The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism

I woke up to my phone buzzing at 6:15 AM, which was becoming a depressingly familiar routine. My body didn’t ache the way it used to after these early sessions, courtesy of Boundless Stamina doing its passive healing magic while I slept. Small mercies.

I rolled out of bed and immediately pulled up the interface out of habit, checking my status before my brain fully came online.

The Temptation Gauges stopped me cold.

Sloane had jumped from 51% to 56% overnight. Five percent while I was unconscious and not even in the same room as her. What the hell did that? Was she lying awake fantasizing about me? The thought sent heat straight to my groin before I could stop it.

But that wasn’t the part that made my stomach drop.

Diane’s Gauge had climbed from 15% to 19%.

Four percent. While I slept. While she presumably also slept, unless she was some kind of nocturnal creature that prowled the estate at night plotting my demise.

The System provided its usual helpful commentary.

〘 Attachment metrics frequently increase during processing periods. Subjects often experience emotional consolidation during sleep, particularly after significant social interactions. 〙

"You’re saying they went to bed thinking about me and their brains decided I was worth keeping?"

〘 Simplified but functionally accurate. Sloane Fitzgerald’s gauge advancement aligns with expected progression following physical intimacy and manifestation reveal. Diane Fitzgerald’s advancement suggests her Read the Room Aspect is processing contradictory data regarding your behavior patterns and finding the inconsistencies intriguing rather than suspicious. 〙

"Great. So I’m a puzzle she wants to solve. That’s not concerning at all."

〘 Curiosity is a documented precursor to attachment in intelligent subjects. You should consider this a positive development. 〙

"I should consider it a reason to move to another country."

The System didn’t respond to that, which meant it either agreed or didn’t care about my survival instincts. Probably the latter.

I threw on workout clothes and headed downstairs, my body moving on autopilot while my brain tried to process the implications of both gauges climbing without direct intervention. The house was quiet except for the faint sound of something hitting a punching bag in rhythmic thumps.

Sloane was already awake. Of course she was.

The training room door stood open, spilling light into the hallway. I paused at the threshold and watched her work the heavy bag for a moment, admiring the view because I was seventeen and she looked like that.

Her pink ponytail swung with each strike. Her sports bra and compression shorts left very little to the imagination, and my imagination had been working overtime since last night anyway. Sweat gleamed on her shoulders and the curve of her lower back. Her ass looked phenomenal when she pivoted into a hook.

The Oracle Feed helpfully provided her heart rate, respiration, and the exact angle of her hip rotation. I told it to shut up before it started measuring other things I didn’t need numerical data on.

Sloane caught my reflection in the mirrored wall and spun around, her expression shifting from focus to something I couldn’t quite read. Annoyance? Pleasure? Both?

"You actually showed up."

"Was that in question?"

"Thought maybe your new Aspect would go to your head." She grabbed a towel and wiped her face. "Make you act like a dumbass who thinks he’s hot shit now."

I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me. "I manifested telekinesis, not brain damage. I’m still weak as hell compared to actual Heroes. I’m not stupid."

"Good."

The word came out softer than I expected. She walked toward me, her blue eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my pulse spike.

"Because if you started acting like you were better than everyone just because something finally clicked, I’d have to kick your ass."

"You kick my ass every morning anyway."

"Yeah, but I’d enjoy it more."

She stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I could smell her shampoo mixed with clean sweat. Her Gauge reading pulsed at 56% in the corner of my vision.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning."

Then she kissed me.

Not tentative or questioning like last night in the theater. This was direct and claiming, her hand fisting in my shirt to pull me down to her level. I tasted mint toothpaste and something uniquely Sloane underneath it. My hands found her waist automatically, fingers spreading over skin still warm from her workout.

She pulled back after a few seconds, wrinkling her nose.

"Your mouthwash tastes like hospital disinfectant."

"It’s antiseptic mint."

"It’s disgusting. Buy the blue kind."

"The blue kind tastes like candy."

"Exactly." She stepped back, her cheeks flushed pink but her expression settling back into training mode. "Now get stretched. I’m not going easy on you just because we kissed."

"Wouldn’t want you to."

I moved to the mats and started working through my warmup routine, hyperaware of Sloane watching me from across the room. She’d gone back to the heavy bag but her attention kept drifting my direction between combinations.

The Oracle Feed tracked her gaze duration. I told it to stop being a creep.

After ten minutes of stretching that did absolutely nothing to calm my body down from that kiss, Sloane called me over.

"Show me your Aspect. The telekinesis thing."

Right. Phantom Touch. My fake power that I had to keep performing convincingly or this entire house of cards collapsed.

I focused on the water bottle sitting on the bench near the wall. Spectral Reach activated smoothly, one translucent amber arm extending from my hand like ghostly prosthetic. The construct wrapped around the bottle and lifted it into the air.

Sloane circled me slowly, examining the spectral limb from multiple angles.

"The color’s interesting. Most telekinetics I’ve seen project invisible force or maybe a faint shimmer. Yours has actual substance to it."

"Is that bad?"

"No. Just different." She reached out like she was going to touch the construct, then stopped herself. "What happens if I grab it?"

"No idea. Want to find out?"

"Not today. If it’s connected to your Core and I accidentally trigger a feedback loop, you could get hurt." She gestured for me to put the bottle down. "How’s the weight limit feel?"

"Haven’t tested it properly. The bottle’s easy. The remote last night was easy. I tried lifting the chair in my room and it felt like pushing against something."

"So maybe fifteen pounds before strain sets in?"

"Probably. Give or take."

Sloane nodded, already strategizing. I could see the wheels turning behind those blue eyes.

"Okay. Here’s what we’re doing today. You’re going to work on precision and speed, not weight. Most telekinetics focus on throwing heavy shit around because it looks impressive, but that’s amateur thinking."

She grabbed a tennis ball from the equipment bin and tossed it to me. I caught it the normal way.

"Set that on the ground. Then I want you to pick it up with your Aspect, move it in a circle around your body at shoulder height, and set it back down without dropping it. If you can do that ten times in a row without losing control, we’ll add speed."

I crouched and placed the ball at my feet. "That’s it?"

"Try it first."