There's a quiet murmur of voices outside. Guards, I think. Gently, I reach out with my ability, trying to get a hold on any of their bioelectrical signals. Doctor Selden wasn't lying; I worm my way into a guard's head, and I don't even feel a spark from my collar. It's hard through the thick metal door, but I manage.
I shut my eyes and slow my breathing, focusing. There's a hiss of breath from the guard as I take control of his mind, but I force him to stand stock still, just as he was moments before. The other guard doesn't notice. I open my eyes and two images are blended in my vision. One is of high white walls and my sleep shell, but it's blurry; the other is of a white door with the number 16 printed in block letters on the front. It's my cell door. In my own body, I squint to better focus on the guard's vision. It's been months since I've gotten the chance to use my ability, so I'm a little shaky, but I put all my strength into the guard and just stand there, getting used to inhabiting his body.
I can feel his discomfort. He wants to say something, but his mind is weak. He hasn't yet learned how to bar his mind from intrusions like mine, and I force his limbs to stay relaxed, his eyes to look straight ahead, and slowly, I corner him into the back of his own mind until I'm fully in control. This is what I wanted. He's significantly taller than me, so I take a moment to adjust. I lean him forward just a bit to look both ways down the hallways. There's about two dozen guards down this particular hallway, but it doesn't house all the mutants, as there's only sixteen cells. That's everyone up to the Category 8's, but not beyond. It'll have to do.
"You alright, man?" The guard next to me asks, concern reflecting in his eyes. He's gripping a gun loosely at his side.
The guard's tongue feels heavy as I make him speak. "Fine. Didn't get much sleep last night."
The guard next to me nods like he understands, his gaze wandering. Perfect.
I force the guard to throw an elbow. It catches the other man in the face and his head slams into the wall. He slips down to the floor, unconscious, but I don't have time to relish the victory. I force the guard forward. He rips a keycard from his pocket and swipes it against the wall. I hear the door click from two people and I keep my hold on the guard while simultaneously launching to my feet. The guard pushes the door open and I race out. By now, other people in the hallway have noticed and are either running towards my cell or away from it. I snarl and reach out, grabbing the bioelectrical signals of everyone within fifteen feet. Everyone has a job, as far as I'm concerned; I drag the two guards around me, guns out, for protection. The doctors pull out key fobs of their own run toward the cells, but the sound of denied entry quickly fills the halls. I curse and twist the doctors' necks. They fall to the floor easily and I raise the guns of the guards around me, shooting far down the hallway. It's hard to focus with so many images in front of my eyes and so many muscles to control at the same time, but I try to formulate a plan.
A guard next to me hands me a gun and I sprint toward the Category 2's. There's a certain superhuman with particularly high IQ, and I need him for this. I skid in front of his cell. He's already standing, hands clenched into fists, but I notice his fingers are wrapped around his thumbs. I sigh. He's not a fighter, but I don't need him to fight for the moment.
"How do you unlock the cells?" I ask above the yelling.
He looks stunned for a moment, his jaw hanging open. I'm not patient in a situation like this. I slam my hands on the glass. He flinches.
"The guards each have their own personal fobs! You need the guard that goes with the cell!"
I groan loudly and spin around. In my haste, the guards were everywhere, none of which seemed to be assigned to a particular cell. I curse again and shoot a guard racing toward me at full speed. There's too much going on. I just got out, and already my plan is falling apart.
"Fuck this. There's gotta be an override." I break my hold on the guards furthest from me and they fall to the floor, writhing as they're bombarded with the weight of their own consciousness. I dart around the corner, not even bothering to monitor the carnage left over.
There's chaos everywhere I go. Screaming, gunshots, and the lights start to flicker. I don't know if that's a good sign or a bad sign. My feet pound against the floor and I scan the signs on the doors as I pass, looking for a room with the technology to bypass the locks on the doors.
A bullet whizzes past my ear and I drop to the floor, simultaneously reaching out for anyone's bioelectricity. I shove off the wall and twist, shooting blindly but hitting my mark. The guard falls to his knee with a cry, but he's too far away for me to do anything but push his pain over the edge. I turn and run. If there's one, there will be more. The gun is heavy in my hand.
I slid in front of a room with a glass window. There's a woman on the phone talking quietly and surrounded by computer screens displaying various lists. No cameras.
I kick open the door and she drops the phone with a surprised gasp. I point the gun at her. "How do I disable the cells?"
She points a shaking finger across the hall and I lower the gun. I give her a tiny smile. "Thanks. That's all I needed. Sorry for bothering you." Her eyes are open wide in terror, but she swallows nervously and nods back in recognition.
I punch her across the face and she recoils in shock, slumping against the desk. I sigh. "Secretaries. You don't get paid enough for this."
I dart across the hall, yanking the handle of the door she indicated. It's unlocked and I launch inside, avoiding another hail of bullets. I slam the door shut, fumbling for the lock. The adrenaline is fading out of me now, and my legs start to ache, but I can't slow down.
I glance around, trying to steady my breathing. Okay. There are sixlarge screens against the far wall with a small table and a keyboard. I pace over to it. My hands hover over the keys and I bite my lip, unsure of what to do. I've never used a computer, I was just taught what it was. Maybe I should've gotten that secretary across the hall to help. Would she have helped? I slam my hand on the desk to snap myself out of it. I'm getting distracted. I shouldn't get distracted.
I glance over the keys and tap the largest one.
It does nothing. There's a pounding at the door behind me and blindly I reach out, grabbing the guard preparing to kick the door in. He takes out his gun and the four other men who were standing there are pardoned from life within seconds.
I hiss and refocus, tapping another large button labeled "enter." That does something. A screen above me flashes to white and instructions begin to appear on the screen. It's an agonizingly slow process, but eventually, I navigate it enough to the point where I completely override the locks on all the cells.
I cross my arms, staring at the screens now flashing red. "They should really have a password."
I spin and snag the bioelectric signals of the guards outside, but I can feel myself growing weaker. The guards' consciences feel impossibly strong, and I grind my teeth in strain. I'm stronger, fortunately, but I've controlled nearly fifty guards at this point, and I'm already exhausted.
I cut off circulation to their brains and there are some choking noises outside before the telltale thumps of bodies falling to the ground. Only then do I throw open the door. I want to leave, I want to run, but I can't do this alone. I shake my head and start sprinting back towards the cells as fast as my legs will take me.
I slam into the opposite wall in my poor attempt to turn the corner. I ignore the pain that flares through my arm. The chaos hasn't subsided; there are a few remaining doctors pressing their hands into bullet wounds, murmurs of "you'll be okay" mixing with the pained groans of my victims.
But no mutants.
I roll my eyes and run toward the Category 1 cells. I open Emma's cell and stare inside. She's on her knees, hunched over, hands in her hair. "Emma!" I yell, unable to keep my impatience out of my voice. She doesn't move. Her loss. I open the next door; it belongs to Wayne, the psychometric kid. I don't really know what that means, but if he's a Category 1, it can't be all that bad. I open as many doors as I come across, occasionally shooting a guard that stumbles to their feet or taking hold of a doctor's mind. Both my limbs and my mind feel heavy, so I avoid using my ability as much as possible.
Eventually, I reach the door with the number 14 printed on the front. That's Isabelle. I open her door and stand in the doorway, breathing heavily. She's already standing, hands clenched into fists. Her eyes are hard and cold, but when she sees me, she visibly relaxes.
"I heard the screaming. What's going on?" She asks. Her voice isn't nervous like mine; she knew this day would come.
I give her as much of a smirk as I could muster. "It's the revolution."
She leaps forward, testing her hand on the wall. Her feet lift off the ground and she twists into a handstand, but sideways, off the wall. I smile genuinely this time, and she mirrors it. "How'd you do it?"
"Bold of you to assume I have any idea whatsoever." She jumps down to the floor and paces past me into the hallway, glancing both ways. She rolls her shoulders and cracks her knuckles a few times. I come to stand next to her. When we're working together, not pitted against each other in brutal training sessions, we're unstoppable.
"How are you feeling?" She asks, kicking an unconscious guard at her feet. She knows I took down all these guards alone, but she also knows too much strain takes a toll on me. As if on cue, the room tips and I sway, dizzy. She nods. "You did great. I'll get the rest out, and we'll take it from here."
I shake off the nausea and force my legs into a sprint, following her as she jumps from wall to wall deeper into the hallway. I possess the guards who raise their guns to shoot at her, snapping their wrists easily. I don't even have the energy to kill them. I reach out to steady myself on the wall, watching as Isabelle reaches out with a foot and pulls the doors from their hinges with nothing except her legs. Glancing the other way, I'm disappointed to find only two other mutants are out in the hallway; Dylan, the telepath, and Maya, the hydrokinetic. Both look nervous, and both are Category 4's, which means neither can fight. I grit my teeth and turn away, back to where Isabelle is attempting to coax Jax, the speedrunner, out of his cell. He's a Category 8; that, I can work with.
I blink and feel a gust of wind that blows my hair back. Jax is leaning against the wall in front of me, a sly grin on his face.
"So," he says, gesturing to the dead bodies around us. "A revolution, huh?"
I snort. "And what exactly have you been doing, besides cowering in your room since I unlocked your cells?" I reach out a finger to tap him on the chest. "Oh, you're welcome for that too."
He glances over my shoulder and his warm smile suddenly turns stoic. "I'll be right back." In another rush of air, he's gone.
Isabelle drops from the ceiling to land next to me. "We need the Category 9's and 10's. I don't care about the rest. We need Sarah and Owen, for sure." Sarah can manipulate her own skeleton and heals alarmingly fast, while Owen is a mimic. I nod.
"Absolutely. If you can go find them, I'll try to get everybody else out."
Isabelle steps in front of me, blocking my view of the timid mutants at the end of the hall. Her face is masked with worry. "Be careful, okay? If they won't come with us, kill them. They're a liability."
I smirk. "The same goes for you. Nobody's ever met the Category 10's. We don't know how they'll react, or if they already have."
Isabelle licks her lips. "Just... don't die."
"It's a deal."
She launches off the ground and twirls dramatically to land on all fours on the ceiling. From there, she stands and runs across the artificial lights, giving me a tiny smile before turning the corner. I sigh. I wish I was going with her, but in the state I'm in, I'm no better than a Category 3. Speaking of which, there's one peeking out from their cage. An empath. I growl. We don't need them, and I want to leave before they bring in bigger guards better trained for this, but I have to wait for Isabelle and Jax.
I clench my hands into fists and step over limp bodies, making my way over to attempt to convince ten lost causes.