if people found out, it would turn into a serious nightmare.
Every kid who hadn’t manifested would swarm him, wanting to find out what they were going to be.
The parents would be even pushier.
And what if it turned out that he actually could trigger their abilities?
He hadn’t ruled out that possibility yet.
In fact, it seemed pretty likely.
Was that what his mom wanted?
But… why?
Why give him that ability? Since there was no way it manifested by accident.
She definitely planned this.
So… what was in it for her?
Power, he realized.
That’s always what it went back to with his mom.
And in a world where abilities were the single most defining thing in someone’s life, having any kind of knowledge about what was going to happen to them—or making it happen for them—was the ultimate advantage.
She could demand anything she wanted for a meeting with her talented little son, and people would pay it—swear it. And she’d get to pick and choose who got the chance.
Or…
Was it bigger than that?
He hadn’t forgotten what his mom called her plan.
The Archetype.
An original model, that all other things were copied from or compared against.
He’d thought that was just her obnoxious way of saying, I’m smarter than everyone else, and this is why they all need to listen to me!
But what if the title was about him?
What if he was her Archetype—and she was going to use him to measure everybody?
Judge them.
Sort them.
Gather up the best of the best.
Form her own superior elite class and use them to dominate everyone else.
Was that his legacy?
But if it was… wasn’t his power limited?
It wasn’t like he could stop people from manifesting.
Or… could he?
Was there some word—some command—he could give that would strip someone’s ability away?
He didn’t know—and he didn’t want to know.
Keefe pulled himself into a tight little ball and buried his head.
“I can’t do this,” he whispered.
“Do what?” Dex asked.
“All these freaky, unnatural things my mom did to me. I can’t control these abilities—”
“Yes, you can,” Dex argued. “I’ve seen you do it. I mean, sure, you’re still getting the hang of it, but I’ve watched you choke back commands. And this is the first time you’ve let yourself talk in days—and only because you know it’s safe.”
“Yeah, but what happens when my mom shows up again? She knows everyone I care about, and how to use them to manipulate me and—”
“And you’re stronger than her,” Dex assured him. “Trust me, I know you—you’ll never give in. She could have ogres pry your jaw open, and you still wouldn’t give a command.”
Well, there was a lovely mommy-son image.
But Keefe wouldn’t put it past her.
And Dex was right—he’d fight that for sure.
But what if she did that to one of his friends?
Or to Sophie?
And… did it even matter?
This new ability wouldn’t need anything drastic like that.
All his mom would have to do is strap him to a chair and keep a Telepath around while people touched his hands. Then she’d know everything Keefe felt and what it meant—even trigger their abilities or maybe take them away—and there was nothing he’d be able to do to stop that.
Even wearing an ability restrictor wouldn’t be enough, because his mom would just have her Technopath remove it—and probably put it on Sophie instead.
“I can’t do this,” Keefe repeated, glancing around his room like he was hoping some magic solution would appear in the glittering walls.
Or maybe a hole to disappear into.
“You can,” Dex promised. “Because you won’t have to do it alone.”
Keefe shook his head, hating that he was making this all about him after what he’d just put Dex through.
But he had to be very clear. “You can’t tell anyone about this, Dex. No one. Not Elwin. Not the Black Swan. Not even Sophie! Especially not her.”
“Okay,” Dex told him. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“I need you to promise,” Keefe pressed.
Dex held his stare. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone about this new ability.”
“About any of my new abilities,” Keefe clarified. “I know a few people already know a little bit—and I can’t change that. But just… downplay that part as much as you can—and don’t tell them anything else.”
“I won’t. I promise.” He must’ve known that Keefe was still worried because he added, “It’s better for my brother that way.”
“It’s better for everyone,” Keefe told him.
Every. Single. Person would be happier and safer if no one ever found out what he could do.
“Where are you going?” Dex asked as Keefe reached to click off the Imparter.
“I don’t know. I just… need to think.