I didn’t do anything so embarrassing as flinch or let out a yelp, but I’m sure my wide eyes gave away my shock anyway. My mouth flopped open and flapped uselessly for a moment, and it dawned on me that I was probably giving the worst possible impression, but I couldn’t help it. My mind had been set on one course of action, and Vixen’s interruption had totally derailed my train of thought. It was taking a while to rebuild the tracks.

  Why is she even here?

  The thought echoed in my head for a moment before I fully grasped it. The VIP lounge was, as far as I knew, just a place for rich people, executives, and sponsors to mingle during breaks in the entertainment. There was always a possibility of some of the supersports stars showing up to schmooze with them, and I figured that was how Vixen had ended up here. She was a big name among sponsors, so it made sense that she’d come down here to chat with the business associates the VIP rooms were generally handed out to. I didn’t even countenance the idea that she was in this area specifically for me.

  Well, it was at least evident that she was here, at the entrance to this bathroom, specifically for me. It was clear in the way her eyes had given me a once over the moment she opened the door. Had she seen me making my way here in a sorry state and come to make sure I was okay, thinking I was the family member of a sponsor or something? That was an embarrassing prospect.

  But, at the same time, it raised my estimation of her a bit. Which was, in its own way, another unfair thought. I knew, objectively, that just because people like her didn’t use their powers for selfless superheroics, didn’t mean she was a callous, compassionless person in every aspect of her life. Or at all, really. Being surprised that she’d check on someone who appeared to be having a bad time was deeply uncharitable. Especially when I knew she was involved in a bunch of charity stuff, though the details eluded me. Sure, it was celebrity PR, but even I didn’t believe that every action a person took had to be 100% altruistic.

  The concern in her eyes was deepening with every moment, and I realised I’d taken way too long to reply. “I’m fine,” I said, then winced. The hoarseness of my voice had immediately put the veracity of that statement into severe doubt. Indeed, Vixen frowned at me, and I tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Nothing to worry about. I’m just…”

  And it was then that it hit me: a premonition of sorts. Nothing to do with powers, just a simple prediction based on my lived experience with social interactions. From here, I would endeavour to ensure her I was okay, downplaying my symptoms to free her from any concerns weighing her down, thus allowing her to go on with whatever she was doing for the rest of the day without guilt, and equally permitting me to return to the arena floor and continue putting my signal sense through a strenuous workout.

  But was that the best outcome here?

  Before me stood the person whose power signal I’d actually managed to see any success in isolating, and now here she was, isolated in a different way. Oh, there were still a few other signals around, raking at my senses like nails on a chalkboard. But nothing like how many there’d typically be in any other scenario I could realistically expect to encounter Vixen in.

  There was an opportunity in front of me.

  “My power,” I began, feeling a little giddy at referring to it as such for the first time, “can just get a little overwhelming with so many people around, is all.”

  “Looks that way,” Vixen said. She tilted her head to the side, curious. “What kind of power have you got that makes you all pale and shaky after watching some supersports, kid? I thought you were one of those squeamish types, and we were gonna have a nice long chat about how everyone in that arena knows exactly what they’re signing up for, and does it willingly.”

  I blinked. It took me a moment to understand what she was referring to—there’d been an injury in the last match before they broke for lunch, though there’d been no announcement as to the nature and severity of said injury. All anyone in the Colosseum knew was that one of the members of the Sentinels had taken a hit and stayed down afterwards; the game had been temporarily halted, and medics had rushed onto the field. Battle had resumed after the guy had been stretchered off, so the presumption was that it wasn’t so bad.

  “No, that doesn’t bother me,” I said, waving her off as nonchalantly as I could manage. Then I frowned. “Well, it does. It’s not nice to see someone get hurt for something like this…” I trailed off, figuring it probably wouldn’t be socially acceptable to tell Vixen to her face that I wasn’t especially impressed by her chosen profession, so I left that statement unended, switching tacks. “But I’m aspiring to be a superhero myself, so I’m not going to let an injury affect me. No, it’s like I said. So many powers in one place wore me out.”

  “Uh huh?” Vixen said leadingly.

  I realised I hadn’t actually answered her question. “My power is… tricky. It lets me sense other powers when they’re in use, and analyse them. Sort of. There’s more to it than that, I think, but I’m still figuring it out right now.”

  A look of understanding replaced the concern in Vixen’s eyes, and her frown slowly transformed into a smirk. “So you came down to the supersports to get a good look at some strong powers in action, huh?” She leaned forward, gazing deep into my eyes with a light pout. “I came here to check you were okay when I saw you stumbling about like a zombie that’d eaten too many brains, but should I be looking to silence you instead? Can’t have anyone posting my foxy secrets all over the internet, after all! I’ve been having so much fun with my rivals struggling to counter me.”

  “Oh, sorry.” I rubbed the back of my head, feeling suddenly awkward. “I’m not intending to do anything like that, I promise. Really, I’m here for the sake of my own power, I’m not really giving much thought to anyone else’s.”

  “Good boy,” Vixen said with a wink, straightening up. She tilted her head to one side. “So, what did your power tell you about mine?”

  “Well, you’re level seven,” I said.

  “Publicly available information,” Vixen said with a teasing lilt to her voice. “Anyone could tell you that. What else? Gonna expose the grand secret that I work with illusions?”

  “Actually, your foundation is something to do with attention, drawing it to you.”

  One orange eyebrow slowly rose. “That’s a lot less public, though I’m sure you can find old school records talking about it if you looked deep enough. Technically, it wouldn’t be doxxing, since the people who actually leaked that shit have already done it.” She scoffed. “So you can identify someone’s Aspects, too. That’s definitely more impressive.”

  “I’m still figuring it out,” I said, feeling even more awkward, and more than a little dishonest. After all, I’d only actually delved into this ability of my signal sense of the first time mere hours ago, and she was its first successful target. “I only managed to see a few more of your Aspects, to be honest. And I don’t have any clue about your revelations, if you’re worried about that,” I hastened to add.

  “Good to hear,” Vixen said with a smile. “What Aspects did you pick up?”

  I had to think about it. It wasn’t so long ago, but I hadn’t put much thought to memorising what I’d learned; I’d been completely truthful when I told her my focus was on developing my own power, rather than learning about other people’s. “Uh. One of them was about directing the attention, which worked closely with another one that attached emotion to the attention.” I paused, then shrugged. “The last one was more difficult to get a handle of, since it kind of felt like something much bigger that built on the foundation, rather than the other two, which kind of mingled with it.”

  “Yeah?” Vixen prompted.

  “Well, I didn’t really get it. It was something to do with transformation. Shaping.” I squinted at her. “I’m guessing that’s when you started pushing your path more towards illusions.”

  “It was. That aspect is all about changing the thing I’m making someone focus on,” Vixen said with a vulpine grin. “It’s when I started working with the fox shtick, too. After a big leap in my powers that made them so much more impressive than before, of course I went a little wild with researching everything I could about illusions, and found my way to the myth of the nine-tailed fox. A trickster spirit who used illusions? Sounded like a great theme for me.”

  I eyed her. “I only see one tail.”

  “I have as many tails as I want,” she said. She looked me up and down. “So, your power’s pretty cool. Kinda limited for the whole hero thing, right now, though?”

  “Well,” I said, “I’m literally F-rank and Level 0. I’m hoping I’ll get more utility out of it in the future.”

  That was the understatement of the century.

  Vixen blinked a few times. “Really? Wow. That’s…” She winced. “Would it offend you if I called that impressive? I’ve heard people with low ranks can get kinda touchy about it.”

  I’m far more than touchy about it, lady.

  But being called impressive was actually enough to offset that, as it turned out. Still, I figured I could push my luck a bit, here. “Well, you can make it up to me by helping me out a bit,” I said with a grin.

  “How’s that?” Vixen asked.

  “Nothing difficult,” I said. “All you gotta do is use your power a bit, and let me… Uh. Watch, I guess? With my own power?”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  This time, both of Vixen’s eyebrows climbed towards her hairline. She gave me another once over. “Sure that’s a good idea, uh… what was your name again?”

  “Emmett. Sorry, I hadn’t given it before.”

  “Right. You sure that’s a good idea, Emmett? It seems like your power is taking a lot out of you.”

  “No pain, no gain,” I said. “And it’s not as bad as it looks, really. It’s not a physical thing. I could run a 5k right now, and it wouldn’t change the state of my power.”

  “So it’s your power that’s tired?” Vixen frowned. “I’ve never heard of a power working like that, and I’ve seen plenty of… what is it they call them? Meta powers?”

  I nodded. Meta powers was the common but unofficial parlance for powers that worked with other powers in some capacity. They were rare, and typically not as impressive as they sounded; the most powerful meta ability I knew of was a guy in Indonesia who passively suppressed all powers within a few metres of himself down so they were no greater than an F-rank.

  “Doesn’t that mean it’s still a bad idea, though?” Vixen continued, tilting her head to one side in thought. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d happily help you out if all I have to do is turn my power on and play around with it a bit. But if you’re already feeling like crap, maybe we shouldn’t push it.”

  “If it’s just one signal, it should be fine,” I said.

  “Signal?”

  “Signals is just the common term for the psionic phenomenon emitted by powers when they’re in use.”

  “Oh, right. I thought I’d heard that before somewhere.” Her head tilted even further, then cocked back the other way. Was she deliberately trying to appear like a curious fox, or did it just come naturally to her, now? “Isn’t that a scientific thing, though? Like, they have all these big machines at Superverse’s labs meant to measure that kind of stuff.”

  “Yeah, exactly. I can even sense the signal given off by those machines when they try to measure power signals. It’s a whole thing. Dr Klein was very interested in it.”

  “Oh? You know Dr Klein?” Her eyes seemed to sharpen, gaining a yellowish sheen. “I’m gonna risk offending you again, here: while I admit I can totally see the doc taking an interest in yours, I can’t imagine Superverse funding research into it.”

  I understood the implied question, though I couldn’t for the life of me comprehend the sudden change in her demeanour. “They don’t. I tag along with a friend of mine who Superverse is much more interested in. Ashika Reddy?”

  “Ah, yeah. I’ve heard of her. The teenage A-rank.” Vixen’s eyes lost that sharp edge, and she moved to lean against the wall beside the door, letting me step out onto the balcony overlooking the VIP lounge. I leaned against the railing, looking back at her with what I hoped wasn’t too much weariness. Why’d she been so serious, all of a sudden? And what about my answer made her drop that seriousness like it had never happened?

  “It’s not an uncommon thing for late bloomers to feel power signals,” I told her. “For most people, their own signal kind of teaches their brain to tune it out, and they stop feeling them within days of getting their own power.”

  “Interesting,” Vixen said, though her tone said otherwise.

  “Anyway, just feeling one power signal shouldn’t be a problem,” I said. “My current state is because there were just so many, all mixing together and clashing. Imagine going to a concert and there’s like forty bands on the stage, all playing their own music. You’d have a headache in no time.”

  “But the last thing you want when you’ve got a headache is to listen to even one band,” Vixen pointed out, quite reasonably. Then she shrugged. “Well, far be it from me to try and tell you what your limits are. You have a better understanding of your power than I do.”

  Not by much, to be fair, I thought, a little sardonically. I had to turn away to hide a self-deprecating smile that forced its way onto my lips.

  “If you say you can handle it, that’s up to you,” Vixen continued. “I guess there’s no harm in just messing about with my power for a minute. See if you can get anything out of it, kid.”

  My smile turned into a grin, and this one I made no attempt to hide, immediately turning to give her a heartfelt thanks. Triumph and excitement surged within me, and it was all I could do not to bounce in place like a hyperactive kid waiting to be let out into recess. I hadn’t expected convincing her to use her power for me to be such a trial, but I suppose it ended up making success taste all the sweeter. With this, I’d be able to focus on her power with nothing—or, well, very little—else around to distract me. I couldn’t wait to see how I progressed, and I was going to give it my all to see that I’d do so.

  “Watch closely,” Vixen said as she lifted her hand. A moment later, her signal came to life.

  This time, it was different. I wouldn’t quite say it was effortless to tap into that state I’d found before, next to the arena, but it certainly came much easier. Part of it was proximity, I thought, with no other disturbances around; her signal was so clear it was like the only thing in the world. Another factor was familiarity. I’d already felt her signal more deeply than any other I’d experienced, and that was while there were hundreds of other signals interfering.

  But the biggest, most important element, I felt, was me. Not anything I was actively doing. I wasn’t arrogant enough to believe I’d improved enough in one day to make it come so much easier to me.

  No, it was my current state that was so different. My worn out signal sense, my aching soul. With the workout I’d put my strange ability through, my entire metaphysical being was sensitive as an exposed wound, and being this close to a powerful, active signal was like pouring salt into it. My soul stung, somehow, as tiny purple sparkles trailed lazily from Vixen’s fingers.

  I could feel the foundational Aspects of her power, drawing my attention to those sparks and demanding awe. It was a subtle effect, and knowing about it took a lot of the edge off its power, but I couldn’t help feeling impressed by it, all the same.

  Frankly, it didn’t compare to the awe I felt for her power signal, even if it was currently pressing against my signal sense like a heavy weight that somehow attacked from all sides. I closed my eyes, focusing on the signal, doing my best to pick it apart.

  Again, I could identify seven signals, all working together like different pieces in a band to form a harmonious tune. This time, I sought out the last three I hadn’t been able to identify last time.

  It was hard to say what told me the order the signals came in. The foundation was obvious, it was, in effect, the central piece of the arrangement that all the others built on. They didn’t all fit in the same way; the first two kinda mingled with the foundation, enhancing it, while the third was like another lesser foundational piece that harmonised with the first and opened up new possibilities, making the whole structure simultaneously stronger and more flexible. There was nothing obvious to indicate what order they came in. I just knew.

  Still, I easily identified the foundation and first three aspects: directing attention, stoking emotion, and transformation.

  The next two aspects built on transformation, just like the first two had built on attention. It was hard to tell them apart, so similar they were, and they were much harder to understand in general than the lesser aspects—and signals were already esoteric and indefinite enough to begin with.

  After a moment, I decided to label one as mind and one as matter. They both, ultimately, seemed to modify transformation to bring it something more tangible. My best theory was that mind drew from an observer’s imagination to fill in blanks and make the illusion more believable, while matter sought to give her illusions more physical weight to, again, make them more believable. It was nebulous, though. I could be wrong.

  The last aspect, the seventh of her signals, was hardest to wrap my head around. It was closer to another foundational signal than one of the modifiers, but it didn’t quite open up a whole new path of possibilities as transform had. If anything, it drew from all of them, brought them together, made them really pop.

  If I had to give a name to it… I’d want to call it transform again, but in a different way. Mutate, maybe? It was about taking the perceptions of those whose attention she was under, drawing them out like thread from a spool, and wrapping those threads around her until she was cocooned in them, and within she could create something new. Something both tangible and intangible.

  And I couldn’t help noticing there was… more to her signal. Noise, untapped. Unfulfilled energy that had yet to be defined, waiting to be moulded into a new aspect of her signal.

  There was a depth and weight to this signal that I’d never been able to experience before, and I marvelled at it. It was all incredible, and it made me giddy to be feeling all this, to be analysing and understanding someone else’s power in a real, material way. It made me feel like I had power of my own.

  That thought stuck with me as I turned my attention, ever so briefly, to my own soul. It was a tiny thing, compared to hers. In fact, there functionally didn’t seem to be a signal in my body at all. No untapped resonance waiting to be formed into a foundation. I was… empty. Especially compared to her.

  But that didn’t mean there was nothing there at all. There was no signal in my body, but there was evidently something there to receive signals, in some fashion. Otherwise, obviously, I wouldn’t have been able to feel signals at all.

  I looked deep within myself, using the emanating resonance of Vixen’s signal as a guide, trying to find the place inside me that was receiving and translating the sensation of power signals to something my brain could comprehend. I prodded at that full-body ache that I’d been feeling for the last hour, my signal sense having been overwhelmed by a full morning of trying to focus so stringently on power signals.

  And with that focus, I… sensed it. That was the only way I could put it. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothing to taste, nothing to smell, nothing to feel. It was a completely different sense, like the one I’d experienced at the hands of the power testing machines in Superverse’s labs, or when Marquise had filled her office with emptiness, drowning out Maisie’s signal.

  It was my entire soul, my entire power sense.

  Ever so faintly, it was vibrating. Resonating. Not strong enough to give off a signal of its own, because it wasn’t even attempting to.

  I finally understood what it was doing, when I was feeling other people’s power signals. Why it made me so uncomfortable at an indescribable, soul-deep level when I felt more than one signal. Why I felt so worn out right now.

  Why I was dizzy, swaying on my feet, my legs turning to jelly.

  I’d often compared my signal sense to hearing, just for the sake of a convenient way to explain an entirely novel sense to people who didn’t possess it. For the most part, I’d thought it didn’t actually fit very well.

  Now, I figured it was actually kind of apt.

  Because hearing was, essentially, outside frequencies vibrating your ear drum, which your brain then interpreted as sound.

  Just like how my soul was vibrating with the same frequency as the power signal I was sensing.

  And even after Vixen had shut off her own signal as she presumably rushed towards me before my shaky legs could give out, I could still feel my own soul, withered and weakened as it was, still vibrating with that same frequency.

  I couldn’t stop grinning, even as my back hit the ground and my consciousness faded away, dragging me into oblivion.

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