I open my eyes, feeling a muted soreness in my muscles.

The tent is back to being plunged in discolored darkness, however it is worsened by the newly flickering neons. The kryptonite seems to have been crushed into thousands of chips and it is fully opaque and light gray instead of its former glowing green.

Cheryl appears to my right, thanks to teleportation I assume.

/How do you feel?/

I brace myself for a shot of pain, yet her voice slithers inside my head as naturally as if she were speaking out loud. I glance down at my hands and shuffle my feet... I feel completely and utterly... The exact same, apart from the slight tension in my body.

"I..." I squeak, my throat dry enough to sand a wooden chair.

I clear it and try again.

"I'm good. I don't feel very different, though." I do not know why I said it with guilt, but I did.

"You shouldn't, that's a good sign," she replies aloud.

I notice subtle eyebags underneath her kryptonite green eyes.

"What about you, Cheryl?"

/I'm happy. And very excited to show you how to use your powers! Are you up for lunch?/

"I could eat something... What time..?" I lift my wrist, stopping my sentence short, staring at my watch.

It is already a quarter past noon!

"Neither of us should be driving right now, I need to focus on you."

"I feel fine..." I hesitantly tell her, beginning to worry.

"Soon, you won't, believe me." She sighs and puts one of her hands on my shoulder. "Don't worry, I know just who to call!"

After she disappeared to make the mysterious call, Cheryl materializes in front of me. She swiftly tugs her hood back, and her clothes and hair smoothly change back to normal.

"Ready for your first lesson?"

I nod, remaining as calm as I can considering how casually she seems to be using her abilities in front of me, without any warning.

"Good! Your most important weapon is your mind. It will also be your greatest weakness if you do not treasure and protect it. No matter what powers you steal from others - or borrow - or how useful blasts of kryptonite are, your mind, Tanza, has to be your priority. Without a strong mind, you will be easily defeated. And your foes can take everything from you, but not your psyche... Unless they are a better telepath than you, in which case, what do you need?"

"A powerful brain to fight back?"

"Exactly. You learn quickly! Now... The best way to utilize telepathy is to consider a few specific states and you should avoid letting your mind stray from these."

"Okay."

I inhale silently, following her with my gaze as she paces and gesticulates.

"Right now, your mind is as open as any other non-telepath human would have theirs. It is vulnerable to any invasion, any injuries of a psychic nature... It is also open to perceiving any telepathic transmission."

/Anything at all that flies through the telepathic currents will reach you. You are listening to everything, but everyone can sense you, they can hear you as well./

Oh, and that is not good..?

"No. You want to control who can enter your mind by closing it... But you also want to leave it slightly open, in case something interesting happens in the void."

I guess that is the first state.

"Right on! Not everyone masters it or executes it the same way, but any psychic commonly does this. Then, there are the specific telepathic connections. Creating a link demands precision and care. You have to remain in control of it and shield it from intruders. Maybe you wanna speak to someone, but ya don't want them to hear every thought you have or, worse, let them wander around your head! Ya never know who could have psychic abilities, so you gotta keep your mind locked against intruders at all times."

/Finally, the last state is entering a mind in full immersion. But we'll get to that one later... I'm too tired to let them practice that./

She shakes her head and presses her right hand onto her forehead, exclaiming, "Sorry! I am slightly drained from the ritual... That last thought wasn't meant for you, it just slipped out easily because, you know, we have a constant telepathic link now... And your mind is wide open, so I need to keep a close eye on it... But I don't wanna smother ya with all that stuff, you focus on our first lesson, got it?"

Once she is done rambling, she chuckles nervously. I smile at her, sighing.

"You're doing great. So, how do I close my mind?"

I will confess, I am excited about telepathy and its apparent flexibility, however the idea that my brain is naked and free to enter for any psychic frightens me. I believe in defense more than offense, which is why I am glad that Cheryl brought this up first. What good would it bring me to know how to cause psychic injuries - whatever those are - if I cannot stop my opponents from wounding me in return?

/Alright!/ Her voice is beaming with joy. /Let's see if you can sense me, for starters. Right now, I'm just throwing thoughts at you... When you feel me enter your head, I want you to observe everything, every single detail. Don't tell me, just think about it. I can read your mind, anyway!/

Her sharp laugh echoes in my ears from the inside, an odd sensation. Slowly, I hear the faint and stretched out scratch of a... A record? Like those vintage records, set on turntables. The low, slowed crackling is accompanied by sudden heat across the bottom of my jaw, mainly. The warmth flows in my entire body, but it is centered there, more perceptible. Second by second, these particularities fade away.

/Good! I was making my presence very obvious, since our bond makes it hard for our minds to perceive each other as separate or threatening entities. The fact that two of your senses activated is really promising..!/

Subtle pride pricks at the back of my throat.

/Your psyche has no borders. You need to establish them. You need to perceive them. Once you know them, you can control your mind./

I am about to ask her to expand on the procedure to achieve this, when I hear a motor outside the structure and the noise of tires rubbing against uneven ground. Two honks can then be heard, as the engine lulls down.

"Perfect timing!" cheerfully remarks the brunette, motioning at me to follow her outside with a bob of her head and her long springy strides.

I glance around, only noticing at this moment that the black duffel bag has vanished. I wonder why we are carelessly leaving the rune circle drawn onto the disparate floorboards...

/Someone will clean it up, if raccoons don't destroy it by peeing on it first!/

When Cheryl laughs telepathically, it sounds a lot more eery than her out loud laughter, although I cannot define exactly what differentiates them. Perhaps any human sound that is not worded seems more bizarre when it is communicated directly to the mind, without visual cues.

The rain is heavier than before and breaks through the fog, a shower of small crystalline comets inside a light gray cloud. An average-sized orange-toned red car is purring, immobile next to my car, yet closer to the opening into the tent.

I take a third step toward the vehicle, distractedly watching a fat raindrop explode and ripple down the tip of my right boot. Abruptly, a swirl of words rushes into my head, whirling like blood that runs too fast during an hemorrhage and blinding me in my left eye. I stagger, gasping for air, and barely sensing that Cheryl has entered my mind.

/Focus on the words./ She softly urges me.

The other voice is not hers, it is male... Probably the driver's... Through the unintelligible surge of sounds that is vibrating and coiling amidst my own deliberations, I attempt to find meaning.

/Middle... Nowhere... Friend... Place... Creeps... The... Hot... Rain... The... Why... Long drive out... Hoped it... The two of us, but whatever. I'll drive her into the worst slums of the East End just to see her. Man, how can a girl be so freaking pretty?! I can't believe my luck.../

The young woman's voice dominates his, instructing me:

/Try to stop listening, but don't cut his thoughts off completely. I'm right here if you need anything, Peanut./

She ceases speaking and I am instantly submerged by incoherent gibberish, zooming in and out of my conscience, once more. I grunt, struggling to think. Thankfully, blocking out conversations is an art I practice alongside eavesdropping on them. After all, these skills are both necessary to collect the right information, even in noisy, crowded establishments.

I imagine I am on the public bus and that this voice is just an irritating guy, blabbering loudly on his phone behind me, without any consideration for the people who surround him. To my immense relief, in a matter of seconds, his train of thoughts is reduced to a muffled buzz at the back of my mind.

Only then do I peek into the colorful car and meet the young man's eyes through the windshield.