Ever since the conclusion of Lucas’ day of silence, he’d felt it—the power within his heart, something this city had suppressed, was quickly starting to well up. He recognized it immediately—the unique, destructive PSI, something shared with no one but his twin. PK Love.
It took some effort for the boy to suppress it when his PSI suddenly felt as though it’d been “uncorked”. Bottlenecked, yes—it was diminished, the same as it had been when he’d first awakened it—but it wouldn’t’ve been very kind to simply loose an explosion of psychic power in the middle of a crowded area all the same.
But it was hard to focus. The sudden release of power was in tandem with a sudden release of emotion. The young psychic had felt a sudden weight in his pocket while walking down the street, and from it he withdrew a small and priceless object.
His father’s courage badge.
Ever since the gravekeeper had delivered it to him months and months and months ago back home, he’d held tightly to it, a lifeline to the small amount of family he had left. Odd that Lucas’ resentment towards his father hadn’t kept him from clinging to that token of his.
It had come as a blow to the boy when he’d arrived in this city with the item nowhere to be found. He’d panicked, thinking he’d lost it—not knowing whether it was at home, here, missing, stolen.
Lucas recalled a recent festival where people had tied their wishes to bamboo plants. Himself, too. He’d wished for a sign, something to know his family, his friends, his world was all right—was this meant to be it? Turning the small, weighty object over in his hands, he mulled over it. He could only hope that was the significance of gaining back the badge.
It had protected him many times, this little trinket. Why it reflected electricity, he hadn’t the slightest idea. Not that he about to take such an oddly useful property for granted, but… too bad it had ultimately been an avenue through which he’d suffered great grief.
The last thing he’d done with the thing back on his island had been to frantically attempt to rip it off himself, after all. It had felled his brother—no, his brother had felled himself with it. In a way, Lucas almost resented the little badge for the deed. If he hadn’t worn it…
The boy tried to push the thoughts to the back of his mind and remain stoic, but the item just held too much emotional weight for him. As he brushed his fingers over its lightning-bolt design, he fought back tears springing to his eyes, mentally straining against his own PSI.
"Dad," he choked out, talking to himself. "I wish… I wish I could give this back to you…"
