057 ABOUT GOSSIPS AND PROMS
"Do you want to intern at the SIA?" Lander asked suddenly, as if the thought had just occurred to him.
He leaned back in his chair, not waiting for an answer. "Perks include full membership at Heroes' Gym. It's the only public meta gym in town, by the way."
"I can pay for the membership," Damen replied with a cool indifference.
Lander's lips twisted into a knowing smirk. "Money alone wouldn't get you in. If not for Dorin, you'd never set foot in the gym. She's been letting you use it, bending the usual rules."
Damen had long suspected there was more to his access to Heroes' Gym than just luck. Even the staff had sometimes looked at him oddly, as if he were a special case.
Now, it was all starting to make sense.
"Why did you allow me into your gym in the first place, then, if it's so exclusive?" he asked, turning to Dorin.
Dorin didn't hesitate, her gaze unwavering. "Because I saw you in the main hall, with your parents' superhero medals. I made an exception out of respect for their legacy. You earned that much, at least."
Damen was struck by the simplicity and honesty of her answer.
It was Dorin, from the very start, who had made the exception…. long before they suspected him of anything. She had seen something in him, something worth nurturing, and that chance had allowed him to train when no one else would've given him the time of day.
He took a moment to consider Lander's offer.
The gym—with full access, and unlimited hours.
Training was crucial to Damen, especially now. He'd been avoiding it lately to keep a low profile, but with the suspicion out in the open, maybe it was time to face it head-on.
Besides, working with the SIA would open doors, give him insights into law enforcement—knowledge that could come in handy if he ever crossed the line himself.
"All right," Damen said after a long pause, locking eyes with Lander. "Full access. Unlimited hours."
Dorin smiled, a hint of approval in her expression as she extended her hand. "Agreed."
He shook it, feeling the weight of the bargain settle.
Lander's tone turned blunt once Damen accepted the offer.
"You may be part of the SIA now," he said, "but I still haven't figured out the psychic attacks. I'm still convinced they're connected to you somehow."
Damen studied him for a moment. "Should I ignore him… or just tell him something believable?"
He exhaled slowly. "Fine. Lord Nicaesa told me once that my mother—Violet—was a powerful psychic. He said she probably placed a charm on me when I was little. If I'm ever in danger, it triggers automatically to protect me…. It's possible the psychic reading you've been getting around me came from there… but I never meant to hurt anybody."
Lander mulled over the idea. "That… could make sense. So, you're saying the psychic bursts we've traced might be the charm activating? Like when those students tried to bully you—or when your uncle collapsed?"
"That could be it…although it's definitely not my fault," Damen said with a shrug.
Then he added, "But my mother was a Superhero, not some dark villain. She wouldn't give me something evil. And she's gone now. You can't hold her choices against me."
Lander pressed on. "What about the victims in Black Owl Club and the MMA stadium?"
"I wasn't anywhere near either place," Damen replied calmly. "Maybe you've been connecting two unrelated cases."
"Maybe," Lander said, though his eyes stayed sharp before adding, "you do have no motive attacking those people."
Damen smiled faintly and folded his arms, crossing his fingers behind his back.
"Hopefully, that's the last time they bring up the psychic attacks," he thought.
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Dorin reset the briefing for Damen's benefit. "About a month ago we started getting reports — students from Meta High No. 2 have been disappearing. No notes, no calls, nothing. They just vanish."
Damen scanned the dossiers spread across the table and shook his head. "These aren't runaway types. They're well off students. If anything, they'd be running back home for allowance money, not away from it."
"That leaves two options," Lander said.
"Accident or foul play," Damen finished.
Lander's jaw tightened. "Exactly. But the disappearances are scattered across time and place. Accidents don't add up. It's either coordinated abduction or murder."
"So, we need to know who's taking them — and why," Dorin said.
"Where do we start?" Damen asked.
"Ask around — without tipping anyone off," Dorin answered.
Damen snorted. "No. That's how you spook the suspects. If one of the students is involved, everyone'll clam up and bolt. It would become harder to investigate."
Lander looked at him. "Then what do you suggest?"
Damen folded his arms and offered a slow smile. "There's a place where kids trade secrets for bragging rights."
Dorin leaned forward. "Name it."
"The Black Owl."
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"Hey, buddy! Didn't think you'd actually come out for a real R&R. Been ages," Zairgid said, slapping Damen a high five.
"The school's facilities are subpar," Damen replied dryly. "Training there's a waste of time. Might as well get some fresh air."
Their car rolled to a stop in front of Black Owl, the city's most exclusive night club. Neon lights crawled along the walls like living veins. The bouncers at the door didn't even glance twice — they knew Zairgid.
"Mr. Aukuoma," the club manager greeted, bowing slightly. "Your suite is ready."
"Good," Zairgid said. "A few friends from Meta High No. 2 are coming. Make sure your men don't hassle them."
Inside, the suite opened into a sleek private lounge — crystal lights, soft beats, and too many familiar faces around.
Zairgid's welcome-back party was in full swing.
Students from rich families clustered in groups, drinks in hand, voices rising in the din. A few gatecrashers had slipped in, but Zairgid didn't care. He had money to burn. Treating a few freeloaders was nothing to him.
Damen, however, kept to himself.
He wasn't one for small talk. He took a seat in the corner with a drink and a plate of delicate cakes, letting the sugar dull his boredom while his ears worked overtime.
"Useless chatter," he thought as the gossip in the room rolled by.
"Did you hear XYZ is dating ABC?"
"Hey, you copied my dress! We should've coordinated first before coming."
"Whose hovercar is that outside? Must've costed a fortune!"
It was all noise — until one stray sentence cut through.
"You know, some students without any background suddenly got insanely strong."
Damen's attention sharpened. He leaned slightly forward.
"Yeah, I heard that. Their meta rating skyrocketed faster than ours, even without using the amplification theater."
"Maybe they're prodigies — like that monster, Damen Dark."
Damen was amused. The speaker didn't even realize he was there.
"How many 'monsters' can one school have? What are the odds?"
"Then what's their secret?"
"If we knew, it wouldn't be a secret."
The conversation shifted again, dissolving back into vanity.
"Forget it. Who do you think wll win king and queen at prom?"
"Not Damen Dark — he's handsome, but with no background, there's no chance at a real partner."
That last one stung more than he expected. Damen downed his drink, stood up without a word, and walked out.
Behind him, the music thumped on, as the laughter echoed — shallow, distant, and meaningless.
Suddenly, someone shouted from his back.
"Damen…, I didn't think you would come to a place like this."
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