Arman had never been popular. He wasn't the guy people looked for in a crowd. He was the guy you accidentally bumped into and forgot five seconds later. But now? Now, people moved when he entered a room — not out of respect, but out of fear, fascination, or plain confusion.
"Yo, Thought Broker, read this!"
A senior boy shoved a crumpled love letter toward Arman.
"I think my girlfriend is cheating on me with her cousin. Is that weird? No—don't answer. Just... check, bro."
Arman sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why are you giving me your trauma like it's an essay draft?"
Still, his mind did the work before his lips could argue.
The senior's surface-level thoughts read like an anime filler arc. Cousin? Not really a cousin. Childhood friend. Girl's confused. Boy's more confused. Relationship doomed.
"She's not cheating yet," Arman muttered. "But she will be. Leave her before she breaks your PlayStation."
The boy looked stunned, then heartbroken, then kind of... grateful? "You're a lifesaver, bro."
Arman didn't feel like one.
---
Meanwhile, Rina watched from a distance.
She was surrounded by a group of students now — popular kids, debate club leaders, even a local YouTuber who made "deep" content in black-and-white filters. They all laughed at her jokes, asked her for thoughts on thought-reading, and unknowingly boosted her social value like she was the brain behind everything.
And in a way... she was.
Rina had used Arman's powers to expose a few love scandals, push people to the edge, and lift herself to the top. She was practically a school celebrity now.
A girl leaned over and whispered, "Is he your boyfriend or your puppet?"
Rina just smirked. "Why not both?"
But deep down, she felt the weight of the strings. If Arman ever snapped — if he ever realized she was the one feeding intel to The Collective, that secret group obsessed with turning mind-reading into organized manipulation — she'd be in real danger.
---
Lunch Break. Rooftop.
Arman leaned against the railing, chewing on a banana like it had wronged him in a past life. He hated being used. But he hated being ignored more. And Rina... she gave him a purpose. Even if that purpose was a lie wrapped in sugar.
"Yo, Banana Boy."
Rina appeared, stealing his last bite like she had ownership over his calories.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," she said, unusually serious. "Take a break. Maybe hang out with people who don't need their brains scanned."
Arman scoffed. "Oh? Like who? My imaginary friends? You?"
She bit her lip, half-playful, half-something else. "Maybe. I've got more layers than you think."
He turned to her, finally locking eyes. His mind brushed against hers — like paper grazing paper.
Surface thoughts: Don't let him peek deeper. Not yet. He's not ready. If he finds out... everything falls apart.
Arman frowned. "You're hiding something."
Rina quickly leaned in and kissed his cheek. "So are you."
---
After school.
A man in a grey hoodie approached Arman near the school gate. Tall, lean, face shadowed.
"You've been reading too many thoughts, kid," he said without greeting. "You're making noise."
Arman tensed. "Who are you?"
The man chuckled. "One of many. But you can call me Ghost. I work with people who want to offer you a deal. Real money. Real power. You read minds, we give direction. You're not the first."
"Not the first?" Arman narrowed his eyes. "There are others like me?"
"Used to be," Ghost said. "Most burn out. Or get burned."
He handed Arman a business card: black, slick, and completely blank. Yet when Arman stared at it, a single word appeared:
"Ascend."
"Think about it," Ghost said, vanishing into the crowd like a rumor.
---
Later that night, Arman lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
He'd always been the nobody. The outsider. The ghost.
Now he had attention. Power. Even romance... or something pretending to be.
But if he kept climbing this ladder, he had no idea what — or who — he'd find at the top.
His phone buzzed.
Rina: "You okay?"
He didn't reply.
Rina: "I'm sorry about using you. But you needed it too. Admit it."
Still no reply.
Rina: "Don't leave me behind. Not now."
Arman finally typed:
"I won't. But don't betray me again. Next time, I'll know."
He turned off the screen. Tomorrow, he'd meet the people behind "Ascend."
But tonight?
Tonight, he let himself fall asleep, dreaming of a world where nobody could lie — and everyone had to face the truth.
Even Rina.
Even himself.
---