all blockers released -- psionic awakening active

Her hand. Her skin. Dust becomes ground becomes asphalt becomes the sharp caress of a chrome hedgehog, its spikes blasting from cold to bleeding edge hot. Networks within networks in her brain awaken, activity rippling through every corner, rebounding and repeating. The rippling sensation crosses sensorial boundaries, from touch to eyes and ears, her mouth, her heart. Through her spine, her body is overwhelmed with soul. Yet soon these indiscernible stimuli become clear, the spectrum of light and all its colours becomes detail.

Light flashes from within and travels through all physical and metaphysical limits her body, away from her skull into the unknown world. She becomes like an angel newborn, her wings –not physical but tangible – spread under the caress of the truest sun. Human still, but ever closer to divinity – in a way. Her skin and hair glow, or perhaps, it’s the world around her that has turned darker.

The air warps and heats naturally, as a result of her mind interacting with the vicinity. The wind touched by her psionic power makes fans fer hair. Her eyes open. She sees the dark concrete walls ahead, the limits of the cuboid training room, and all the tiny specks of dust between.

In the middle of the room, a weapon, standing on a tripod, flashes a laser dot on her. It has noticed her awakening. Its mechanical arms click, signalling it’s about to shoot. The laser pointer looms towards her left leg. It will shoot the thigh, or perhaps her belly.

The awakened woman extends her metaphysical grasp towards the floor, looking for a weapon to block the attack. She feels every imperfection of the concrete, and even the tiny insects nestling in the crevices, but not a weapon in reach. She extends further not to waste a second, and touches, finally, the stick required for the training.

A flare illuminates the room: the gun has fired, with the first rubber bullet pushing the air, releasing a shockwave her ears can quickly catch. She forces the stick towards her hand with telekinesis, but her fingers cannot reach it yet.

The laser pointer shifts upwards. Two more shots blaze, headed for the chest, or the head.

The floating stick reaches her hand, but her limbs are now too slow to keep up. The first bullet slaps her hand. The stick trembles before her eyes, and her wrist bends in a disgusting shape.

However, the sting awakens her senses more. Before she can bite her lip, she pushes herself to extreme speeds. Her legs tense up to try for a jump. Her arm reacts and commands the stick to interception. She sees herself twisting in the air.

The stick pushes the second rubber bullet away, but the third punches right home at her shoulder. She loses control there – her power fails her. Everything is blurry, and she only sees a ceiling, while her limbs struggle in midair. She screams, as two other bullets hit her somewhere. Her body spins violently and lands, with all kinds of pains and bruises, as the momentum carries her to more pain.

She has lost. Too slow. The machine has won.