#dn3

A fast drive through a highway junction heading toward DN3 Constanta. Real roads, real traffic flow 🚗🌊

🖊#Seguridad | Ejército Mexicano y Guardia Nacional aplican Plan DN-III-E y Plan GN-A en el municipio de Tetecala +INFO:

Finally got round to properly setting myself up as a cycling coach. After my time at Writtle so far, I’ve decided it is what I want to pursue and after my time as a competitive cyclist, focus all my energy on and turn into my full time job!

I love the science of training, how the body reacts to training at different intensities, the unknowns of what causes fatigue and how to balance it. I’ve always been overly obsessive about my own training (which is why I don’t coach myself!).

Being able to nurture other riders talent and help people climb that hard ladder of reaching their ultimate goal really does fill me with purpose. It makes me proud when I see a rider working hard and completing workouts, and finding the motivation to work hard for the goal even when life gets in the way.

If you’re interested in knowing how coaching could benefit you or would like a general chat, get in touch with me at [email protected] or head over to my facebook at www.facebook.com/osmeecyclingperformance and check out my website http://www.cyclingperformancecoaching.co.uk/.

Raz awoke to a painful throbbing right behind his eyes, and he hissed, clutching his face. His eyes stung from dust when he went to open them. The groan slipped past Raz’ lips as he wiped his eyes, sitting upright and shaking his head. He heaved out a few heavy breaths, recalling the sudden explosion rocketing the meeting room of the underwater bunker for the branch heads.

Like he expected, most of the lights were out, leaving the room dimmed. Metallic debris surrounded him followed by the mingling moans of his cohorts as they stirred. Raz tugged his wrists and realized his could part them, forcing him to realize his handcuffs had been removed. Gazing down at his sore wrists, to his baffled wonder, an odd bangle had been set around his left wrist. Turning it over, he found a timer counting down from two hours from now.

Standing up, Raz gazed out to his friends and branch heads. Danilo wrapped Jiao’s arm over his shoulder, helping him stand. Mikhail offered a hand to Maloof while Franke stumbled to her feet, using a fallen chair to push herself up. Montrell gripped his cane and leaned against the table, shaking his head when Felipinho asked if he needed help. Amos shot a glare in Raz’ direction before hobbling over to Vasile, gripping his shoulders to steady to Vice Chairman of the P-sychonauts. Lili got her knees, shaking Chloe’s shoulders as she rubbed her helmeted head. Grigory leaned against the wall, gripping his head as pieces of rubble rolled off his shoulders. Azalea emerged from underneath the table, ambling into Adarah, and the Super Psychonaut Level Arcade Champion steadied them. Tiger shoved some debris off himself and Dimah, helping her stand afterwards.

Raz quickly looked around to his surroundings. The monitors, to Raz’ surprise, were perfectly fine. Though, cracks were everywhere in the room as if it had been struck by an earthquake. The walls were lined with deep marks, and the bodies of the dead security agents flashed in his mind. A faint scent of crackling smoke like from faulty wiring hit his nostrils, but before he could address the situation, an odd sound stunned him.

“Upupupupu!”

Raz gasped, and the others jerked their heads around, baffled by the strange laugh. They shook off their weariness, frozen and frightened from the unbecoming giggle.

“Long time no see, everyone! How have you all been? I’ve been more than well!”

Crystal, sitting in the corner of the room, clapped her head over her mouth. D’art’s eyes widened, murmuring his disbelief. Raz glanced over to them as Adarah shouted to know who was talking.

“We already know that laugh,” Rosana whispered, biting her lip.

“B-but that couldn’t be him. This place is supposed to be t-totally secured,” Niimi retorted, clenching her fists.

“Upupupupu! Don’t doubt the truth. Face forward, and accept it without any kind of bullshit!” Again, the voice rang out, and a chime rang out, forcing their attention to the unfazed monitor on the wall. Static crackled on the screen, swiftly followed by the scarlet mark of a monochromatic beast. “As long as despair reigns, as long as it exists in any way, shape, or form, I will be there!”

The screen burst with light, revealing the interior of the Main Lodge’s cabin. From behind the podium burst up Monosquirrel on a scarlet spring with a coy laugh. He thrust his paw out, waving to the befuddled agents and landed on his furled tail. He scanned the dumbfounded, shrieking agents and continued snickering.

Raz’ mouth fell open, and the world crashed around him once more. He trembled, feeling the ground under his feet shake, and his mind raced with uncertainty. He knew the mastermind was dead, but Monosquirrel laughed before him in Whispering Rock no less. He recognized the wooden walls and posters drawn by former campers. He even noted the old drawing Milka made of Elton from when they were children, and his heart felt like it would collapse into his stomach.

“Who are you?” Vasile demanded, and Dimah hobbled to his side, the creases in her brow deepening.

“Oh, you’re really asking my for my name? That name has been around for years now, and yet, you’re still gonna ask?” Monosquirrel jeered, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it! Asking a question you already know the answer to. Some VP you are, Vasile.”

“It’s Vice Chairman to you,” Amos snapped, and Vasile gripped his shoulder, quickly shaking his head.

“Did you two cause this? You two despairs!” Jiao snapped, pointing at Crystal and D’art, and Danilo cracked his neck, narrowing his glare.

Crystal flinched, stumbling to her feet and shouting, “N-no way! We didn’t do any of this!”

“We’re just as much in the dark as you guys are,” D’art added, glancing at his feet.

“It couldn’t have been them or us for that matter,” Lili said, pulling Chloe to her feet as the younger agent took off her helmet, trying to get her bearings in order. “We haven’t been to Whispering Rock since the killing game. There’s no way we would’ve had time to set any of this up when Mavra’s branch was spying on us.”

“She did that because you guys were acting shifty!” Amos barked, and Monosquirrel cleared his throat.

“Regardless of all that, I have a proclamation!” Monosquirrel interjected, clapping his paws. “Hello, my dear friends at the P-sychonauts! You’re all so wonderful! Putting your best efforts in to bring hope back to the world and end the reign of despair. It’s absolutely noble, and everyone here is a beacon of hope in their own right. Hell, even the Soldiers of Despair fell to you guys, and they were the next generation of Ultimate Despair!”

Raz grit his teeth. The harrowing clashes between their branch and their apprentices had truly been chaotic bloodbaths. Those children had no rationality, choosing to kill and despair to their own desires. Massacring and ruthlessness became their bread and butter until their leader simply decided to stop for his own curiosity. Raz could only imagine the further bloodshed and trauma they would endure and cause if Ford had not acquiesced to Raz’ offer of the Hope Restoration Project.

Monosquirrel sighed, setting his palm to his head. “Oh, it’s so sorrowful! Despair is gonna fade out soon, replaced by grotesque hope! Oy vey! What’s there to be done?”

No one answered Monosquirrel’s lamentations. They watched him spin on his tail, heaving out a sigh before popping back onto his feet. Monosquirrel chuckled into his palms and clasped his cheeks.

“With that being said, I want to offer my sincere, heartfelt congratulations to you all for your work in battling despair,” Monosquirrel said, “which is why I’m inviting you all to participate in the P-sychonauts Mutual Killing Game!”

Balking expressions swapped out the confusion and horror. Monosquirrel’s words rained down upon them in a merciless torrent. Dimah snarled that he was ridiculous, but Monosquirrel continued laughing.

“Say what you want, but it’s true. You can’t escape here until the killing game is finished,” Monosquirrel sneered.

“Kill each other? Are you insane?” Jiao hissed, clinging to Danilo.

“Not insane, just despairing! Besides, this will be the third killing game, which makes it third time’s the charm, right?” Monosquirrel gestured at the former counselors. “You have guys are experienced, so I expect your cooperation as the newbies’ seniors in killing game etiquette.”

“Not a chance!” Raz shouted, glaring at Monosquirrel, who replied with another chuckle. “We won’t kill each other again. Not now and not ever again. Your game is already over.”

“Oh, Raz, you simpleton, you shining hopester! The game’s already started,” Monosquirrel said, and a second screen popped up beside him. “Why don’t you take a look?”

The screen showed the outside of the base. Rocky and metallic debris surrounded the runway where the submarines were set and destroyed. Their propellers and windows were smashed with glass and sharp debris, covering the walkway to the entrance. Raz noted the strange fogginess surrounding the feed as if it had been recorded with a cheap cell phone only for his eyes to widen.

The others could only gasp and stare as the shadowed body came into view, but Chloe screamed. Blood slithered down the runway along with torn pieces of fabric. A pair of broken glasses were crushed in the person’s slashed palm. Orange hair was matted with dried blood. The body was simply mutilated, carved like a turkey dinner, with the muscles of his arms and slashed neck painfully in view. The scars on his body were freshly ripped open and drained out to the point where Raz could see bone.

Bobby’s mouth was open in a small gape with his tongue poking out, and dried tears stained his face, mingling with cold sweat and ichor. He laid on his back with a curved knife plunged into his heart. His hands were completely painted with blood along with most of his clothing.

“B-Bobby?” Raz whispered, eyes painfully wide, and Lili covered her mouth next to him.

Chloe would not stop screaming as Monosquirrel guffawed, drinking in the sheer, undeniable horror beseeching the rest of the agents. Azalea closed in on themself, clutching their shoulders and turning away with their eyes clenched shut. Maloof stared down at his feet, too stupefied to remember to shriek while Mikhail’s fingers dug into his forearm, pushing down so painfully as if trying to wake up. Franke covered her eyes, turning away and uttering a sob, and Crystal dropped to her knees, cheeks puffing out as if she would vomit.

“What the fuck did you do to him? What the fuck did you do?” Chloe shrieked, trying to storm forward, but Lili snatched her arms, her own expression drained of color.

“What did I do? Nothing! I’m in Whispering Rock! Consider me the the master of the opening ceremonies,” Monosquirrel said, inspecting his claws.

Lili pinpointed her glare. “Which means you’re being controlled-”

“How the hell are you so calm?” Chloe barked, ripping her arm away from Lili. She snatched Lili’s uniform, pushing her back into the wall as the other branch heads watched. “Bobby’s fucking dead! You’re just standing here making observations that won’t help us! We have to go outside now!”

“Calm down, Chloe! We can’t do much now,” Franke interjected, shaking her head.

“What would you know? You didn’t even live long enough to see a camp trial!” Chloe snapped, and Franke’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline.

“What the hell did you say to me?” Franke snapped, and D’art seized her wrist.

Maloof opened his mouth, ready to shout when a flash of red caught his attention. Glancing at his wrist, Maloof read the flashing words, gasped, and promptly covered his mouth.

“Silence!” Dimah boomed, ending the argument before it could truly begin. She ran her eyes over the panicked, seething group and lowered her voice. “Monosquirrel, what are your intentions with us?”

“Clean our your ears, hasbeen! A killing game is a classic. In fact, haven’t you all…” Monosquirrel snickered. “...missing one of your own?”

“You murdered Bobby! That’s-!”

“Where’s Mavra?” Vasile demanded, surveying the group and silencing Chloe.

At the sound of his daughter’s name, Grigory stirred and looked around. He rubbed the wariness from his eyes and called Mavra’s name. Tiger set two fingers to his temples, attempting to reach her telepathically only to sense nothing.

“If I could interject,” Monosquirrel sneered, “try looking at the table.”

Raz narrowed his eyes at the table. His eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, but he could not see anything out of the ordinary until a strange sound assaulted his ears. Like a teardrop landing into a puddle, Raz watched ichor drop from the ceiling and land against the table. Raz’ breath was caught in his throat, and he, along with the others, looked at the chandelier hanging above them.

“I forgot to mention something!” Monosquirrel jeered as quiet gasps of acknowledgement filled the room. “These games always start out with two corpses!”

Pinned to the chandelier with a curved knife stabbed into her heart, legs and arms spread out, was Mavra. Blood dribbled from her mouth into her eyes, staining her sclera crimson. Slash marks were present on her wrists like lopsided ribbons. Her tongue looked as if she had been chomping down on it with it spewed out of her mouth yet with her teeth embedded into it. Monosquirrel’s laughter was like background music in a horror movie as the chandelier shifted, rocked by some invisible force and sent her corpse tumbling off onto the table.

“Mavra! Mavra!” Grigory shrieked, storming for the table, but when he started climbing onto the table, the chandelier broke. The glass edges slammed into her body, gouging into her back and limbs while her neck gave a sickening crack as metal smashed into it. Garbled groans escaped Grigory’s mouth as he clutched his face, shaking his head and dropping to his knees.

“Mavra!” Raz heard Mikhail quietly shriek her name, sending him a glance and finding him looking like a ghost.

“Upupupu!” Monosquirrel raised his paw. “Now, everyone, let’s begin what I hope is our final killing game. The finale between hope and despair. You won’t let Bobby and Mavra die in vain, right, Raz?”

Raz gnashed down on his teeth, feeling as if and Monosquirrel were the only ones present. The oppressive air bore down onto him as the shouts from the others faded out.

“After all, Razputin Aquato, this killing game is our conclusion,” Monosquirrel continued, his face filling the entire screen. “This story will have its end, and this series will be over with you and me. Hope? Despair? Let’s give it everything we’ve got in this exciting, heart-pounding final game! Ahahahahahaha!”

As Monosquirrel laughed, Raz felt the finality pinch at his skin. The killing game’s memories burned in his mind. Corpses and executions, the final expression of his friends before their deaths, and even the mastermind’s despair all tainted his thoughts as Monosquirrel announced the beginning of the end.

The P-sychonauts Mutual Killing Game’s curtain opened, and all that could be seen as far as the eye could see was merciless despair.

Your body double has served so well, and you despaired heavily as she tore through her own flesh for your sake. Truly, she was a perfect partner. Dedicated, dumb, and devious, the perfect combination for a devout devotee. You enjoyed watching her slash through her knees as she made her way up onto the chandelier before plummeting her body onto the sharpened glass crystals. As the knife impaled her heart, you uttered an elated sob.

As the supposedly hidden headquarters explodes around you, the grin on your face stretches into your cheeks. Your high heels click on the linoleum floor with each controlled step. Electricity bursts out of the ceiling in chaotic sparks and friz your long hair. You extend a poisonous finger and catch a charred flare, snickering as it burns your flesh before discarding it to the smoke welcoming you to the outside.

Inhaling a thick breath, you smile as the underwater building bursts and explode around you. Frenzied aquatic life swims away even though they are in no trouble. Debris slams all around, impacting the ground with harrowing, deafening crashes. Metal chunks of walls and machinery maim agents bursting out with guts and blood.

Your target is frantically calling on his cell phone. He screeches his pandemonium. The Super Psychonaut Level Street Fighter stomps around, streaking calloused fingers into his orange hair. You say nothing as you silently approach, inhaling the chalky smog and hopelessness.

Snatching his shoulder, you hear him yipe and shove your phone in front of his face. There is no time for him to react except for his eyes to widen. His mouth slacks. The images on your phone flash, syncing despair right into his mind. Gray swirls in his eyes. He is utterly and painfully transfixed, and you know he is drowning in heapless despair.

His phone falls, ending the call with his desperate ally. His lips trembles, and he clutches his face, pulling down scarred flesh. He screams, dropping his knees, but his eyes remain on your sleek phone. He wails, shaking his head and digging his fingers through his skull. Spittle flies from his chapped lips. Veins bulge on his neck, and you chuckle, knowing your job is done.

From your back pocket, you retrieve the curved knife shaped like Monosquirrel’s dastardly eye. You toss it at his knees, and he immediately scrambles for the blade. He sputters feeble apologizes in crooning moans before plunging the knife deep into the scar on his massive arm. Blood spurts as he carves himself like a Thanksgiving turkey. He haphazardly slashes the knife along scars, and they burn with oozing despair. He cares not for his body, and you laugh under his breath.

With the final plunge into his heart, he stiffens. His once frenetic eyes grow mollified. He shifts and falls on his back, twitching once before gong still. Blood streams down in his chin in thin lines. Sinews and muscles are exposed under the burning smoke.

Taking his fallen phone, you film his desecrated corpse. Holding your breath, you scan the ground to build up the proper suspense before focusing on every injury his body has to offer. You bit your lip when the final shot of his bulging, bloodshot eyes shed their final tears. If you were not the Super Psychonaut Level Translator, you are certain you would make for a fine filmographer.

Carelessly tossing the phone, you smash through it with your sharpened heel. The screen blackens instantly and shatters like glass. Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you step over the unsightly corpse.

Niimi ambled down the barren hallway. Cracks littered the metal walls. She watched electricity crackle in the faulty wiring. The Super Psychonaut Level Chemist rubbed her bare forearms and withheld a sneeze. Peering up at the dim lighting fixtures, Niimi brushed through her short, messy hair and came out to what appeared to be an arena for agents to train. The deep blackish-blue floor spread across to the farthest wall. Faint dust swept up around her from the uncleaned ground. Various monitors illuminated the Monosquirrels’ scarlet mark, leaving the room with a mildly red hue. Bullseyes for PSI blasts were on the large steel pillars. A swirling staircase surrounded the outer rim of the arena leading to higher levels for different training rooms or spectator seats. She kicked over a few pieces of rubble and checked her band, finding she had plenty of time until the reset.

Niimi adjusted her clip-on tie. Checking her right ear, she secured her headset and mumbled into it, hoping she would reach Vasile or Amos kept on their person. When silence resounded, she sighed and tugged her sliding sleeves up past her wrists and cuffed them.

Moments ago, she had followed Crystal and Montrell down an alleyway only to lose them when Crystal struck up the debris, shielding themselves from Niimi’s sight as they escaped. It seemed they were distracting her for Raz’ sake, but she did not realize that until it was too late. When she tried retracing her steps, she found herself horribly confused on her location. She had been tempted to kill both of them when they were in her sights, but the blank, mischievous smile on Crystal’s face baffled her as Raz’ announcement echoed on the intercom.

Despair still sweltered in the former mastermind. Like Vasile predicted, Crystal was truly despairing. The way she asked to borrow one of Montrell’s crutches to “take care” of Niimi dumbfounded her, and Niimi realized that Crystal was in a despairing league of her own. Even if she had been catered to by the Whispering Rock branch, she had an absolute capacity to induce hopelessness. She supposed being around the true mastermind rubbed off that dangerous aura to his second-in-command.

Niimi itched her throat, irritated with herself. She was supposed to be the fourth branch head, but she cowered before the mastermind. Vasile and Amos would have been disappointed, and she craved to repay the debt of gratitude she owed. Along with Mavra, they rescued her from solace when she was evicted from the Academy because of situations beyond her control. Chewing on her lip, Niimi cursed under her breath.

Footsteps distracted her. Swallowing a yelp, Niimi jerked her head to an adjacent hallway, and her eyes widened. Niimi hunched forward, slowly raising her forefingers to her temples.

Jiao and Danilo approached her but maintained a favorable distance. Jiao leaned into Danilo, revealing an iron skewer in his left hand. A sleazy smile slipped across his face. Danilo cracked his knuckles and neck as Jiao waved her.

“Niimi! So glad to run into you!” Jiao exclaimed, stepping front of Danilo.

“Wh-what do you want? Are you going to accuse me of being the traitor again?” Niimi spat, gritting her teeth.

Waving his hand dismissively, Jiao remarked, “Don’t be stupid, okay? I didn’t expect to run into you.”

“Lower your stance. We’re not here for a fight,” Danilo said, tapping his temple.

“But we are here to negotiate!” Jiao added, beaming. “The second time limit ended only around ten minutes ago. That gives us plenty of time to catch up.”

Niimi lowered her finger to her neck and pulled her collar. Keeping her fist clenched by her chest, she asked, “What are you planning, Jiao?”

“What did you think of Raz’ proclamation? Pretty hilarious, if you ask me. The fool really thinks he can spout his beliefs about those despaired brats after Tiger died,” Jiao interjected, shrugging. “Poor old bastard might have even been killed by Raz.”

“Wasn’t Tiger with Crystal and Montrell along with Raz?” Danilo asked, and Jiao nodded.

Niimi tensed. Her knuckles turned white as she drew them to her chin. The other mastermind’s wicked expression seeped into her thoughts, but she dashed them when Jiao snapped his fingers.

“If anything, we can assume Raz is either with those kids and is killing the branch heads for them or we can assume he’s really innocent. Either way, he’s an idiot. He’s made himself a target for everyone,” Jiao said, and Danilo crossed his arms.

“It’s not our job to teach Raz a lesson. We have to focus on surviving,” Danilo said. “There’s an attacker out there, and they probably want Raz dead. We’d be best in leaving that guy out of our business.”

“Our priority, after all, is staying alive.” Jiao spun the iron skewer between his slightly pudgy, calloused fingers. He tapped the thin blade against his palm, tilting his head and sighed. Nestling against his boyfriend, Jiao clung to Danilo’s arm. “Danilo and I have absolute trust in each other. We’d never betray each other. We’ve already made our vows.”

“Eh? A-are you two already engaged? You’re barely adults,” Niimi interjected, and Jiao snorted, tearing away from Danilo.

“Don’t be stupid! You know what I meant! Danilo has been by my side since we were kids...just like you used to be, Niimi,” Jiao seethed, whipping the skewer at her. Grinning faintly when she recoiled and peered at the ground, Jiao smiled and added, “Wouldn’t you like to have that all back, Niimi? I’m ready to forgive you for what happened.”

“Don’t play mind games with me. You’ve always been a horrible guy,” Niimi snarled, and Jiao quickly peered at Danilo with pleading eyes.

“Aren’t you the horrible one? You’re the one who ruined our lives. With those chemicals of yours, you poisoned Jiao’s meals and got us all expelled,” Danilo remarked, and Jiao smirked.

“Correct! Niimi got us kicked out of the Academy! Even if everything wasn’t in your full control, Danilo and I got blamed for the entire incident at Whispering Rock! If you hadn’t betrayed me, if you had just been a better friend, none of us would’ve been expelled!” Jiao jeered, and Niimi gawked, shaking her head.

“That’s wrong! Do you listen to anyone but your boyfriend or do you listen to him because he tells you everything you wanna hear?” Niimi hissed, slipping her hand into her skirt pocket.

“You bitch! Don’t drag Danilo down to your level, traitor!” Jiao shouted, tightening his grip on his skewer. “I was even going to ask for your help. I was going to give you a chance to prostrate yourself before me in order to get out of this hellhole, but I won’t even bother with you anymore!”

Niimi’s eyes widened. “What’s that mean?”

“Cram it! If you change your mind, I may tell you,” Jiao sneered only for Danilo to grip his shoulder. “Hun?”

“Forget her. She’s part of Vasile’s faction. She could be the killer,” Danilo said, and Niimi flinched. “Think about it. Vasile wants to weed out the P-sychonauts. She’s a strong supporter of his cause. That’s why she’s the fourth branch head. She’s directly underneath Vasile’s closest friends, and with Mavra dead, you could say she’s even gone up a rank.”

“H-hold it! I’d never kill anyone who isn’t associated with despair!” Niimi proclaimed, taking her head out of her pocket and turned her hand to her chin, and Jiao snorted.

“Liar! You’ll kill anyone Vasile tells you, and for your own gain, you’ll do everything in your power to ruin others! That’s why you killed Tiger, right?” Jiao demanded, leaning into Danilo. “After all, before we arrived here, we saw you chasing after Crystal and Montrell, and they were the last people with Tiger. Doesn’t that make for a suspicious set of circumstances?”

“That’s what they are! Circumstances!”

“You can’t even retort! No wonder you’re the traitor!” “Big words from big fat liar!”

“Don’t deny it, you scrawny side salad!” Jiao shifted behind Danilo, glaring over from past his upper arm. “Betrayal is in your poisoned blood. You’ve been hurting me since we were kids. That’s why I can say with confidence that you have a high possibility of being the traitor.”

Niimi twitched, hunching forward. She stomped closer, and Danilo set his fingers to his temples. “That’s rich! That’s so ironic! You’ve been using Danilo and me since we were kids! Don’t think you can look down on me anymore! We’re not cadets or students anymore!”

“Keep your assumptions to yourself-”

“Shut up, Niimi! Danilo, I’ll handle her,” Jiao interjected, cutting his boyfriend off. “Besides, there’s evidence about you being the traitor!”

“And what’s that?” Niimi bellowed, sliding her hand to her wrist.

“The bangles! There’s poison in them, and that poison could have been made by the one and only Super Psychonaut Level Chemist!” Jiao barked, raising his bangle. “Think about it! You could’ve saved Felipinho, but you didn’t! You have all of those drugs and chemicals on you, so why couldn’t one of them have saved him? You waited until the right moment to push Amos said to try to save him, but it was too late! That’s your scheme! That’s what you wanted everything to think! That little Niimi, always trying her damn best, couldn’t do it in time!”

“Your illusion is no more. If you surrender, we’ll be lenient,” Danilo scoffed, cracking his neck.

Niimi shot her finger out at them. Her nose wrinkled, and disgust rampantly coursed through her blood. Listening to their drivel and inane claims based on conjecture had been a solemn part of her life. Their demands and accusations predominated her high school days.

“I’m tell you both that you’re wrong! I don’t even know what kind of poison it is! If I had more time with Felipinho’s body, I could’ve analyzed it!” she retorted, and Jiao barked with laughter.

Jiao pushed past Danilo, hot anger streaking across his face. He jabbed the skewer to her nose, shrieking, “And you really think I was born yesterday, right? I’ll never believe you and your lies ever again! You nasty, trashy piece of shit!”

Niimi stabbed herself, and Jiao’s eyes widened. Danilo rushed forward, grabbing him and pulling him backwards. Niimi panted, hunching forward and dropping the syringe. She injected a lime green liquid directly into her wrist, and she grunted, arching her back. Her chest pressed forward, and a hot green gas emitted from her throat. Psynergy crackled along her skin as her muscles spasmed like a ghastly, electrical aura. Her fingers twitched rapidly, and the energy gathered around her forehead like a queen’s crown. Veins bulged by her eyes and brow, and her pupils turned into large, feral slits.

She grinned wildly, stabbing her forefinger to her temple. Fiery rage shot from her brow, but Danilo shielded, propelling the blast backwards. Niimi opened her mouth and chomped on the scorching hot PSI blast. Swallowing it, Niimi pressed against her temples and grinned.

“I’ve recently perfected this chemical. It causes an immediate acceleration of mental power,” Niimi sneered, levitating, “and there are no drawbacks. I can only get stronger and stronger, you pigs.”

“Like you scare me,” Danilo snarled, and Jiao quivered, raising his iron skewer. “You may have received extra training, but Jiao and I are also branch heads. You’re dead, trash queen.”

“I want her head on a platter. Danilo, let’s end this with her,” Jiao murmured, reaching into his back pockets and removed a butcher knife.

Danilo nodded, smiling at him. “It’s been awhile since we’ve fought together.”

“I’m a gentle guy. I prefer the kitchen over the battlefield,” Jiao said, and Niimi grunted, dragging his attention to her.

“Flirting so precociously in front of me is really gross. No wonder Amos always accuses you two of constant PDA,” Niimi spat, “but no more talk. For Vasile and Amos and myself, you two are dead!”

Niimi shot up into the air and pressed her back against the ceiling. Fiery pulses surrounded her, and she launched a plethora of fireballs at the duo. Jiao yelped, stumbling backwards and slashed through the oncoming attacks. Danilo grinned, muttering his excitement and levitated directly into the fray. Fire burned in his eyes, matching the continuously streaming fireballs. He shielded, flying through them, but Niimi grinned as he came closer to her.

Kicking off from the ceiling, she slammed through and broke his shield. She smashed her head directly into his chest, hearing him grunt in sudden distress. Clutching his neck, she raised a fist with syringes each slot between her fingers and shot for his cheek. Danilo cursed and snatched her wrist, keeping the syringes inches from his face. They struggled in midair, and Danilo grit feverishly on his teeth, feeling Niimi’s enforced strength overpower him. Veins and muscles twitched and spiked in their arms as they tried forcing each other back.

Niimi suddenly broke away, thrusting the syringes at the ground. Shouting for Jiao to dodge, Danilo had no time to react when Niimi telekinetically slammed him into the wall. Jiao shielded, preventing the syringes from poisoning him, and Jiao winced, watching the vials break. As they leaked odorous ooze, Jiao watched in blank horror as Niimi repeatedly smashed Danilo into the wall with a mighty telekinetic hall.

“Y-you-! Get away from my man!” Jiao shrieked, and he retrieved a confusion grenade, launching it at her feet.

“Like that can reach me!” she jeered, kicking it back at him and continued strangling Danilo against the wall.

Niimi, infused with enhanced psychic power, felt like a goddess. As Danilo writhed underneath her telekinetic claw and Jiao shielded from his own confusion grenade, she wondered what Mavra would think. Niimi watched Danilo’s complexion turned aqua, and she wrenched him from the wall, thrusting him down to Jiao. As Jiao scrambled to telekinetically catch him, Niimi lowered herself to their level.

“What’s the matter? The mighty Super Psychonaut Level Gang Fighter can’t handle a little extra PSI power?” Niimi sneered, revealing more syringes. “I got more where that comes from. If I ever get tired, I’ll pump myself up again.”

“Jesus! You’re like an athlete on ‘roids!” Danilo barked, regaining his breath.

“H-hun, are you okay?” Jiao blurted, but Danilo pushed him back. “H-h-hun?”

“Stay back. She’s dangerous. Let me handle this,” Danilo ordered, and Jiao groaned in bewilderment as Niimi’s smirk stretched.

Niimi extended her free hand, and electrical pulses danced between her fingers. She suddenly smashed the ground, causing heavy wires to break free from the ground and snatch their legs. Electricity pulsed along their bodies, and they screamed. Jiao dropped his blades, and Niimi laughed, ripping the wires out of the ground. She clutched the heavy coil of wires and suddenly swung them around, smashing them into the wall.

“E-electrokinesis, too? What doesn’t this bitch have?” Jiao groaned as he sat up in the rubble., and Niimi confiscated Jiao’s weapons. As she raised the blades to his throat, he blurted, “P-please, stop, Niimi! Aren’t we friends?”

“Can it! You can’t say we’re friends after all you’ve done, backstabber! Friends don’t get their friends expelled from the Academy!” Niimi snarled, raising the iron skewer high above Jiao’s head. “Why don’t you try to run? Leave Danilo all alone! It’s all you’re good for! I’ll take good care of him!”

Jiao clutched the stone and metal debris underneath him, seething, “Fucking bitch! Don’t you dare doubt how I feel about Danilo!” “Come on! You watched him get clobbered by him seconds ago! You didn’t even do anything to help!”

Danilo remained on the floor, rubbing his seared flesh. He gripped his neck, choking out, “S-someone like you sh-shouldn’t be spouting such garbage! It was all because of y-your poison to Danilo’s dishes! You hated us!”

“That’s right! You told me the wrong bottle to get for my dishes on purpose! You tricked me! We got more shit because of you! You were saved by Vasile, but Danilo and I were left to rot! Hell, the Despair Event was almost a blessing in disguise just for us to get back on the good graces of the P-sychonauts!” Jiao shouted only to pale instantly when Niimi roared and aimed the iron skewer right for his eye. “D-Danilo, help!

Danilo rubbed his skull, feeling faint blood slipping down his neck. Stumbling to his feet with the blade inches from his boyfriend’s eye, he felt the cold wall behind him, and his grip slipped downwards, setting something off.

Light burst around them, and Niimi moaned, covering her eyes. Danilo looked at the wall, realizing he had snatched a massive latch which controlled the lighting. Niimi hurriedly levitated and dropped Jiao’s weapons, flying into the air away from them and suddenly raced towards the staircase. Faint numbers illumined on her bangle in a lime green color. Jiao’s eyes widened, perplexed by her retreat as Danilo shouted at her to return.

“Why would she run? Cowardly-huh? Jiao?” Danilo murmured as Jiao clutched his blades.

“I have a guess as to what her forbidden action is,” Jiao sneered, peering over to Danilo. “We have to force her back into this room. That girl is so bad with directions, so it shouldn’t be too hard. A few tricks will suffice to get idiot bimbo back here. Will you help me?”

Danilo smiled and nodded, wiping his blooded handprint on his pants. Jiao frowned, taking Danilo’s palm and rubbing it on his shirt. Danilo blushed, glancing away as Jiao fussed over him, taking a towel from his pocket to clean his head. Hearing Danilo mumble he was fine, Jiao grinned.

“Once we have that liar in our clutches, we can have her spill the beans. Afterwards, I’ll make us a big meal! It’ll be a celebration when we finally reveal the real traitor to the other branch heads!” Jiao gushed, setting his blades into his cloth belt and hugged his boyfriend around his neck.