The academy's disciplinary hearing took place in a sterile conference room that smelled of polished wood and old power. Aiden sat at a small table facing a panel of five instructors, with Dean Morrison presiding from the center chair. The Dean was an elderly woman with sharp eyes and graying hair pulled back in a severe bun, known for her strict adherence to academy rules.
Across the room, Marcus sat at an identical table with his father, Duke Aldrich, beside him. The Duke was everything his son aspired to be - tall, commanding, with the kind of presence that made others instinctively defer to his authority. His expensive suit probably cost more than Aiden's family made in a year.
"This hearing will determine the appropriate response to the equipment violation discovered during yesterday's semifinal match," Dean Morrison began. "Marcus Aldrich, you stand accused of using unauthorized technology to interfere with your opponent's talent during sanctioned combat evaluations."
Duke Aldrich leaned forward slightly. "Dean Morrison, with respect, I believe there's been a misunderstanding. The device my son was wearing is a standard mental health monitor, prescribed by his personal physician to track stress levels during competition."
He produced an official-looking document from his briefcase. "As you can see, Marcus has been dealing with anxiety issues that could affect his performance. The monitor was purely medical, not tactical."
Aiden watched the exchange with growing anger. Even caught red-handed, the nobility found ways to twist the truth to their advantage. The device had clearly been designed to disrupt hypnotic abilities, but now it was being reframed as a legitimate medical aid.
Professor Vale, who had witnessed the incident firsthand, spoke up. "The device was emitting a specific frequency known to interfere with psychological talents. That goes well beyond simple stress monitoring."
"Professor Vale," Duke Aldrich replied smoothly, "you're not a medical expert. The technology involved in modern health monitoring is quite sophisticated. Interference with certain brain wave patterns is an unfortunate side effect, not the primary function."
Dean Morrison examined the medical documentation with a frown. The papers looked authentic, complete with official seals and physician signatures. Whether they were real or expertly forged was impossible to determine without extensive investigation.
"Furthermore," the Duke continued, "I'd like to raise concerns about Mr. Cross's own conduct during this tournament. Several students have reported unusual behavior after their matches with him. Memory gaps, personality changes, psychological distress. Perhaps the real question is whether his hypnosis techniques are within acceptable bounds."
The hearing shifted focus with practiced ease. Suddenly, Aiden found himself on the defensive, forced to explain his methods while Marcus's violation became a secondary concern.
"Mr. Cross," Dean Morrison said, "can you explain the specific techniques you've been using during your matches?"
Aiden chose his words carefully. "Standard hypnotic suggestion, enhanced reflexes, basic psychological pressure. Nothing that causes permanent harm."
"Define 'basic psychological pressure,'" Professor Blackwood interjected. He sat at the far end of the instructor panel, his expression unreadable. "Your opponents have shown signs of significant mental disturbance."
"Combat is naturally stressful. Some people react more strongly than others."
Duke Aldrich smiled coldly. "With respect, Mr. Cross, you're hardly qualified to diagnose psychological reactions. What you call 'natural stress' might be something far more concerning."
The hearing continued for another hour, with the focus gradually shifting entirely away from Marcus's cheating to questions about Aiden's methods. By the end, it felt less like a disciplinary hearing and more like an interrogation designed to find excuses to expel him.
"This panel will deliberate and announce our decision tomorrow morning," Dean Morrison finally declared. "Both students are suspended from combat activities pending our ruling."
As the hearing adjourned, Duke Aldrich approached Aiden's table with his son in tow. "A word of advice, young man," the Duke said quietly. "Sometimes it's better to know one's place rather than reach for things beyond one's grasp."
"I'll keep that in mind," Aiden replied.
Marcus leaned closer, his voice barely audible. "You think you won something yesterday? This is just the beginning. My family has been dealing with upstarts for centuries. We know how to handle problems."
After the nobles left, Aiden sat alone in the empty hearing room, exhaustion weighing on him like a physical force. Without the mental disruption device, his hypnotic abilities were slowly returning, but the accumulated fatigue remained. His body felt like it had been running on empty for weeks.
"Rough day?"
Sarah stood in the doorway, her expression sympathetic. "I heard about the hearing. The whole academy's talking about it."
"Let me guess. Most people think I'm the real villain here."
"Some do. Others are starting to ask uncomfortable questions about how far certain families will go to maintain their advantages." Sarah sat down beside him. "What really happened in there?"
Aiden told her about the device, the Duke's documentation, the way the hearing had been twisted to put him on trial instead of Marcus. Sarah listened with growing anger.
"That's completely corrupt," she said when he finished. "They're protecting their own while trying to destroy you."
"Welcome to the real world. The powerful make the rules, and the rules always favor them."
Sarah was quiet for a moment, then spoke carefully. "Aiden, I need to ask you something. About your matches, about what you've been doing to those students."
Here it came. The moral lecture he'd been dreading.
"I've been thinking about what you said before, about everyone using their talents however they want. And you're right, to a degree. But what you're doing..." She paused, searching for the right words. "It's not just defeating people. You're changing them. Lisa Brennan hasn't been the same since her match. Neither has Kevin Marshall."
"Maybe that's not entirely bad. Lisa was cruel before. Kevin was a bully's lackey."
"But you don't get to decide who they should be!" Sarah's voice rose slightly, then she caught herself and lowered it again. "That's what makes your talent so dangerous, Aiden. It doesn't just hurt people - it rewrites them."
Aiden felt a familiar surge of anger. "So what's your solution? Let them keep treating me like garbage? Accept that I'll never be anything more than a slum rat they can kick around?"
"No, of course not. But there has to be a line somewhere. A limit to how far you'll go."
"The nobility doesn't seem to believe in limits. They'll use illegal technology, corrupt hearings, whatever it takes to keep people like me down." Aiden stood up, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the small room. "Maybe it's time I stopped believing in limits too."
Sarah looked stricken. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of. You're becoming like them, Aiden. Can't you see that?"
But Aiden was already walking toward the door. He didn't want to hear more about morality and lines that shouldn't be crossed. Not when he was fighting for his survival in a system designed to destroy him.
That evening, he found himself in the basement training room where everything had started. The mirrors were still cracked, the equipment still old and worn. But the space felt different now, charged with possibility and danger.
His hypnotic abilities were fully restored, stronger than ever after being suppressed for so long. The mental disruption device had been like a dam, and now that it was removed, his power flowed with renewed force.
Aiden stood before the mirror, studying his reflection. The boy looking back at him had changed over the past weeks. There was something harder in his eyes, something calculating that hadn't been there before.
"I am more than they believe," he whispered to himself. "I am more than they can imagine."
The hypnotic enhancement settled over him like a familiar coat, but this time he pushed it further than he ever had before. Not just strength and speed, but mental acuity, emotional control, predatory instincts honed to razor sharpness.
When he emerged from the trance, Aiden felt transformed. The exhaustion was gone, replaced by crystalline focus and cold determination. Tomorrow's hearing would decide his fate at the academy, but that was only one battlefield in a much larger war.
The nobility thought they could crush him with their wealth and influence. They believed their rules and connections made them untouchable.
Time to show them how wrong they were.
But as Aiden left the training room, he didn't notice the small figure watching from the shadows. Professor Blackwood had seen everything, and the expression on his face was one of deep satisfaction.
The seeds he'd planted in that first conversation were finally beginning to bear fruit. Aiden Cross was becoming exactly what Blackwood needed him to be - desperate enough to embrace any source of power, angry enough to use it without restraint.
Perfect material for the instructor's own plans.