleeping beast. We were all clad in our Shadow-Weave Raiment, four figures of living darkness melting into the deeper shadows of the alley.
Comms check, I typed into our shared private channel.
Ghost, check, Leo's text appeared.
Havoc, check, came from Jake.
Oracle, online and ready, from Mark, who was stationed a block away in a van, acting as our digital overwatch.
Begin, I commanded.
Havoc peeled off, a bulky shadow moving with surprising speed toward the theatre wing.
Oracle fed a loop to the exterior security cameras, making our entry point appear empty. Ghost and I slipped through a window into the silent, cavernous school.
We moved through the halls like wraiths. My 'Silent Threat' skill kept our presence muted, but the real advantage was the Raiment.
We were patches of mobile darkness, almost impossible to see in the dimly lit corridors.
We reached the second floor.
Havoc, status, I typed.
In position. Fog machine is primed. Say the word.
Ghost, the vent, I ordered.
Leo looked up at the small metal grate high on the wall. He took a deep breath, and with a surprising agility, found a series of footholds on the wall lockers and pulled himself up.
He pried the grate open and, with a final look back at me, wriggled into the tight, dark space. His loyalty was now at 98/100.
He was trusting me completely.
Oracle, guide him, I commanded.
On my own datapad, I saw a 2D map of the ventilation system appear, a small, blinking dot representing Leo's progress.
Left turn in ten feet, Ghost,Mark's text directed. Then a vertical drop.
Leo's dot moved. He was almost there. Then, a new icon appeared on Mark's map. A security patrol, ahead of schedule. They were heading right for our position.
Havoc, now! I typed, my heart rate quickening.
Showtime! was Jake's only reply.
Seconds later, the faint smell of glycerin filled the air, followed by the distant, muffled sound of a fire alarm. The guards down the hall stopped, their radios crackling.
They exchanged a look and broke into a run, heading away from us, toward the new, false emergency.
The path was clear.
Ghost, you're clear. Drop down now, Mark instructed.
Leo's dot appeared inside the control booth.
I'm in,he texted, his message shaky but triumphant. Terminal is here. Ready for the file.
Uploading to your datapad now, Mark replied. Patch it in.
I watched the progress bar, the transfer of Maya's poisoned data. It was a simple file swap, replacing the hero's hagiography with a version full of embarrassing photos, awkward animations, and text riddled with Freudian slips.
Upload complete, Leo texted. Wiping my tracks.
Get out. Now, I commanded.
Leo crawled back into the vent just as the security patrol, having found no fire, began their return sweep. We exfiltrated as silently as we had entered, melting back into the night.
Back in the alley, we let our Raiment dissolve. We were just four teenagers again, breathless and buzzing with adrenaline.
Jake clapped Leo on the back. "You were awesome, man! A real ghost!"
Leo actually smiled, a rare, genuine expression. His loyalty score, I noted, had finally ticked over.
[Pawn 3: Leo]
Loyalty: 100/100
[Pact of Servitude is now available for this pawn.]
I looked at him, at the kid who had gone from a terrified, snivelling wreck to a competent, loyal agent.
He had earned it. The mission was a success. The seminar tomorrow would be a disaster. And I now had the key to forge my first true super-powered subordinate.
*
* *
The auditorium buzzed with the energy of a thousand unwilling attendees. Every student from Northgate High was packed into the worn velvet seats, the air thick with resentment and teenage cynicism.
On the stage, Principal Thompson was wringing his hands, his face a pale, sweaty mask of anxiety.
This seminar was his last, desperate attempt to regain control, and the tension was suffocating.
I sat with my cadre in the middle of the auditorium, an island of calm in a sea of restless energy. Jake was practically vibrating with anticipation, whispering jokes to Mark, who managed a rare, tight smile.
Leo was quiet, but it was a different kind of quiet than before. He sat straighter, his eyes clear and focused. He had proven himself. He had earned his place.
Maya was next to me, her datapad active on her lap, a live feed from our chat room visible only to her. She wasn't sketching; she was ready to document.
Then, she arrived. Lumina made her entrance not from the wings, but from the main aisle, walking among the students. Her power was a tangible thing, a wave of warmth and serenity that washed over the crowd.
It was like a drug. The buzzing quieted. The resentment softened.
A feeling of placid, trusting calm settled over the room. Students who had been slouching sat up straighter, their faces turning towards her with expressions of dopey admiration.
She was good. Her power was subtle and deeply invasive.
She took the stage, her simple white and gold hero costume seeming to glow with an inner light.
"Thank you all for being here," she said, her voice like warm honey.
"I know there's been a lot of confusion and cynicism lately. It's easy to lose faith. But true heroism, true integrity, is a light that can never be extinguished."
Her words, combined with her empathic aura, were potent. I could feel the edges of my own cold resolve softening, a dangerous, artificial warmth seeping in.
I had to focus, to remind myself that this feeling wasn't real. It was a weapon, just like my fear.
Lumina smiled, a beacon of sincerity.
"I'd like to share a few thoughts with you all, to remind us of the values we hold dear."
She nodded to the control booth, and the large screen behind her flickered to life. The first slide appeared. It was supposed to be a majestic photo of the Hero Guild's founding members.
Instead, it was a candid shot of the same heroes at a gala, looking bored and slightly drunk.
The caption, which should have read "Foundations of Duty," now read "Foundations of Merlot."
A few confused snickers rippled through the front rows. Lumina's smile tightened almost imperceptibly. She tried to ignore it.
"The path of a hero is one of constant vigilance…"
The next slide appeared. It was a picture of the hero Stronghold, caught by a tabloid camera struggling to open a pickle jar.
The caption: "Vigilance Against Condiments."
This time, the laughter was louder, less confused.
It was genuine. Lumina's calming aura flickered like a faulty lightbulb. Her power relied on a baseline of respect and trust.
It had no defence against pure, unadulterated mockery.
The presentation descended into a masterclass of humiliation.
A slide about 'Heroic Sacrifice' was accompanied by a picture of Captain Comet crying dramatically after his favourite Grav-Ball team lost a match.
A slide on 'Resisting Temptation' showed Lady Lux with a mountain of shopping bags from a high-end fashion boutique.
Maya's work was brilliant. She hadn't just swapped images; she had twisted the very message of the seminar into a joke.
The Freudian slips in the text were devastating.
"Our duty is to protect the public's interest rates" and "A hero must always be ready to service the powerful."
The students were howling with laughter now. The empathic calm had been shattered, replaced by a wave of joyous, rebellious ridicule.
Lumina stood frozen on the stage, her face a mask of horror. Her light was being swallowed by the shadows of our mockery.
She was utterly powerless.
As I watched her crumble, I made my decision. The mission was a success. Leo had performed flawlessly. It was time to reward that loyalty, to cement it, to forge my first true weapon.
Hiding my actions behind the chaos, I focused my will inward, on the System interface only I could see.
I navigated to the Subjugation tab, to Leo's profile, where the 'Pact of Servitude' option glowed with a faint, ominous light.
Initiate Pact of Servitude for Pawn 3: Leo? the system asked. This action is permanent and irreversible.
I didn't hesitate.
Confirm.
A strange, cold energy flowed from me.
It wasn't a physical sensation, but a deeper one, a connection snapping into place in the architecture of my soul. It felt like a hook setting deep, binding his will to mine.
I could feel him, not his thoughts, but his presence, his loyalty, his awe—a steady, unwavering point of light in my mind.
Then, I opened my inventory and selected the Skill Ticket. A menu appeared, listing dozens of Grade E skills from every conceivable tree.
My eyes scanned the options: 'Minor Pyrokinesis,' 'Enhanced Agility,' 'Basic Technopathy.'
I scrolled to the 'Stealth & Infiltration' tree. There it was.
[Skill: 'Phase Step' (Active, Grade E)]Description: For a duration of 3 seconds, the user can become intangible, allowing them to pass through solid objects up to one foot thick. Cooldown: 10 minutes. Requires significant stamina.
It was the perfect skill for a 'Ghost.'
Grant Skill: 'Phase Step' to Pawn 3: Leo?
Confirm.
The Skill Ticket vanished from my inventory. In the row next to me, Leo gasped, a sharp, quiet intake of breath that no one else heard over the roar of laughter.
He looked down at his hands, then at me, his eyes wide with utter disbelief.
Through our new bond, I could feel his shock, his confusion, and then a surge of overwhelming power as the knowledge of the skill, the understanding of how to use it, flooded his mind.
He looked at me, and I gave him the slightest, almost imperceptible nod.
The seminar was over. A frantic Principal Thompson had rushed the stage, shutting down the presentation and trying to apologise to a mortified Lumina, who fled the auditorium without another word.
The mission was a resounding success.
[Mission Complete!]
[Reward: 200 VP, 75 EXP awarded.]