Baroq swung the bathroom door shut, the hydraulic hinge hissing as it sealed Lancet inside with the five students who had made his first week at the Academy a living hell.
The bathroom, even as large as it was, suddenly felt suffocatingly small.
Kallan Kallahan cracked his knuckles as he stepped forward. The lightning continued to sizzle across his fists and his hand, shining a light on the sadistic grin on his face.
He wanted to hurt Lancet.
Lancet took a slow step back, his shoes squeaking against the wet tiles. "What the hell do you guys want?"
"Nothing else but beating your ass," Kallan chuckled, fanning out his group to block the door. "It’s a good thing you picked such a spacious bathroom, Slum Rat. It gives us more than enough space to hurl you around."
"Yeah," Stacey Blue chid in, tossing her perfectly styled hair over her shoulder. "Plenty of hard ceramic to scrape your face against."
"We’re going to make you boil," Cecil Darkmatter sneered, heat radiating from his palms.
"And shatter," Cillian finished, icy vapor rising above his shoulders.
Lancet continued to backpedal. "Didn’t you guys hear the rumors? I just beat Nereus Grimlake and I have a new Summon. Do you really want to summon Thor right now?"
"Hahahaha!" Kallan laughed mockingly. Then he opened his arms wide. "Go ahead! Do it! We both know you won’t."
The Lightning Mage took another step closer, his grin widening. "The thing about you Summoners is that your powers can’t be used quietly. Summon her, and everyone in the corridors will find out. A three-hundred-year-old legend like her doesn’t know how to battle without making a scene. And once you’re caught using your powers in the halls, you’d be expelled. Good riddance."
Lancet gritted his teeth. Dammit. He’s right.
"Get him, Baroq!" Kallan barked. "Stacey, ss with his mind! Twins! Make him feel the heat!"
Cillian poked his head out of Kallan’s side, looking slightly peeved.
Kallan looked at him. "Oh. The cold too."
Cillian smiled then joined his cohorts as they slowly advanced towards the slum rat.
Lancet imdiately tried to drop into the defensive stance Astensia had drilled into him. But when Stacey’s voice sneaked into his mind, his concentration was completely shattered.
Stacey’s eyes glowed purple and that sa light shone on Lancet’s forehead. From that mont, Lancet felt an irrational fear towards the bullies.
His vision blurred, his heart hamred against his ribs, and his muscles locked up.
He tried his very best to shake the ntal paralysis, but a pair of thick, aty arms quickly wrapped around his neck from behind.
Baroq Chairhead had crossed the room in a second, locking Lancet in a crushing chokehold that imdiately cut off his air supply.
Lancet gagged, his hands flying up to claw at the Barbarian’s massive forearms.
"Hehehehe!" Cecil laughed like a snake. "You’ve got him where we want him."
"Let’s chill him up," Cillian said.
His brother, Cecil, snapped his head at him. "You forgot about ! We can’t both chill him up. You should have said sothing else."
Cillian raised a curved eyebrow. "Sothing else like what?"
"I don’t know but don’t leave out when you drop cool lines. We’re twins!"
"Can you idiots shut up and just hurt him already!"
The Temperature Twins turned to Kallan and smiled. "You got it."
Together, they slowly walked towards Lancet who was struggling to breath, face turning purple, hands clawing at Baroq’s bicep.
"What’s the matter?" Cillian asked mockingly. "Too hot? Maybe I can cool you down!"
He grabbed Lancet’s right shoulder, plunging the temperature to zero and sending agonizing, icy needles deep into his muscles.
"Oh, too cold?" Cecil laughed. "How about I turn up the heat!
He pressed his blazing palms against the left side of Lancet’s ribcage, the extre heat instantly searing through his academy uniform and scorching his skin.
The sensory overload was absolute hell. Lancet scread, but the sound was choked off by Baroq’s grip.
Half of his body felt like it was lting, while the other half felt like it was shattering, and Stacey’s mind magic amplified every single nerve ending, making the tornt feel worse than it naturally should.
Lancet slumped, his vision darkening around the edges, his legs giving out as Baroq held his weight up by his neck.
Kallan sauntered up to him, his face inches from Lancet’s.
"You really think you can co from the slums and just be better than all of us?" Kallan mocked venomously. "Better than people who were actually ant to be Awakeners?"
He stepped backwards then slowly raised his right hand. On his palm, a ball of blue lightning gathered, hungry to strike at a target.
"Keep him straight, Baroq," Kallan ordered. "Let give him a good Thunder Blast."
Kallan drove his glowing palm directly into the center of Lancet’s chest. "Thunder Blast!"
CRACK!
The blast struck Lancet square in the chest, causing him to groan in pain. He’d never been struck by lightning before, but the pain was maddening.
Lancet felt everything in his body tense up. He convulsed in Baroq’s arms before finally going limp, his chin dropping to his chest.
Kallan leaned in close, grabbing a fistful of Lancet’s hair and yanking his head up.
"It hurts, doesn’t it?" Kallan whispered. "Now you know you don’t belong here. You’re weak. Give your Summons to soone better and leave this school before we actually kill you."
Lancet’s mouth hung open. He tried to speak, but the words ca out as a garbled, breathy mumble.
Kallan frowned, looking up at Baroq. "Is he actually dying?"
Lancet slowly raised his head. His blue eyes locked onto Kallan’s, and there were no signs of the induced fear from Stacey anymore.
Surprisingly also, the burns on his left side and the frost on his right seed irrelevant. In fact, he looked brand new. Refreshed. Like they hadn’t been tornting him for the past minute.
"No," Lancet said, then he shot Kallan a smile. "I was just charging up."
Kallan’s eyes widened in shock. "What the hell?"
The others looked at each other like they had just witnessed a resurrection, or at least sothing as impossible as that.
With that mischievous smile still on his face, Lancet tilted his head. "How about a taste of your own dicine?"
The Phantom Conduit Ring on Lancet’s right index finger blinked, showing the counter had reduced from 25 Skills to 24.
He had just absorbed all the punishnt from these goons, and now, thanks to Thor fueling the ring, he could send it all right back.
Lancet pushed his palm forward. Instantly, a roaring blast of lightning erupted from the center, striking Kallan square in the chest.
It lifted the Radiant-Ranked bully completely off his feet and threw across the spacious bathroom, slamming him brutally into the tiled wall near the door.
Kallan slid down to the floor, head low and seemingly lifeless.
The remaining four bullies froze, glancing at their fallen leader and the slum rat who had just struck him with a lightning blast.
"Gosh," Lancet smiled, despite still being held by Baroq. "I’ve always wanted to say that line."
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