Gah. Reader, my headache is just this side of crippling. I- ah, the words hurt. Imagining the letters is too much effort. I’ll tell you what I can.
The Issacary Echelon is back. For certain. Aboard a bus headed westbound, I stuffed myself amongst the wounded and worn seats pocketed in the back. During one of my long bouts of sleeping wakingly, I sensed the presence. Low – at first. You know the sensation. When power fills the room.
Aboard the bus, I was the only one to stir. Given no one else moved, I knew it had to be another hex user. But not one I knew. And one who was deliberate and nimble in suppressing their aura. Distressing. Most hex users keep their aura close to themselves, as to be easily identified by other members. A sort of tacit hello.
I realized my aura was held close. Dangerous. I pushed it to fill the bus. They knew. We knew. But we did not know who specifically.
Eyes shut. Feign sleep. Cannot betray myself.
Not good enough. The agent of the Issacary had already started the search. They were infiltrating the minds of unwilling riders. I could feel them hopping in and out of people’s heads. Forcing themselves into the most protected sanctuaries of our species. Now the riders were aware. But not of what.
If I deflected I would be revealed. If I permitted I would be revealed – perhaps even killed that instant. Forgive me for what I chose to do. Once I’m back I will turn myself over to the Dominion for judgment, but let me have it on the record: I did this only in self-defense and the defense of others. I too started hopping minds.
So many thoughts reader. Thoughts of family. Thoughts of food – lots of food thoughts actually. Thoughts infused with images. Images of stories being read. Images of the pictures people were looking at on their phones. Infused with Emotions. Emotions like boredom, like contentment, like arousal? Emotions like suffering, emotions of discomfort, emotions of fear.
We were advancing on each other, jumping in and out of alternate perceptions. Heading towards convergence in the middle of the bus. But I must have been close. The feelings were ever nearer to the sensation of having been violated. Through the distressed seats and distressed passengers, we found one another.
There was a mental clash and we both winced. Two cars colliding head on. Rendering both drivers incapacitated. It was temporary, but not without excruciating pain. She had inadvertently exposed herself and I had done the same.
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