She never felt fear so deeply and so inescapably before. Every corner of her mind felt overfull with dread, leaving no room to retreat. Lisa was a tiny little animal surrounded by wolves on all sides, overwhelmed with so much fright that there was only one place to escape:
Her power.
In danger.
Not in danger.
Afraid of ()*^$^%(*
Fear caused by ()*!%$*&#
Escape is impossible.
Escape is possible.
No need to escape.
Must escape.
Unfortunately, it was giving out contradictory and nonsensical information. Directing it at other people, she focused on the heroes, PRT agents, and even her own team. She shouldn’t have bothered because it gave different variations of the same inference:
Is having a panic attack.
She would’ve been impressed at how a single Parahuman could cause practically identical reactions in all the people in range, if she weren’t tied to the one causing it. More importantly, the longer the effect lingered, the likelier the worst-case scenario would occur for everyone:
Will suffer cardiac arrest.
Forcing her limp and uncooperative body to respond was like trying to run underwater. Yet, she had to do it. Air was refusing to enter her lungs, and she was burning oxygen with every inch she crossed. Finally, her hand made contact with Taylor’s, and by some miracle, she hadn’t passed out yet.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Some part of her was infuriated at having to rely on the girl for anything. The other part was yelling that they were going to die if she didn’t. Pride couldn’t play a part in trying to survive.
Fortunately, she was able to successfully snap her out of the same effect that’s handily incapacitating Lisa. Annoyingly, the bug mistress was able to do so and move with way less trouble. When the air of primal dread finally disappeared, the Thinker was still immersed in her power.
It was like getting violently expelled by a giant slingshot, where she started from a dead stop and accelerated without actually moving. The experience stretched for several seconds, which was enough for her to notice several things.
With Legend:
()*^& Data. Severed (*^*%. @%^& Cycle.
With Piggot:
Suffering cardiac arrest. Adrenaline and noradrenaline overdose.
With Alfred, who was in the middle of using his powers on the unconscious PRT Director, however, things were different:
Is a man. Is a woman. Is a giant. Is old. Is young. Is human. Is non-human.
What the fuck?
Can %(*&^. Has access to !$#@#. Mind is ^$&^ by *^&%&^.
Time lost all meaning to Lisa. Somehow, someway, her power was working on the Trump. It was temporary, though. She could already feel herself being pulled back, but this was a chance she couldn’t allow to pass.
So she strained to stay. When she did, however, something else happened. An outline began to form over Alfred, which gradually solidified.
It was a woman with a pale, porcelain-like complexion with sharp, delicate features. A heavy, cream-colored outer garment covered her slender form. It was adorned with intricate gold trim that winds across the chest and shoulders. Large, polished red cabochon gems are inlaid into the gold filigree at the collar, shoulders, and torso.
She turned her head and locked eyes with Lisa before opening her mouth to speak soundless words.
****** *** ******.
Refusing to give up, the Thinker fought to understand what the woman was trying to say.
B***** **s ***tr**.
Her power was beginning to buckle. The strain was becoming too much, but she refused to give in.
Be*are **s P*tr**.
Lisa couldn’t hold on any longer, and she could feel her grip on this opportunity slip away faster and faster. But, with one last push, she finally managed to get enough pieces of the puzzle to form a concrete idea of what she was trying to convey.
Beware his Patron.
What Patron?
Allowing herself to be pulled away while mulling over the discovery, Lisa’s eyes caught Taylor’s form, and what her power managed to get froze her blood.
…Is Abyss.
…Is Annihilation.
That didn’t sound good at all.