Journal Entry 4
I cause pain to everyone I meet.
Chapter 2: "Useless Gossip"
The pain refused to fade. Navigating the hallways and staircases filled with students was more difficult than Max could have dreamed. Every nerve in his body flared with warning for nonexistent wounds. He struggled not to faint with every step he took. Fortunately, no one paid attention to him. All of the other students were focused on their own problems, test scores, dating, and rumors. Of course, considering that a Meta Psychosis rampage just occurred, the fight proved to be everyone's favorite topic. Almost all of his peers were staring at their phones with wide eyes. They were amazed by the string and light heroes.
Max was used to hearing about the vigilantes fighting in the streets. With rampages happening every day, there was always new Visionary gossip. The boys gushed about the amazing powers, and the girls giggled about the handsome light hero. Even the teachers and staff discussed the events of the morning. Although, the adults were more concerned with the collateral damage. As always, no one discussed the possible victims who could have been hurt during the conflict, but that might be because Max had never allowed someone to perish during a frenzy. He should be grateful that no one realized how close people came to dying.
Despite his attempts to keep a low profile, Max knew that he stood out among the sea of students. He was the only one allowed to wear a jacket indoors. If someone else had a hood covering their head, a teacher would have scolded them. Max was the exception because the staff knew that he would be a distraction no matter what. His old scars always drew attention. Everyone allowed him to wear his hoodie in the hallways simply because ignoring the rule made people more comfortable.
Some of the students and parents complained, but one look at him made them go quiet. By now, his special status was silently accepted. Thankfully, most people didn't make a fuss about him anymore. Others avoided him. He didn't have any friends, but the bullies left him alone as well. Max was probably too low of hanging fruit for them, making them feel uncomfortable when he silently accepted their abuse. His neutral expression, lack of voice, and brutal scarring drove almost everyone away. There was only one exception.
"Good morning, Maximus!" Daphne pulled her phone away from her ear and waved at him as he approached their classroom. She was a lithe young woman with fair skin. Freckles dotted her face. The girl always seemed to be smiling. Wide blue eyes sparkled at the center of her round features. Her long, chestnut hair rolled all the way down to her back. Daphne chose to wear the skirt version of their uniform. The fabric of her white blouse and black tie swayed as she motioned at him.
Max's face felt hot upon seeing her. He waved back and held up his phone which read the message, "Good morning."
Daphne's eyes sparkled with joy upon seeing him return the greeting. Earlier in the year, he had been too shocked by her attention to do anything other than stare at her. Before they could start a conversation, noise from her phone drew her attention back to her call, "Celestia, what do you mean you missed the train?! You're going to be late again!"
Max decided against interrupting her conversation further. Instead, he stepped into the classroom with a lighter heart. Daphne was a kind person, acknowledging even him. She was one of the more popular students in the school. The young woman was beautiful, athletic, and charismatic. Few people could look at his scars without acting awkward. Even most teachers even stammered when his neutral gaze met them, but Daphne greeted him with an unfaltering smile.
Crow materialized next to him as he slid into his seat, "You should ask her on a date."
Max's response was to grimace. He didn't want to put her in the awkward position of rejecting him. Plus, the Visionary's fluttering heart couldn't withstand having yet another dream crushed. Sighing, Max ignored his imaginary friend's voice in favor of preparing for class. The young man shed his jacket, revealing his own white shirt and dark tie. Eyes spread across the room flickered towards him before the people turned back to their conversations. Even he wasn't allowed to wear his hood up during class. There could only be so many exceptions permitted for one student, even for the school freak.
He placed his phone onto his desk and plugged the mobile into his workstation. The device flashed for a moment before activating the hologram projector next to the camera. His books and assignments appeared in front of him. In order to keep students focused, their personal device needed to be hooked into the classroom system at all times. If they tried to message anyone or search for anything outside of the curriculum, the teacher would be alerted.
When his Realization app first appeared on his phone, Max had been worried that the school would discover his status as a Visionary. The police were permitted to arrest anyone who posed the threat of a Meta Psychosis rampage. Thankfully, there wasn't a system developed yet to detect the transformation software, and only the user could see the Realization app. No researcher, engineer, or programmer could comprehend the strange technology. They proclaimed that the process seemed closer to magic than science. Meaning, the only people detained by the authorities were those who surrendered themselves in fear of harming others, and those individuals were rare.
With his phone connected, Max examined his homeroom. His teacher sat at her desk in front of the students. Her eyes were glued on her computer monitor, checking her notes. She seemed to enjoy teddy bears holding numbers. The entire chamber was decorated with the stuffed animals. Even the motivational posters on the walls showed the fluffy creatures. Max thought she was good at her job, but math was his least favorite subject. Having algebra class first thing in the morning felt like a cruel joke.
Luckily, the math instructor ignored him most of the time. He was often placed at the back right corner of every classroom, next to the door. Most of the teachers put him in the same spot. There wasn't a coordinated effort. In fact, Max didn't think they assigned him to the seat consciously. His appearance simply made most people feel uncomfortable, especially when they learned the cause of his scars. Having him front and center always disrupted the class. Thus, he was pushed away, and Max didn't blame them. If he could gain some distance from himself, the Visionary would have done the same.
"Did you see? Someone actually caught a picture of Featherman!" A nearby student exclaimed.
Max didn't react to the other teenage boy's words. Although, he did want to scowl. Many of the students in and out of the classroom were observing pictures and videos of the rampage. Most of the recordings were of the heroes fighting the dinosaur. A few of the images showed people being pulled into the shadows and teleported away from the danger. Of course, Max didn't have the power to instantly transport objects. He simply moved through the shadows at speeds normal humans couldn't follow.
Usually, no one saw his face, but this time, the people on the train had taken photos of him shielding them from an attack. Everyone was gossiping about him. Max thought that Featherman was a terrible nickname created by the media, but he was the only active Visionary who didn't announce his imaginary friend's name to the public. Because he intervened during every rampage, the populace was aware of him saving innocents. Opinions in him were generally positive, but there were plenty of critics who didn't like the fact that he never attacked the rampagers suffering from Meta Psychosis.
"The guy looks beat up," a girl giggled. "He must be weak."
"Yeah. Look at his arms and legs," a guy snickered. "Who imagines something so pathetic looking?"
"There are over two hundred posts on here from people talking about how he saved them," a girl in a different conversation whispered.
"Maybe he's the teammate of Atropos and Polaris?" her friend suggested. "He does the protecting while the others fight?"
"Which one do you think is strongest?" a boy in a third conversation asked.
"Probably Polaris. He does the most damage. Meanwhile Atropos holds them down and Featherman evacuates the area," another teenager snorted. "It makes sense that the weakest guy gets the boring job."
None of their useless gossip was true. Max had never once spoken with the vigilantes. They didn't coordinate their efforts. Three people arrived at the scenes of the rampages and acted independently. In fact, the heroes caused almost as much damage as the people suffering from Meta Psychosis. If Max wasn't there, people would surely die, and his classmates couldn't make light of the situation. Most individuals would have been angry at their dismissive attitudes, but Max was actually happy at how carefree they were. Their mocking jokes meant that none of them were afraid of discovering that their loved ones had perished during an attack.
Thankfully, the city government had always managed to repair the damage caused by the rampages. Few Visionaries went public with their abilities. Those who did reveal themselves were either detained or forced to work for the municipality. One of the Visionaries fixed all of the damage caused by the Meta Psychosis episodes. He could undo all the destruction as long as the target wasn't living. This allowed the officials to appear competent despite not knowing how to prevent the disasters.
The bright side was that no one in the city of Birchland was living in terror. Heroes protected them. Government Visionaries maintained their home. To the public, the entire process seemed like entertainment to them, but Max knew the truth. Every day, he suffered the worst agony imaginable, making him believe that he was about to die. He silently carried the burden for everyone else, because the teenager knew the consequences if he was ever prevented from rushing to battle. If people ever died during a rampage, their safe bubbles would pop.
When the warning bell rang, all of the other students took their seats and plugged their phones into their desks. As always, Daphne's friend Celeste rushed into the room at the last second. She was a colorful girl. Her short, wild hair was neon blonde. Heart shaped bandages were pressed over her tanned face, even though she had no wounds. Other bright decorations dotted her arms. A yellow jacket was tied around her waist, providing even more variety to her uniform. Normally, the staff would tell her to remove the distractions, but they couldn't because bandages were allowed and because she wasn't actually wearing the hoodie.
Her bright blue eyes sparkled as she loudly declared her usual apologies. With a wave, the teacher dismissed her to her seat. Celeste was rarely punished for breaking the rules. The girl's charisma carried her through most situations. She could make jokes during class with minimal chastisement. Even Max was amused by her antics. He was grateful that he shared his lessons with her. Celeste compensated for how he drained the life out of the room.
The school day proceeded as normal. His morning classes were the same. Everyone acted their usual roles. All of the lessons followed the schedule. Thankfully, there were no quizzes or tests that day. Max could simply sit in silence at the back of each classroom. No one paid attention to him. None of the teachers called on him. He could simply listen to the lectures while silently enduring the intense pain pulsing through his body.
Slowly, his brain realized he wasn't actually wounded anymore. The shadow pain faded throughout the day. Max kept his expression and body language neutral, but he relaxed internally as he returned to baseline. Each trip between classrooms became steadily easier. By the time lunch passed, Max was back to normal. He felt almost euphoric when the memories of the injuries disappeared. The teenager would have smiled in satisfaction if the sight wouldn't have startled the people around him.
This was his reward for helping others. Every rampage, his pain tolerance was pushed further. Max often stood on the edge of madness, staring down at the abyss as his every nerve screamed at him in suffering for hours. As the agony increased, the return to normalcy was a surge of relief. His baseline became steadily more pleasurable each day. He did worry that eventually the wounds would become too much to bear. The teenager scratched at his chest. For hours, he had felt as though the wound was still there. That had to be the limit of his tolerance. Anything more might have knocked him out of his transformation or driven him insane.
"Oh. That's not good," Crow surprised him by materializing next to his desk during social studies. The imaginary friend didn't normally distract him during class. He jumped a little at the surprise, causing his neighbors to give him questioning looks.
Ashamed, Max lowered his head, rubbing his arm as though a bug had bit him. Seeing his discomfort, the other students turned away from him. Their eyes drifted back to their teacher. The old instructor was giving a monotone lecture about the Dark Ages. Most students ignored what the educator said. There were never any pop quizzes in social studies, and the tests always covered highlighted information in their textbooks. Max stared at his holographic screen as he mentally questioned his imaginary friend about what was wrong.
"There's going to be another rampage alarm in the next few minutes," Crow explained.
Max clenched his fists. Two instances of Meta Psychosis never happened in one day. The cleanup crew was probably finishing the repair work at this moment. Another rampage would be devastating. Normally, Max wouldn't have hesitated to intervene. This time, he briefly held himself back. He didn't know if he could handle the pain of another battle. His body had just returned to baseline. Pushing himself further could lead to devastating consequences.
He had experimented with his transformations at the start of the rampages. Max could use the Realization app two times without consequences. The third attempt had almost knocked him out. Crow had explained that the human body couldn't handle the strain of three Actualizations in a twenty-four hour period. His nervous system would go haywire from the stress.
If there was ever a third rampage in one day, he wouldn't physically be able to intervene. A second attack was manageable, but too many wounds could put him into a coma. Like all Visionaries, Max could lose his powers if he was knocked out during battle. The idea of becoming a normal human again didn't bother him. He only fused with Crow in order to protect people. Without his imaginary friend, the young man couldn't prevent people from losing their loved ones.
"Are you really debating this?" Crow asked after a few seconds.
Max's scars burned. His heart hammered in his chest. Bright lights flashed before his eyes. The memories of the past pushed him to move. Before he realized what was happening, Max was standing. His arm was raised, wildly waving his hand. All eyes turned to him as the teacher stopped the lecture. Everyone was shocked. No one had ever seen him act out in school.
"Y-Yes, Mr. Pro?" the instructor blinked in surprise.
Max rapidly typed on his holographic screen. When the message was complete, he spun the image around for everyone to see, "I need to use the restroom. It's an emergency."
"Oh. Yes. Of course," the teacher didn't need to be convinced. The urgent expression on Max's face and the out-of-character actions signaled how serious the situation was. No one wanted an accident in the classroom. The instructor typed on his own screen, sending a hall pass to Max's phone.
Max mouthed his thanks before unplugging his mobile. He charged out the door, leaving his bag and jacket behind in his rush. Slowly, most people turned back to the front of the classroom. The teacher restarted the lecture. While Max's actions were odd, everyone had experienced restroom emergencies before. Only one pair of eyes lingered on the closed door. Daphne stared at the exit in curiosity. Something about the boy's actions was suspicious to her. His body language didn't express a dire need for release. Instead, the sight reminded her of someone who left the oven on for too long and smelled the smoke.
Considering the direction Max was heading and the slam of a nearby door, he did indeed enter the restroom. As such, Daphne peeled her gaze away from the exit. She was about to drop the suspicion from her mind until an alarm sounded throughout the school. Everyone in the room gasped. Out of instinct, they slid under their desks. A Meta Psychosis rampage was occurring somewhere in the city. Metal shutters slid over the windows, and all the doors locked.
The instructor shouted for everyone to remain calm. Thankfully, no one was panicking. They were all whispering in excitement at the idea of a second rampage in one day. Celeste had a frustrated expression spread across her face as the entire school went into lockdown. No one would be allowed in or out of whatever room they were currently occupying. Only Daphne remembered that Max was still in the restroom and that his timing had been unbelievably perfect. It was almost as though he knew an attack was about to occur.