Imagination Manifestation: Brainwash II

Bennett leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity. "Everything," she said, her voice a low, seductive purr. "Tell us everything you know about the Seers' plans, their operations, their leadership structure. Every detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem."

Mira hesitated, her gaze flickering towards me. I gave her a reassuring nod, a silent promise that I wouldn't let Bennett harm her daughter.

With a resigned sigh, Mira began to speak, her voice a monotonous drone as she recounted the Seers' secrets, their hidden agendas, and their twisted experiments. She revealed the names of key figures within the organization, their locations, and their individual powers. She spoke of their plans to infiltrate the government, to manipulate world events, and to ultimately establish a new world order under their control. It was a chilling tale, a glimpse into a dystopian future where fear and oppression reigned supreme.

The genius listened intently, their expression a mask of concentration as they absorbed every word. Bennett, her eyes narrowed in focus, occasionally interjected with questions, her sharp mind dissecting Mira's every statement, searching for any inconsistencies or hidden truths.

As the hours passed, the room filled with a chilling tapestry of secrets and betrayals. The Unveiled Family, once ignorant of the Seers' true nature, now faced the harsh reality of their enemy's ambition and ruthlessness. The weight of this knowledge settled upon them, a heavy burden that fueled their determination to fight back.

Finally, Mira fell silent, her voice hoarse from hours of speaking. She looked up at Bennett, her eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and defiance. "That's all I know," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I've told you everything."

"So... you were planning to rule the country by defeating us, the Unveiled, first?" Bennett asked, her voice sharp.

Mira nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor. "That was the goal," she admitted, her voice heavy with defeat. "But... it seems unattainable now."

A heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the soft hum of the prison's machinery. The weight of Mira's confession, the realization of the Seers' grand scheme, hung heavy in the air.

"Are the other Seers still alive?" she asked, her voice a hesitant whisper, her gaze fixed on me.

I nodded, my expression somber. "They are."

Bennett shook her head, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. "I need to go back and compare all of this information," she said, turning to leave. "We'll discuss our next steps soon." With that, she and the genius vanished, leaving me alone with Mira in the stark white prison.

Now it's just me and her... I still want to talk with her, I thought, my gaze settling on the defeated Seer.

Mira sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped and her gaze fixed on the floor. The once-powerful Seer now seemed small and vulnerable, stripped of her authority and her sense of purpose. The weight of her choices, the consequences of her actions, hung heavy on her shoulders.

"So, where does she go to school?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"She...? Ah, you're talking about my daughter?" Mira looked up, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "Why do you ask?"

I raised a finger, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. "So she doesn't feel the loss of her mother," I replied, my voice laced with a hint of playful mystery.

Swoosh! In a blink, a perfect replica of Mira appeared beside me, her features identical to the original, right down to the smallest detail.

Mira's eyes widened in shock. Of course, he's the Imaginary...

"What are you doing with my body?" she demanded, her voice a mix of fear and anger. "Don't tell me you're going to use it for your twisted fantasies..."

"No need for that," I assured her, my smile softening.

The clone stepped forward, its movements mirroring Mira's own, a perfect imitation of her mannerisms. It approached the original Mira, its gaze gentle and reassuring.

"Don't worry, Mira," the clone said, its voice a perfect replica of Mira's own. "I'm here to help. I'll take care of your daughter while you're... indisposed."

Mira stared at her doppelganger, her eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and gratitude. "You... you'll do that for me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The clone nodded. "Of course. She deserves to be loved and cared for, even if you can't be there for her right now."

Mira's eyes welled up with tears, her tough facade crumbling as a wave of relief washed over her. "Thank you," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you so much."

I watched the scene unfold, a sense of satisfaction filling my chest. I had used my power to bring a small measure of comfort to Mira, to ease her worries and ensure her daughter's well-being. It was a reminder that even in the midst of conflict and darkness, there was still room for compassion and kindness.

"I'll make sure she's safe," the clone assured Mira, its voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "And I'll bring her to visit you whenever possible."

Mira nodded, a grateful smile gracing her lips. "Thank you," she repeated, her voice filled with a newfound hope.

With a final farewell, the clone turned and left the room, its footsteps echoing softly as it walked towards the exit. I followed, leaving Mira alone with her thoughts and the promise of a brighter future for her daughter.

"Does the clone even know where I live?" Mira asked, her gaze fixed on me with a hint of suspicion.

I shrugged, "I just copied you, which means the brain remains the same. The difference is, I can control it."

"Huh... just don't do anything weird with my body," she warned, a nervous edge to her voice.

"Why are you acting like I'm a pervert..." I retorted, feigning offense.

Mira scoffed, crossing her arms. "Well, you did just create a perfect replica of me. It's a bit... unsettling."

I chuckled. "Don't worry, I have no intention of misusing your likeness. The clone is simply there to ensure your daughter's well-being while you're here."

Mira remained silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on the floor. Then, she looked up at me, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. "Thank you, Xian," she said softly. "For everything."

This is... embarrassing... being helped by my own enemy... she thought, a complex mix of emotions swirling within her.

I nodded, a gentle smile on my face. "You're welcome, Mira," I replied. "We may be on opposite sides of this conflict, but that doesn't mean we can't show compassion and understanding."

I paused, my gaze meeting hers. "I hope that one day, you'll see the error of the Seers' ways. You can see it was wrong."

She chuckled, a hint of defiance in her eyes. "Wrong or not, it's a matter of perspective. You guys want to rule the world with the power of Harbingers, but we want to eliminate you to remove those powers. Let me tell you the difference."

"The difference... tell me," I said, taking a seat beside her on the bed.

"Why are you sitting beside me...?" she muttered, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Well, never mind. Let me explain. We can't suddenly gain power like the Unveiled. We have to train for it. So, if we were to rule the world and remove the Unveiled, we wouldn't teach our children the power of the Seers, ensuring the world remains safe without such abilities."

I listened intently, my curiosity piqued. Her perspective, though twisted, offered a glimpse into the Seers' ideology, their warped sense of justice, and their misguided belief in a world devoid of Harbinger powers. It was a chilling reminder of the lengths they were willing to go to achieve their goals, even if it meant sacrificing the very essence of what made them unique.

"You know the real story of how we got our powers, don't you?" she asked, her voice a mix of challenge and resignation.

I nodded, "More or less... from what I know, the ancestor performed a ritual with a demon, and the demon warned them not to have children until a certain contract was fulfilled. But the king had a child anyway... and that child inherited supernatural powers. That's how the Unveiled began..."

Mira scoffed, a bitter smile twisting her lips. "That's the version they feed you, the sanitized fairy tale they use to justify their existence. The truth is far darker, far more sinister."

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The Unveiled ancestor didn't just make a deal with a demon. They became the demon. They sacrificed their humanity, their very soul, for the sake of power. And that power, that darkness, has been passed down through your bloodline, generation after generation."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and condemnation. I stared at her, a mixture of shock and disbelief warring within me. The Unveiled Family, the heroes I had admired and fought alongside, were descendants of a demon? It was a revelation that shattered my perception of them, casting a dark shadow over their legacy.

"And then those demons who followed the new king's rule were transformed into Harbingers, unseen creatures lurking like ghosts... and then the first Seer ancestor arose among the Unveiled, Ra Wijaya. He was born different from them, no Harbinger or other powers. He trained hard, just like his siblings, but gained nothing... except, after 15 years of relentless effort, his power finally manifested... but it was different. His siblings merely said, 'You might be... not like us.'"

"So in other words... Seers were..." I trailed off, letting Mira finish the thought.

"Disabled, yes," Mira said with a bitter laugh. "Not strong like the original Unveiled."

A heavy silence fell over the room, the weight of Mira's words hanging in the air. The Seers, once perceived as powerful and enigmatic figures, were now cast in a new light. They were not the villains I had always believed them to be, but rather the victims of a cruel twist of fate, their powers a reminder of their perceived inferiority.

"That's... that's horrible," I finally managed to say, my voice filled with a mixture of shock and pity. "To be ostracized, discriminated against, simply because your powers were different..."

Mira nodded, her eyes filled with a bitter resignation. "It was a dark time for the Seers," she explained. "We were treated as outcasts, our abilities feared and reviled. We were forced to live in the shadows, to hide our true selves from the world."

She paused, her gaze meeting mine with a newfound intensity. "But we didn't give up. We fought back, we organized, we resisted. We created our own society, our own rules, our own destiny. And we vowed to never let the Unveiled control us again."

Her words echoed with a defiant pride, a testament to the Seers' resilience and determination. They had faced adversity, discrimination, and even persecution, yet they had emerged stronger, more united. It was a story that resonated with me, a story of struggle and survival, of finding strength in the face of oppression.

"I see..." I replied, my voice thoughtful. "I can't blame you for feeling that way. So the ancestor was trying to eliminate us, the Unveiled, to ensure that humans wouldn't have powers anymore, huh..."

"Oh, also, I forgot..." Mira said, her voice trailing off. "What day is it?"

"Huh... Saturday, why?" I replied, a bit confused by the sudden question.

Her expression turned grim. "Prepare for tomorrow, Imaginary. The time is coming... One of the strongest bosses, named Kura, has the power to call down asteroids. We've already set things in motion for tomorrow... When we're gone, she's going to bring a meteor down on this country."

A cold shiver ran down my spine. The Seers' plan was even more devastating than I had imagined. They were willing to sacrifice countless lives to achieve their goals.

"...So, it seems the Unveiled weren't wrong after all," I said, my voice heavy with the weight of this new information. "Thank you for the warning."

She sighed, a mix of relief and sadness in her eyes. "I just realized... please take care of my daughter," she pleaded, her voice filled with a mother's love.

I nodded solemnly. "I will," I promised, my heart heavy with the weight of her trust.

With a final glance at Mira, I left the jail, the portal closing behind me.

***

It was Sunday morning, and I was at the train station, ready to meet Lenna. She was planning to run away, but I wasn't going to let her go to Bandung. Instead, I had something else in mind, a place where she could find solace and escape the turmoil of her life.

I waited on the platform, scanning the crowd for her familiar face. The station was bustling with activity, families embarking on weekend trips, students returning home after a week of exams, and businesspeople rushing to catch their trains. But amidst the chaos, I remained focused, my eyes searching for the one person who needed my help.

After a few minutes, I spotted Lenna in the distance, her small figure weighed down by a backpack that looked too big for her. Her eyes darted nervously around, her body language betraying her anxiety and uncertainty. She looked lost and alone, a fragile bird caught in a storm, seeking shelter but unsure where to find it.

I waved to her, a reassuring smile on my face. She spotted me and hurried over, her footsteps quickening as she approached. The closer she got, the more apparent her distress became. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks tear-stained, and her lips trembled slightly.

"Senior!" she called out, a mix of relief and apprehension in her voice.

"Hey, Lenna," I greeted her warmly, taking her backpack and placing it on the ground. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the ground. "Y-Yes," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't worry," I said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Everything will be alright. I promise."

I reached for her bag again.

"D-Don't... it's just..." she protested, her voice hesitant.

"It's okay, it seems heavy," I insisted, gently taking the backpack from her grasp.

Lenna looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and surprise. "Thank you, Senior," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of the station.

I smiled reassuringly. "It's no problem, Lenna. Now, let's go. Our train is about to leave."

I led her towards the platform, our footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. The train was already waiting, its doors open, inviting us to step into a world of possibilities. As we boarded the train and found our seats, a sense of anticipation filled the air. We were about to embark on a journey, not just to a physical destination, but also to a place of healing and self-discovery.

Lenna, her initial anxiety replaced by a quiet curiosity, gazed out the window as the train pulled away from the station. The cityscape blurred past, replaced by rolling hills and lush green fields. The rhythmic sway of the train, the gentle hum of its engine, created a soothing atmosphere, a stark contrast to the chaos and turmoil Lenna had left behind.

I watched her, a sense of protectiveness washing over me. I had promised to help her, to guide her towards a brighter future. And as the train journeyed onwards, I knew that I would do everything in my power to keep that promise.

"Senior... you know how to get to Bandung, right...?" Lenna asked, her voice laced with a hint of uncertainty as she looked at me.

I looked back at her, knowing I wasn't actually taking her there. "Yeah, I do," I lied, a reassuring smile on my face.

Lenna seemed to relax slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "That's good," she said softly. "I'm a bit nervous about going there alone."

I nodded understandingly. "Don't worry, Lenna. I'll be with you every step of the way."

The train journey continued, the scenery outside the window changing from bustling cityscapes to serene countryside. Lenna, her initial anxiety easing, began to open up, sharing stories about her grandparents, her childhood memories, and her dreams for the future. I listened intently, my heart aching for the young girl who had been forced to grow up too soon.

As we talked, I couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility towards Lenna. She was vulnerable, lost, and in need of guidance. I knew I couldn't solve all her problems, but I could at least offer her a safe haven, a temporary escape from the turmoil of her life.

Finally, the train arrived at Stasiun Jatinegara. "We're going to transfer to a train for Bandung," I said, maintaining the illusion.

She nodded and followed me outside, her trust in me unwavering.

However, instead of heading to another train platform, I led Lenna towards a secluded corner of the station. I took a deep breath, preparing to reveal the truth. The weight of the deception pressed on my conscience, but I knew it was for her own good.

"Lenna," I began, my voice gentle but firm, "I need to tell you something."

Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of apprehension crossing her face. "What is it, Senior?"

"I'm not actually taking you to Bandung," I admitted, my gaze meeting hers. "I'm taking you somewhere else, somewhere safe."

Her expression shifted from confusion to surprise. "Somewhere else? But... my grandparents..."

"I'm sorry about that," I interrupted, my voice apologetic. "But let's refresh ourselves at this place first. It looks beautiful, doesn't it?"

With a flick of my wrist, the bustling train station vanished, replaced by a breathtaking landscape.

We found ourselves standing amidst a vast meadow, bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun. A gentle breeze rustled through the tall grass, carrying the sweet scent of wildflowers. In the distance, a majestic mountain range painted a breathtaking backdrop, its peaks shrouded in a soft mist.

"S-Senior..." Lenna stammered, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and confusion.

"Don't worry, we're just going to stay here for a moment," I reassured her, my gaze sweeping across the idyllic landscape. "Look, if you want to run away, look at that bird..."

"Bird..." she repeated, her eyes following my gesture. A small, brown bird hopped along the ground, its head bobbing as it searched for food.

< Chapter 201 > Fin.