Rick cleared his throat, bringing the attention of the others in the meeting room to him. "It's time we begin our comeback. A lot of our previous plans need to be scrapped, but some should still be doable with some modifications, thanks to the unexpected blessings descending on us. I've brought myself up to date on our situation over the past week, so we don't need to go over that and can immediately get to work on plans for the future," he said.
"Can you tell us what your blessing is, shepherd? If we're to come up with new plans or modify existing ones based on blessings, we need to know what yours is," the strategist asked. While he was telling the truth about that, he was also just as curious as everyone else in the room as to what exactly Rick could do now.
"My blessing enables me to enter people's minds, monitor their thoughts," Rick answered, then his eyes flashed purple as he continued speaking through the threads of belief that connected him to his high-level confidants. "And I can even communicate with them."
He had discovered that power a few days into the week prior, when he had discovered the betrayal of his money manager. He had been so enraged by the betrayal that it forced him back into his own body, and his disgust prompted him to attempt ordering him to suicide without even needing to be fully present in his purple world. As long as he knew there was a thread of belief connecting him to a person, he could instantly communicate through it without sending his full consciousness through it, and, for an unknown cost, send the same kind of orders he had used on his teenaged test subject.
The room fell into silence as everyone considered the uses and ramifications of Rick's blessing. It would be particularly useful in the fight against the juggernaut that was the Terran Empire, though they didn't know if they should suggest that he become a glorified comms relay or not.
Rick remained quiet, though his eyes remained purple. Nobody else in the room was sensitive to mana, however, so they couldn't tell that he was currently using his power on them and reading their thoughts.
After he felt they had been given enough time to consider his blessing, he said, "Let's begin, shall we?"
Thus, with slight fear, worry, and wariness in the eyes of the cult leadership, the meeting continued. It would still take time for them to adjust to the new order of things, but they still moved forward, doing their best to not give their leader a reason to empty their chairs as well.
Like that, they proceeded to hash out a new plan of attack that involved their blessed and unblessed followers alike. It was likely going to be even more grand than their first introduction into the public consciousness, given that it took into account the superpowers granted to the blessed by the mysterious particles surrounding everyone. Along with the new plans, old ones were discussed and either discarded as unfeasible or updated to account for the new reality everyone had found themselves in.
Some were even immediately put into action, taking advantage of Rick's new unbreakable communication method.
Avalon Island, the Cube.
Deep within the bowels of the central government facility of the entire Terran Empire, the lids of two pods slid open with an identical pneumatic hiss. Inside one pod was a gorgeous woman with waist-length, wavy, strawberry blonde hair. Stretching from cheek to cheek and across a slightly upturned, perky nose was a light dusting of freckles. Her tanned skin spoke of a love for the outdoors and she had full, generous lips, immaculate eyebrows, and her seafoam green eyes, when they opened, were round and sparkling with a mischievous glint. She was dressed in a black sports bra with blue seams, and a matching pair of compression shorts that barely protected her modesty, all while outlining the luscious curves of her slender, athletic body.
She sat up and luxuriantly stretched. If there was anyone, man or woman, in the room with her to see the... interesting... things that motion did to her body, their eyes would likely have popped out of their skulls at the sight.
Then she picked up a towel, casually draped it around the back of her neck, and sauntered out of the room with a slightly lopsided grin on her face.
In another room was another pod. This one contained a handsome man with light sandy brown hair cut short topping a face that looked as though it had been chiseled out of a block of granite. He had sharp eyebrows, an aquiline nose, and thin lips with a slight upward curve to them mitigated his otherwise severe and imposing appearance. His chin was prominent and his face was coated in a light nine 0' clock shadow. He had powerful arms, a V-shaped torso, and a perfect eight pack with devil horns cut into his tight spandex biking shorts. His hands were a contradiction, simultaneously large and yet somehow still elegant.
(Ed note: Aquiline noses are also called Roman noses. They're characterized by a gentle curve at the top leading into a relatively straight line from the bridge of the nose to the tip, and wide nostrils. Their side profile is very straight and the tip of the nose is sharply defined and often dips below the nostrils themselves. A person with an aquiline nose often looks authoritative and/or stately to people.)
He opened his dark, chocolate brown eyes and sat up, a wicked smirk on his face. 'This is gonna be fun,' he thought as he hopped out of the pod and padded barefoot into the corridor, then headed toward the room where he was scheduled to meet his partner for their upcoming long-term mission.
"Timothy and Siobhan Roberts" were about to make their debut on the world stage, some of the first of a new generation of intelligence and counterintelligence operatives.
They could hardly wait.
